A lavender-scented breeze drifts across a table set with checkered linens. The room hums as diners linger over martinis, wine, and rustic French cooking. The pulse of Euro-disco music plays lightly in the background as tabletop candles flicker, spilling wax into and onto the sides of their candleholders. Just as you’re about to sink into your seat, the honk of a passing cab outside breaks the spell: this isn’t Provence — it’s New York City.
NYC is undergoing a new wave of French-inspired restaurants that feel more like a dinner party with friends, but with a casual, pub-style approach: free-flowing wine, rustic dishes, and sumptuous touches of linen and cherrywood in the decor. The mood is casual, and the food is technique-driven and rooted in homey French cooking. But how did we get here, and where is the trend headed?
Restaurants like Crevette, the latest from the Dame and Lord’s team; Le Chêne from chef Alexia Duchene; Zimmi’s from Maxime Pradié; and Dennis Spina’s Café Kestrel evoke the feel of chic French farmhouses but with service styles inspired by British pubs. The look is pared down, the food personal, the atmosphere intimate. Service is casual, meaning meals unfold over hours with cocktails, wine, and candlelight.
Café Kestrel. Lanna Apisukh/Eater NY
Over the past few years, the city’s buzziest restaurants were bigger, flashier, and proudly over-the-top. Openings like José Andrés’s bustling Mercado Little Spain (2019), the maximalist Bad Roman (2023), and the sleek yet cavernous Coqodaq (2024) from the Cote team. Those places leaned into whimsy, creating high-low pairings like caviar-topped chicken nuggets and pepperoni cups with ranch. It’s spectacle dining, meant to encourage you to document each bite and piece of statement decor on your social media.
By contrast, these newer restaurants are all about not being flashy or Instagrammable. Chefs like Duchêne describe this new guard as part French farmhouse, part British gastropub, which encourages diners to be in the moment. “We’re French food, but we also wanted to do an English-style, cozy atmosphere,” she says. The chef is half English and studied in London. “Straightforward food, no gimmicks, is what diners want right now.”
At Le Chêne, as well as Crevette and Zimmi’s, menus start with snack-sized bites akin to an amuse bouche. Le Chêne’s best seller is a delicate tartlet ($12) filled with sweet shrimp, creme fraiche, and a hint of maple syrup, tucked underneath a shiso leaf like a blanket. It’s the edible version of “quiet luxury” — indulgent yet understated.
The sweet shrimp tartlettes at Le Chêne. Andrew Bui/Le Chêne
Chefs say this shift to high-end comforts reflects a post-pandemic craving for simplicity that has only been exacerbated by current tumultuous times documented in a never-ending news cycle. It echoes past moments: after 9/11, New Yorkers turned to comfort food, blue-plate specials, and modern bistro fare. As William Grimes noted in the Times in 2001: “The sagging economy, and a widespread sense of trend-fatigue, made it likely that some form of more simplified cooking would gain the ascendancy.”
At Café Kestrel, a snug Red Hook bistro, chef Dennis Spina sees the same desire for familiar ease. Though the menu rotates, staples like roasted chicken, sauteed fish, and stovetop mac and cheese remain.
“I didn’t want people to come in here and say, ‘This is fancy,’” says Spina. “It’s more luxurious to go somewhere where you can have a delicious, simple meal.” The intimacy of the space has also become a draw. “People want to brush up against one another a bit more now,” he says. “I want it to feel festive.”
This new wave of French farmhouse restaurants builds on the legacy of places like Prune, Café d’Alsace, and La Bonne Soupe, but layers in elegant touches — foie gras, caviar, prime cuts — for decadent spins on rustic French dishes. Their simplicity can also be traced to the understated, straightforward approach of Estela, which opened in Nolita in 2013. The inclusion of small bites, most of which hover around $10, is meant to precede appetizers and also point to a cornerstone of today’s French dining: choice. Diners can drink martinis and have a few bites before moving on to the next stop, or they can have a full meal.
The lobster thermidor at Chateau Royale. Evan Sung/Chateau Royale
And the opening of Château Royale points to where the trend may be headed, with higher price points, but that same intention of soothing. The first floor of the bi-level restaurant is a sleek wood, recalling brasseries, fitting for a restaurant from the Libertine team. Upstairs, a skylit dining room in cream tones nods to mid-century French New York, with dishes like lobster thermidor and duck à l’orange. Opulence and decadence are also communicated through the hefty price tag (entrees range from $40 to $90). Owner Cody Pruitt calls it an homage to institutions like La Grenouille, which operated from 1962 until last year. “People don’t want cheffy, they want craveable and timeless dishes,” he says. It’s rustic luxe.
And really, what’s more luxurious than losing yourself at a dinner table for a few hours, sans phones, over food that’s comforting, approachable, and made from the best ingredients?
The price may be increasing, but diners will always go for French comfort. As for what’s next? Pruitt shrugs. “I don’t know that it needs to go anywhere,” he says. “It’s good as it is.”
Dining and Cooking