Casse-Croûte
Bermondsey, London
Booking is absolutely essential at this tiny, stereotypical French bistro, where the floor is all black and white tiles, the gingham-clothed tables are tight-packed, and the walls sport French advertising posters. That said, everyone is here for the good food and jolly atmosphere. The daily menu – only three choices per course – is chalked up on a blackboard, and when dishes are gone, they are gone. This is proper cuisine grand-mère, where a bowl of soupe à l'oignon, kept steaming hot with the traditional blanket of melted Gruyère on toast, might precede confit rabbit leg accompanied by a traditional sauce moutarde (served on very decent mash) or monkfish with saffron risotto and squid ink. There’s a typically Gallic shrug when it comes to vegetables, but portions are generous, expertly cooked and served with a certain elan by heavily accented French staff. Not everyone makes it to pudding, but if you do, you’ll find classics such as île flottante – a perfect example, not too sweet and dotted with toasted almonds. Though no one ever seems to rush, the 25 or so seats will be turned at least twice a night. The wine list (also scrawled on a blackboard) stays in France, with every bottle offered by the glass and carafe.
