Like many others since the pandemic, I made the move out of London last year. Having edited Square Mile’s sister publication Foodism for years, I had a necessarily London-centric view on dining. With that in mind, a move away from the capital for a food lover doesn’t just mean a longer commute; surely it means leaving most of the country’s best restaurants in the rear-view mirror, too.
Or does it? For a start, there are countless chefs and restaurateurs making some of the best food in the country who’ll tell you their only experience with London is an annual trip to a restaurant awards show to pick up their accolades for doing just that.
But nonetheless, as rent and rates in the capital continue to make operating a chic neighbourhood bistro tricky, to say the least, a new wave of restaurateurs schooled in the capital are upping sticks to the far reaches of the country, in search of fertile ground to cook great local produce for a discerning local crowd, and without the financial tail-chasing of running a venue in the capital. For those who’ve moved out, food and hospitality with a London mindset well outside the M25 remains a tantalising prospect indeed.
So it is that two of my best friends and I travelled through semi-rural Yorkshire to Bavette, in the quaint town of Horsforth, just outside Leeds.
So far, so The Trip, although this wasn’t an epic pilgrimage from London and back, but a new local restaurant for the friend whose house we were staying at for the weekend (and who himself moved up north from East Dulwich five years ago). As these weekends are a covert excuse to drink wines we’ve been saving, this was perfect on paper – a cosy neighbourhood restaurant, the kind of modern-classic French bistro menu that’s become the genre du jour in London, from Bistro Freddie to Henri and more, and a short cab ride home.
Bavette was founded by a couple, Sandy Jarvis and Clément Cousin, whose experience in London included being the MD and head chef for the Culpeper Group (Jarvis) and restaurant manager and sommelier at Brawn and The Buxton (Cousin).
They met at the now-closed Terroirs Covent Garden wine bar and restaurant, married, and long harboured dreams of leaving the rat race for the quiet life.
Cousin is the attentive host on our visit, explaining that they only visited Horsforth once or twice before making the move. A gamble, certainly, but almost a year later, with a full restaurant on a Saturday night, it looks to have paid off.
A 2025 Bib Gourmand from Michelin and last year’s ‘Best local restaurant’ from the Good Food Guide certainly don't hurt when it comes to filling covers.
Our table of three gives us a great vantage point for both the open kitchen and the dining room. Off the bat we order snacks – crusty, robust baguette with a verdant whipped butter laced with tarragon and chervil; liver parfait piped onto softly sweet brioche; and a serving of crispy and delicate comté beignets that are duly reordered a few seconds before the first plate’s finished.
This isn’t ‘French-inspired’ dining; this is food so French it could have been served at Cousin’s family kitchen in the Loire Valley, as evidenced by sumptuously assembled steak tartare with duck-fat crisps, and by the smack of opulent, warming flavour in a shellfish bisque, served with a pool of grassy olive oil resting on its surface.
The menu is suited to late summer’s about-face to autumn, and the mains follow suit: we resist the urge for the restaurant’s namesake dish (and clear cult favourite) with peppercorn sauce, largely because I can’t see the words “lamb pithivier” on a menu and not order it.
Soft but full-flavoured lamb is encased in buttery, flaky pastry, and served with a pan sauce and steamed broccoli topped with lamb’s best friend, anchovy fillets.
The duck breast is similarly punchy, its cuisson showing blushing pink meat atop a prune and armagnac jus and the ingenious addition of a warm salad hiding tender chunks of confit duck leg.
Wine-wise, the list is plentiful and nicely curated; given the theme of the weekend, we arranged corkage and brought a couple of bottles, so while I can’t speak authoritatively on Cousin’s wines, I can confirm both mains paired very well with an inordinately good bottle of mature claret we’d been saving for the last year for an occasion just like this.
A list of six desserts included chocolate fondant and tarte tatin (for my local friend, see the same impulse that meant the pithivier was similarly non-negotiable). Savoury courses done, and a couple of hours in, what can be an afterthought in fact provided a crescendo – crème anglaise spiked with calvados made the layers of caramelised apple even more delicious, as did vibrant cherry ice cream for the layers of lush, luxuriant chocolate – and a fresh, acidic and rich Jurançon sec from the list was a great foil for both.
We ambled out not to onrushing buses on the way to the Tube, but to quiet cobbled streets and into a quick cab. We may be far from the capital, but for us, and for Bavette’s founders, the night is a perfect riposte to the idea that leaving the city means contemporary food and great hospitality will no longer be on your doorstep.
Bavette, 4-6 Town Street, Horsforth, Leeds LS18 4RJ; bavettebistro.com
