Local Bistro

Thank our lucky stars, there's always La Ripaille!

At a time when many Manhattan restaurants have the life-spans of butterflies, La Ripaille has survived in a quiet corner of the West Village for almost 30 years. Its owner, Alain Laurent, bustles around greeting guests, waiting tables and wisecracking in French and English, his blousy white shirt, broad Gallic face and beak-like nose making him look like he stepped out of a Jean Renoir film. Classic French pop music plays softly, and one half-expects to find Serge Gainsbourg nursing a whiskey in the corner.

My husband and I stumbled on this little gem one snowy night years ago and were lured inside by its red brick walls and the candles flickering in the window. Because of the weather, we were one of only three or four parties seated that night and Alain, who had the fireplace blazing, made us feel as if we were guests in his home.

But whether it is almost empty, or entirely full--as it was on our most recent visit--La Ripaille always feels warm and intimate. The food is traditional bistro fare, cooked in the old style. Rich, slowly-simmered sauces that pay homage to butter and cream, the onion and the mushroom.

Last night, our group passed around three dishes and an appetizer. All were delicious. We started with broccoli mousse in a lemony butter sauce and sopped up every last drop of sauce with the wonderfully crusty bread that is always on the table. The service was attentive but leisurely, giving us the chance to look around and see who our fellow diners might be. They were diverse in age and included a few twenty-somethings, as well as middle-aged neighborhood people and affluent retirees dining with their grown children.

Next, came the chicken breast in brown sauce with bacon and mushrooms, prepared "facon Grand-mere"--grandmother-style--and served with baby zucchini and creamy mashed potatoes, which we thought was a fitting repaste for an early spring evening. The farfalle with salmon, tomatoes and vodka was also excellent, with its whimsical garnish of unsnipped chives. Best of all was the Catalan-style penne with sausage, mushrooms, tomatoes and cream. The flavors of its buttery-soft sausage lingered in the mouth long after the last bite went down. For dessert, we shared tarte tatin (apple tart) and chocolate cake and thought the tarte, with its distinctive, caramelized flavor, had the greater character of the two.

Prices are not inexpensive. Neither are they outrageous. When you consider the quality of the food and the experience, it's a good value for the money. With its satisfying food, warm ambience and friendly service, La Ripaille offers civilized but relaxed dining. And in New York City, that's not easy to come by these days.

Merci et bonsoir, Monsieur Alain. We will be back again, as soon as our pocketbook allows it. And may your cozy bistro remain on Hudson Street for many more years to come!

La Ripaille
605 Hudson Street (btw. 12th & Bethune)
West Village, New York City, NY
212-255-4406