Eating Out in New York (II)

In the tiny kitchen, where copper pots hang on the walls and white canisters of spices line the shelves, a colorfully decorated note posted beside the counter reads: “We think your restaurant is fantastic and we had a beautiful evening. Thank you.” For Charles Chevillot, owner of La Petite Ferme on West Tenth Street, that note represents the highest sort of praise; and judging from my own experience chez lui, where everything—food, atmosphere, service, and price—works perfectly together, he must have scrapbooksful of similar messages.

M. Chevillot, a native of Beaune in the province of Burgundy, is no newcomer to the restaurant business, though La Petite Ferme has only been in operation since 1971. His grandfather owned and operated the Hôtel de la Poste in Beaune, and he has brought to New York all the fine traditions and recipes of a French country inn. The restaurant is small—only six tables—and wonderfully simple, as are M. Chevillot’s culinary offerings. Fresh- cut flowers grace each table; a full wine rack lines half of one wall, and a low bench beside it holds big baskets of baguettes and fresh fruit. There are two doves, Mimi and Fifi, in a cleverly fashioned cage (“I made it myself,” M. Chevillot says as we chat over a kir) that hangs from the ceiling, their gentle cooing suggesting the peace of a twilight farmyard.

LP

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Laurie Prothro

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In the tiny kitchen, where copper pots hang on the walls and white canisters of spices line the shelves, a colorfully decorated note posted beside the counter reads: “We think your restaurant is fantastic and we had a beautiful evening. Thank you.” For Charles Chevillot, owner of La Petite Ferme on West Tenth Street, that note represents the highest sort of praise; and judging from my own experience chez lui, where everything—food, atmosphere, service, and price—works perfectly together, he must have scrapbooksful of similar messages.

M. Chevillot, a native of Beaune in the province of Burgundy, is no newcomer to the restaurant business, though La Petite Ferme has only been in operation since 1971. His grandfather owned and operated the Hôtel de la Poste in Beaune, and he has brought to New York all the fine traditions and recipes of a French country inn. The restaurant is small—only six tables—and wonderfully simple, as are M. Chevillot’s culinary offerings. Fresh- cut flowers grace each table; a full wine rack lines half of one wall, and a low bench beside it holds big baskets of baguettes and fresh fruit. There are two doves, Mimi and Fifi, in a cleverly fashioned cage (“I made it myself,” M. Chevillot says as we chat over a kir) that hangs from the ceiling, their gentle cooing suggesting the peace of a twilight farmyard.