David Myers' stylish brasserie is a sleek, theatrically lit restaurant that has the look of an ancient dining room restored to use; it's all black and white, lined with mirrors, filled with actual French speakers and smartly dressed citizens of the local design community. The oysters are briny, crisp and alive. The house-made terrines and ptés are first-rate. There are snails in garlic butter and frisée salads with bacon and poached eggs, choucroute garni on Wednesdays and braised pork belly on Saturdays. The wine list includes French village vintages that are uncannily appropriate with the food; the house carafe is a decent Côtes du Rhône. And there's the roar, that great, happy roar of music and clattering plates and people with a little too much wine in them, and the sense that somebody, somewhere in the restaurant, is having the most memorable evening of her life. Comme Ça aims to be all things to all people, open early for croissants and coffee and late for oysters and champagne, serving formal entrées like seasonal sole piperade and roasted pork chops, and bistro classics like steak-frites and lemony skate grenobloise with capers and brown butter. Is there good onion soup? A great one, informed but not overwhelmed by its gooey mantle of melted Gruyère.