• French• Bermondsey
Casse-Croûte was opened by Hervé Durochat, a former business partner of Spanish chef José Pizarro. Durochat partnered with sommelier Alexandre Bonnefoye and chef Sylvain Soulard to open the restaurant, which is opposite his former stomping ground José on Bermondsey Street.
Although the restaurant isn’t old, it feels like a throwback to a bygone era of French dining. With room for only 20 covers, it’s nothing if not intimate – Durochat wanted to make sure he created a familial atmosphere. While it’s always welcoming to first-time diners, there are plenty of regulars, too.
There’s no point trying to predict the menu, as most dishes change regularly and are ordered from the menu du jour, written on a blackboard in true French bistro style. If you’re looking for ultra-modern takes on French cuisine, you’re probably in the wrong place – Casse-Croûte’s food is unapologetically old-school, and all the better for it.
This tiny restaurant in a former sandwich shop in increasingly branché Bermondsey is an instant smash. To say it's a bit French is like saying cheese is a bit nice. After our flirtations with America and south-east Asia, it seems we're rekindling our horn for trad French.
Casse-Croûte feels like the type of fantasy joint that Olivier Martinez might whisk you to down a backstreet in Marseilles, feed you pastis and pâté de foie gras and then play whatever the French is for ‘footsie’ with you. God knows, I spent seven years learning the language and came away with little more than a really convincing Gallic shrug and some noncommittal phrases to describe the 1990s musical output of MC Solaar.
Despite the draught, despite the crush, I can’t help but be utterly charmed by Casse-Croûte
A shot of warm, villagey France in Bermondsey with a sensibly priced menu of boldly chosen, smartly executed French classics.
From the cracked wooden sign above the door; the red leather banquettes; the old black and white photos of the proprietors’ families and the ornately-carved bar, where you can perch for drinks; to the French radio crackling in the background and the intimate, familial ambience… it feels like it’s been around for years.