avid and Catherine Ansill bang into each other every now and then. Not that they’re an uncoordinated couple, but when you’re sharing a shoebox-sized kitchen, the atmosphere, much like the communal oven, can get quite hot. The husband and wife team behind South Philly’s most charming French bistro, Pif, confess that working together can be, well, “conflictive” at times.

“I like to do it my way,” says Catherine, a self-taught pastry chef who leaves her chocolate-dipped spoon lying around. “And I like things done right,” chimes in David, a meticulous toque who worked in many professional kitchens before opening the much-lauded Pif in 2001.

The duo has developed a system: She bakes mornings and is usually done before he arrives, and in return, he prepares sumptuous meals that lure her back for dinner several times a week. “I love his cooking,” beams Catherine, especially “the way he cooks scallops.” Glancing at the daily chalkboard menu, I imagine it’s not much of a coincidence that the night before my visit, the shellfish starred in two dishes: Scallop “Bisque” with Lobster Roe and Scallops with Truffle Coulis.

The couple first crossed paths 15 years ago at Club Deuce, a popular South Beach dive in the ’90s. David had left his hometown of Philadelphia to hone his culinary skills alongside French chefs in Miami, where Catherine, a native of Vittel, France, was on vacation.

“I loved him the first time I saw him,” she says. “He had on his Ray-Ban sunglasses and cowboy boots.” A long distance romance quickly ensued. “I visited her in France a couple of times,” he says. “She came back to visit and then came back for good one time.”

Together they’ve earned a reputation for fine French fare in a town where, says David, “there aren’t enough good-quality restaurants.” Pif, one of over 200 BYOBs in the city (Pennsylvania is known for its strict liquor laws), has a devoted following of young foodies and older, wealthy suburbanites who boast personal wine cellars.

“They feel comfortable enough with the food to bring their expensive bottles here,” says David, who is often gifted a glass by regulars, all of whom have their favorite dishes. “There’s this one guy I always call when I make calf’s liver,” says the chef, who draws inspiration for the menu from the outdoor produce stalls, fish mongers, and butcher shops of Philly’s famous Italian Market, only a few blocks away and also a destination for the city’s more well-known eats: hoagies, cheese steaks, and soft pretzels. “You see one ingredient and that will make you think of something else and it goes from there,” he explains, pointing to the latest market bounty. “One of the employees bought a big bag of ramps, so we have to build a menu around ramps: puff pastry tart with ramps, onion tart with ramps, pickled ramps, sautéed ramp leaves….”

Catherine, whose sweet tooth dictates her own creations, gets equally involved in her work. “I could swim in it,” she says of her succes, rattling off the ingredients, “two layers of meringue, praline butter cream, toasted almond, and brown sugar.

“Praline is our dog’s name,” she adds, making her case with a laugh.

The family business gets help from the couple’s teenage daughter, who buses tables on weekends. “Every night is like throwing a party here,” says David as he surveys the intimate dining room. No wonder the pair isn’t eager to cook on days off. “You just want to get away from it,” he explains. Instead, the renowned chef does what the rest of us do: “We get Vietnamese takeout, Mexican takeout,” says David, his wife next to him shaking her head in disagreement.

One thing’s for sure, they never just order pizza and veg out in front of the television. “Our schedules are a little different so it’s rare that we’re together at the same time,” says David, who has been keeping extra busy lately with Ansill, a second restaurant, which he opened in February. “We serve adventurous food. A lot of animal parts people aren’t used to seeing,” he says of the new spot, which features small plates that go beyond France and into other parts of Europe.

“[Pif] built me a pretty good reputation and it gave me the opportunity to open [Ansill], which has a big bar, which will hopefully generate income instead of a reputation,” he adds. Though the new place has its own chef and staff, Catherine serves as pastry chef there too. Her saffron cheesecake is already a hit and the Ansill’s have their hands even more full.

“No couples in restaurants have any time,” she says. That’s why “two restaurants is more than enough,” says David. “I want someone to cook for me.” Unfortunately another occupational hazard of being a culinary couple is that those sorts of invitations are hard to come by. “Our friends are always scared to cook for us.”

Photography Jason Varney