Camille

Millions of people scurry through Borough Market every year, but at Camille things move as languidly as room temperature butter across warm baguette. A Gauloise hangs nonchalantly from the bottom lip of this bistro, and its je ne sais quoi feels at odds in the surrounding ruckus. Tight-knit and refreshingly laissez-faire, it's easy to imagine catching feelings for someone here. But it’s even easier to fall for Camille.

A gallery of wine bottles line the shelves, specials are scrawled across mirrors, and knees knock as two-person tables squeeze in a third. The room has a purposeful intimacy about it that a Parisian could take for granted, but not a haggard Londoner. Here, tables mop up crab bisque like the clichéd flavour-starved nation we are, and excitedly knock forks over smoked eel devilled eggs. Every nook and cranny feels like it comes with a careless whisper, and you’ll be hard pressed to find a better restaurant for a date, romantic or platonic. 

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

As is so often the case, it’s the little things. The chalkboard menu that greets you, the linen curtains that line the window counter, the jovial staff who keep glasses flowing. That extends to the food, because the smaller bits reign supreme at Camille. Everything—from the creamy baguette and butter, down to rich ox tongue swimming in a riesling-spiked sauce, or the chocolate and ice cream-stuffed choux—is a triumph of indulgence. 

No sauce should be left unsmeared by your fingers. Nor should too much weight be placed on the larger plates. Camille’s big sharing options are fine, but feel like a sideshow. A table with the caramelised shallot tatin and crispy Jerusalem artichokes (covered in a blanket of cheese) will be infinitely happier than the one that forked out for the pork chop.

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Restaurants like Camille should be filed in the cabinet marked ‘Timeless’. A group of tourists from Tokyo are just as likely to find joy in its wobbling burnt milk tart, as a budding sommelier from Hackney is in its grapes. It’s not perfect, but then nothing this effortless-feeling is. Come with butter and bottles on your mind and Camille, with a wink and a glass of crémant, will show you how it’s done.

Food Rundown

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Smoked Eel Devilled Eggs

Coming on a dainty floral plate and delicately stuffed with a lightly spiced yolk mixture, these devilled eggs feel like they’re best paired with a doily and a bottle of wine before midday. A tender (but not too overpowering) chunk of smoked eel on top makes these a lovely aperitif snack.

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Crab Toast, Wild Garlic & Bisque

If ‘bisque’ is on the menu, then we’re ordering it. And you should certainly take that approach here too. This thick slice of brioche toast—fried to a crunching golden brown—is topped with not just a dollop, but a glorious mound of white and brown crab meat. It’s creamy, luscious, and the kind of thing we envision French nobility eating for breakfast. As for that brown, herb oil-flecked bisque in which it sits: mop, slurp, and swipe with your finger. Nothing should be left in this bowl.

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Shallot Tatin & Chicory Salad

Like any tatin worth its salt, be it sweet or savoury, this shallot creation is glistening, a little charred, and sort of deformed-looking in a quite beautiful way. While completely lovely in bites—melt in your mouth, crunching pastry, and biting cut-through from the apple, chicory, and blue cheese salad—there’s something about this dish that promises more. More shallots? A bigger hit of lush, sweet onion? It’s good, but it could be great.

Jerusalem Artichoke, Aioli, & Lincolnshire Poacher

It might be hard to work out what’s going on on this plate—such is the showering of cheese on top—but you should know that everything is very, very, good. These nuggets of crunchy Jerusalem artichoke are nutty, soft, and entirely addictive when combined with a blob of aioli woofing with garlic, as well as a microplaned blanket of cheese.

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Potato Pavé & Hay Mayonnaise

London restaurants love a multi-layered fried potato because, well, who doesn’t? The glorious rectangles of carb are crunchy, soft, and topped with hay mayonnaise. It’s a no-brainer of a side order.

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Burnt Milk Tart

Burning food is bad. Unless you’re intentionally burning things. In which case, that can be good. This burnt milk tart is very good, when it’s done right. The first we had was a wobbling, silken wonder. Slightly charred on top, crème brûlée-style, but sweet and savoury with perfectly crumbly thin pastry. Our second, unfortunately, was overdone and split.

photo credit: Aleksandra Boruch

Chocolate Bun

Some things don’t need to be overthought. Choux pastry, chocolate mousse, and vanilla ice cream is one of them. This combination is all stuffed together in what is, for all intents and purposes, a big ball of pudding. Soft, sweet, not too rich, and a little cold—it’s a winner.