One of the things that makes me sad about Chicago is that it is rare to be able to go to a restaurant that isn't a chain, or managed by one of two or three formulaic organizations who bestow their chow shops with some kind of truly dopey name. And or which folds two years after opening, once you've fallen in love with it.(Though this happens everywhere unfortunately.)
Exception, Cafe Bernard, which I have been going to since 1972, evolving my then-novice tastes through a ten year stint doing food PR and recipe development, decades of restaurant dining in my years living in New York ,Boston and Toronto, (among numerous other cities in my travels) and upon returning to Chicago, also returning to Bernard. Throughout those 35 years, it has been consistent, charming and a magnet like True North when I want reliable French food and an unprepossessing environment, joyfully bereft of 20- and 30-somethings, self -important cell phones and look-at-me behavior. Bernard is what a bistro is: a neighborhood home away from home. Expect nothing more: no bling, no hype. The real deal. A place to sit back and talk to friends over a memorable meal.
My favorite selection is the cassoulet, which is every bit as good as Julia's recipe, but you save three days' prep; the escargot are extraordinary if quite decadent, come covered with a buttery crust, and yes, the bread is very good by Chicago restaurant standards, especially to dip into the generous, garlicky escargot butter. I also recall a fine osso bucco that appears from time to time. I have never been disappointed; quite the opposite: every meal reminds me to return.
No need to worry about parking if you aren't walking there; they have valet service which is worth every penny in that neighborhood.
As for the detractors who wrote reviews here, I've got to wonder, really. But then, self selection can be a wonderful thing.