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
and the best affogato ever!!!!
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