Just how much of a Parisian brasserie can you transplant to London? Plenty have tried, with varying degrees of success, but Brasserie Olivia feels different. It is, after all, from actually-French restaurant group Nouvelle Garde, which boasts locations all over L’Hexagone.
Onion soup was as good as anything I’ve had in the motherland
Much of Brasserie Olivia is uncannily Parisian. Fitted neatly beneath the entire length of an angular block just off Sloane Square, it beams with handsome red-and-white striped awning and matching wicker chairs. Stepping through the door is transportive: an energetic crowd, Euro-disco on the speakers, and a tastefully eclectic mishmash of gold picture frames and gleaming light fittings. It’s the sort of place that doesn’t want you to think it’s put an exceptional amount of effort into curating a vibe, but has – and that’s fine. The result is naturally appealing. After all, who wouldn’t rather be in an arrondissement?
Food-wise, Brasserie Olivia succeeds most in its Frenchest dishes. The onion soup was as good as anything I’ve had in the motherland, its baked top spilling out over a china chalice, and a rich, sweetly stringy pot of ale-enhanced onion and gloopy comté within. Elsewhere, cuts of meat were plump and fries were crisp and substantial right down to the bottom of the bowl, with mustardy mayo and fresh, tangy ketchup.
As you’d expect, the wine list is superb. Nouvelle Garde is known for its cellars and an entire corner of Brasserie Olivia is dedicated to showing off its entirely French offerings. A very drinkable Côtes-du-Rhône house red was reasonably priced, though Olivia isn’t all vin. There’s a succinct cocktail menu, with plenty of innovative flavour combos (my favourite: the Mangue’s peppery spice and tickly sweetness).
That said, perhaps there are some elements of culinary culture across the Channel that could stay there. As helpful as the front-of-house staff were, service was unhurried in the extreme. The best part of three hours makes for an exhausting weekday evening three-course meal, and plates weren’t always worth the wait. Parmesan gougères were on the dry side and only rescued by a dollop of jam; leeks vinaigrette had pickled twang but trod a fine line between ‘subtly flavoured’ and ‘underpowered’; main course ‘veggie of the moment’ tagliatelle was overdone and, even with potent garlic and al dente greens, wasn’t on par with anything at London’s top pasta restos.
There was, however, a reward after all the waiting around: Brasserie Olivia’s dessert menu alone is a reason to visit. The stately paris-brest was a towering ode to nuttiness, its salty praline mousse complemented by heavenly hazelnut paste with almond pastry. A slice of fondant au chocolat, served with prickles of salt and cool crème anglaise, was so slickly textured that the thought of my teeth sinking into has lingered well after the fact.
The vibe London’s Frenchiest restaurant? Quite possibly.
The food Gallic classics – soupe à l’oignon, bœuf bourguignon, frites etc – with seasonal menus and locally sourced ingredients.
The drink Literally hundreds of bottles of French wine, plus a dozen or so cocktails.
Time Out tip Be adventurous with your wine choice and trust the staff to guide you through Brasserie Olivia’s resplendent collection. That, and don’t be in a rush.