As much as I love New York City, Paris has that magical je ne sais quoi that will always have my heart. And while I can’t afford a trip to gay Paris any time soon, I can at least humor my Francophile tendencies at Buvette in the West Village.
Enjoy the perfectly indulgent croque madame for brunch, or share glasses of Beaujolais and the uber-rich chocolate mousse with a friend at the bar. Every item on the menu makes me feel as if I’ve been transported to a hidden cafe in Saint-Germain-des-Pres.
Buvette is made even more charmant by the handsome waiters, who will even amuse your poor French that hasn’t been used since college.
So when I need a break from this concrete jungle (or some eye candy), I head to Buvette for a little Parisian escape. Bon voyage!
Buvette, 42 Grove Street, no reservations