Flûte is the brainchild of Parisian Hervé Rousseau, who opened the first one in Manhattan in 1997. His aim was to introduce Champagne as an everyday drink to cocktail sipping New Yorkers, a casual approach that resulted in a second branch in Manhattan, followed by Paris, and late last year on London’s Great Portland Street.
A rope guards the entrance, but it’s surprisingly un-glitzy once we get to the bottom of the stairs. In fact, it’s very understated. Dark leather armchairs are placed around low tables, and there are high stools at the bar. The décor is limited to some flatscreens displaying images of roaring fires (why?), and the soundtrack is a mish-mash of 90s R&B and, rather hellishly, ‘Lilly Was Here’, the cheesiest sax song ever composed in the history of music.
The Champagne starts at £60 for a bottle of Moët & Chandon, a glass is £11, although you can also splash out £1,000 on the Bollinger Vieilles Vignes Françaises 2002 should you wish to. The cocktails look enticing enough (the Champagne Pisco Sour and the Marquis de Sade made with sangria catch our eye) but we dive in with two glasses of Louis Roederer Brut Premier. Smooth and just a little fruity, it goes down a bit too easily, so next we opt for the Taittinger La Française and the Charles Heidsieck Brut. Five minutes later the waiter materialises with four flutes on a tray – it’s happy hour! Unbeknown to us it’s buy one get one free till 8 pm, which means we’re going to be trollied before dinnertime.
The Taittinger and Heidsieck are a little fresher, sparklier, and not quite as smooth as the Roederer, which remains the favourite. In a bid to remain sober we order a cheese and fruit platter, which priced at £10 for a few titbits of Cheddar and Emmental turns out to be the only rip-off. A tray of mini cheeseburgers gets delivered to the next table, perhaps we’ve made the wrong choice? However with the bill coming to just £56, no one’s not complaining. Except maybe about the music.
