An Honest Review Of Buvette London

In the heart of New York’s West Village lies a 15-year-old French bistro known by many and loved by most. It’s a relaxed spot, one frequented for brunch as much as it is dinner. It’s a mainstay, a pillar of the village, and now it is making itself known to Londoners, setting up quite the station in our beloved Neal’s Yard. It’s happened; Buvette has arrived.

When a childhood favourite opens up a second location, there are many things to fear. Will they live up to expectations? Will they find the right venue? Will they stand out or will they blur into a congested market of second, third, fourth outposts?
Mallory, Junior Food & Drink Editor

What sets it apart

Any excuse to visit Neal’s Yard is a good excuse. To me, it is a little oasis, a pocket of joy inside a more than chaotic London locale. So, upon seeing that one of the more nostalgic NYC venues was opening within it, I was both ecstatic and slightly worried — what if it all goes wrong?

Buvette’s awning lies over prime real estate. This location is more than perfect for their latest expansion; by all means, it is transportive. A saunter up to its red facade sees tables pouring onto the concrete as the French doors sit wide open, a full bar lining the walls behind and circular tables spilling into the dining room. This is a New York restaurant; it is Buvette in London…

Buvette’s awning lies over prime real estate. This location is more than perfect for their latest expansion; by all means, it is transportive.

What we ordered

After a read of one of the sweeter menus I’ve seen, with paper cutouts popping up out of the simple, although whimsically illustrated, cardstock, I went for the following:

From the Tartine section – i.e. open-faced sandwiches – Ratatouille layered atop chevre with olive tapenade. The integrity of the bread held fast while the chevre acted as a fragrantly pungent and strong dairy, lifting the roasted veg. One to recommend, absolutely.

Ratatouille (£120; dauphinois (£10); betteraves (£10)

From the Poissons, I wanted the escargot, but I was steered away from it by my server. Why? I’m unsure, but this slipped my mind when the moules, in all its peculiar curry fragrances, landed on the table. The Five Guys-esque fries (I mean this in the complimentary sense) balanced confidently atop the perfect portion of mussels, moreish and meaty and practically begging for bread that never came to the table.

The healthiest helping of dauphinois arrived with a beetroot salad, both of these particularly lovely in their simplicity. Potatoes with cream and garlic; soft and comforting. Roasted beets with a dollop of horseradish creme fraiche; refreshing and earthy. Then the Coq au Vin (another perfect portion) with button mushrooms in abundance and sauce, again, helplessly calling out for bread. Delicious nonetheless, but extra carbs for mopping are seldom forgotten when absent.

There are things I will do differently if and when I make it back to Buvette – I will skip the oily olives in favour of cheesy puffs, which they had run out of by the time I made it at 7:30 on a Tuesday. I’d try the escargots out of sheer curiosity, and perhaps I would not miss a tartare. More than anything, I would return for just a croques and a pea martini. The former I missed out on by dimwittedly overlooking the bottom section of the menu; the latter I had three of. Finally, I would have the chocolate mousse for a second time. In fact, if I could have it every day whilst still fitting into my jeans, I would. Thick, decadent scoops of airy mousse topped with a heaping spoonful of perfectly whipped cream. Those three- – that is why you go, alongside the breezy New York terrace within Neal’s Yard.

The verdict

When a childhood favourite opens up a second location, there are many things to fear. Will they live up to expectations? Will they find the right venue? Will they stand out or will they blur into a congested market of second, third, fourth outposts? Lucky for Buvette, the real estate itself will outshine the lack of bread; the chocolate mousse will apologise for missing cheesy puffs. I am pleased because in Neal’s Yard there now lies a permanent red fixture, one whose terrace is full and whose glasses are fuller.