Football on Saturdays, market stalls on Sundays. I know exactly how to time the Tube rush.
Occupying a sharp, flatiron-style wedge where Kentish Town Road splits off, this compact room is entirely devoted to the food of Brittany. The distinction here is strict and traditional: dark, gluten-free buckwheat flour for the savoury galettes, and white wheat flour for the sweet crêpes. The kitchen is fully open – effectively part of the dining room – so the sound of batter hitting hot cast-iron billigs is the constant soundtrack. You watch the chefs spin the mixture thin with wooden rakes before flipping and folding it into neat, crisp-edged squares. The space narrows toward the tip of the building, packing tables close together. It is a busy, high-turnover spot where the staff move fast and the heat from the griddles warms the room. The menu favors the classics, with the complète – ham, cheese, and egg – appearing on most tables, alongside bowls of dry French cider served in traditional ceramic bolées rather than glasses. While you can find heavier fillings involving raclette or ratatouille, the appeal lies in the nutty texture of the buckwheat itself. It is a casual operation, often filled with a mix of solo diners grabbing a quick lunch and locals squeezing in for a reliable, steaming plate of food.
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