I am a creature of habit. Once I like something, I want to eat there a lot. And often. So true to form, I now find myself bordering on eating at Buvette too much also. I just can't help it. Just look at this place. Tin-paneled ceilings, warm lighting and long-haired French waiters. Adorable.
Look at this menu, complete with pop-up cutlery crown. So-friggin-adorable-it-friggin-hurts.
Jodi Williams, who I consider a rogue chef in the NYC scene (fired from Morandi, sued by her partner at Gottino), has opened up this cute French-inspired spot in the West Village with much of the same feel of Gottino, but with added charm of croques, cassoulets, and charcuterie.
I love the cappucinos here, so creamy and warm. I love splashing it with raw sugar and watching the rough granules sink slowly through the airy foam.
When Diana recently visited, we all ordered the blood orange juice that is freshly squeezed to order using a charming metal handpress.
It really does not get fresher than this. Bright and crisp, this is the juice all other citruses should aspire to be. Heck, I'm not a citrus, and I wish I could be this juice. (And that may not even make sense, but at first sip, you may begin to understand.)
Christina's husband ordered an Americano with steamed milk. They served it with a pint of beautifully frothed milk in a rustic silver pitcher. I am a sucker for presentation. The fact that all the cups and cutlery are slightly smaller than it should be just adds to the charm of everything (or makes you feel like a giant, which can be fun).
On my first visit to Buvette, I tried the Croque Madame.
It was gorgeous. Just look at the size of that perfectly golden yolk dusted with freshly shaved parmesan.
Buvette's twist on the Croque Madame features their signature crusty bread (which accompanies practically every dish on the menu), sandwiching thin slices of ham and cheese. Much of the sandwich's flavor comes from the hidden layer of dried herb-infused cheese broiled on top of the sandwich.
The size of the plate mandates some delicate care in enjoying the sandwich, but truthfully, there should be no rush. Just bask in the warmth of the sunlight, sip your cappuccino, and watch the gloriously golden yolk slowly cascade down.
The steamed eggs were much the same as Gottino, with the exception of pancetta being served there, and only freshly shaved prosciutto, smoked salmon or sundried tomatoes served at Buvette. Did I just say "only freshly shaved prosciutto?" Such #firstworldproblems.
|This is a shot from the scrambled eggs at Gottino. Expect the same feathery light eggs at Buvette, brilliantly cooked using the steaming rod on their espresso machine.|
For "dessert," there are lovely baked bites in the form of petit pain au chocolat, airy bundles cradling small pieces of dark chocolate in a light, crisp shell,
...and cute little croissants served with a fat spoonful of creamy butter and strawberry jam.
But the crown jewel of dessert was a wondrously and massively thick chocolate mousse served as a dark, dense slab on a plate topped with freshly whipped cream.
Rich, indulgent but not too sweet, thanks to the light whipped cream, this is a decadent dessert to be enjoyed with your favorite galpals or by yourself (much as I am tempted to do soon!).
Oh Buvette, you are a true West Village gem. Cannot wait to try your charcuterie next!
42 Grove St, New York, NY