What you need to know:

Near: London Bridge
Bookable: Yes — but only the old fashioned way: by phone! It did take me a few attempts to book, but I suppose — in a world where an abundance of choice can lead us to be flaky and flighty — you need to demonstrate a bit of commitment to dine at Casse-Croute… and that’s no bad thing.
Occasion: Perfect for a leisurely Sunday lunch on a rainy day — a chance to escape London for a couple of glorious hours.
Value: When you first look at the prices, they might seem a little high (mains are typically just under the £30 mark) — but actually, it’s important to realise that these are proper portions, and quite rich ones at that. So you can absolutely have a great value meal here: two of us (both women) had a soup each to start, shared the cassoulet, had a glass of wine each and shared the mille-feuille for dessert. We were completely full and the bill came to £80 — no chance of us feeling short-changed.
Service: Fantastic — so warm, not at all pushy and sometimes in French.
Get: Everything was delicious, so go with whatever you fancy. The soup particularly thrilled me.
Scroll down for the full review below!

The Covid effect

Can I be honest? I don’t like to be down on the hospitality industry — an industry that I adore — but I’ve just been really underwhelmed by eating out recently. Restaurants are under such huge pressures right now (energy costs, economic crisis, labour shortages) and they have been for a while, coming out of a period that brought us Brexit x Covid. We’re all cutting back on non-essential spending, which means that when we do go out and spend that hard-earned (or saved) cash, we want a great experience.

But what I’ve been finding is that the food isn’t tasting as good, the service is often feeling pressured or rushed, the prices are higher, the portions smaller. It’s just been a while since I’ve come away from a meal and felt delighted with the experience.

I am pleased to say that Casse-Croute restored my faith over the weekend.

*Charmingly cluttered and oh-so Parisian*

What? You mean, I have to pick up a phone to secure a reservation?

The tone was set, I think, by the way in which I had to secure a table: the old fashioned way… by phone. Casse-Croute are neither on OpenTable nor Resy; they have no booking function on their website; you can’t even email them. The only way to get through is to call — and most of the time, they are not available to take your call. This made me feel at once slightly irritated (in a world where we can make a restaurant reservation in mere seconds) but also intrigued. After all, they must not need to make it too easy for us… Clearly, business is thriving. Clearly, this place is good. So I persevered and, eventually, on my third try, I got through and nabbed their last lunchtime table.

True escapism

Fast forward to a grey, cold, rainy Sunday in London and I had no idea, at the time, that escapism was what I needed — but it turns out that it was exactly what the doctor ordered.

We stepped off Bermondsey Street into the cosiest, warmest, charmingly cluttered Parisian bistro; Stevie Wonder crooning in the background (‘I just called, to say, I love you’).

We were greeted with warm smiles: immediately at ease,and excited for the kind of no-frills, classic French cooking that would warm and comfort us on this cold December day. It was just gone 12.30pm and every seat was full, the restaurant alive with a mellow chatter and the clinking of wine glasses.

All the butter

I cannot praise the food we ate at Casse-Croute enough: it was refreshingly without frills. In fact, eating here threw into relief just how overworked a lot of plates of food are these days. Nothing about this food was overly fancy, but it was stupendously good — heartwarming, delicious, perfectly executed.

*A perfectly traditional French soup, silky with butter*

The jerusalem artichoke soup was silky and buttery, spiked with a Roquefort cream whose umami-sharpness helped cut through. The cassoulet was rich, thick, piping hot — heavy in the way that all the best comfort food is. The mille-feuille was an architectural feat: tall, shattering layers, perfect vanilla pastry cream. I have nothing further to say than: please go.

Casse-Crôute — an escape, a balm

The River Cafe — only for the rich kids