Fake French — Restaurant in Sofia City

Ah, Fake French. The name alone had me intrigued. Was it a joke? A warning? Or just an unapologetic nod to Sofia’s most talked-about culinary hotspot? My friends, bless their enthusiastic hearts, had managed to snag a reservation—an accomplishment they delivered with the kind of pride usually reserved for scaling Everest or finding free parking in Sofia. “This is the place,” they gushed. Cult status, apparently. Who was I to argue? Off we went.

The moment you walk in, you’re greeted by an unapologetic mountain of butter. Not a stick. Not a pat. A mountain. It sat on a side table, majestic and gleaming, daring anyone to challenge its buttery supremacy. Next to it, perfectly sliced bread waited, smugly confident in its role as butter’s loyal companion. It was, frankly, hilarious. I half-expected someone to pop out and yell, “This is France, baby!” while waving a baguette.

The restaurant’s interior was trying very hard to be French, and honestly, it was pulling it off. Dark green bench seating? Check. Rustic tables? Check. Moody, romantic lighting? Double check. The art on the walls? Oh, it whispered Parisian chic, or maybe it just shouted it. Either way, it worked. It felt like stepping into a brasserie that took itself just seriously enough to be authentic but not so seriously that it forgot we were all here to eat and have a laugh.

The menu arrived—a double-sided card. Simple. To the point. French. None of that overwhelming, multi-page nonsense where you start wondering if you’ve accidentally opened an encyclopedia. I appreciated the efficiency. The food choices? Classic French hits with a little twist. We went for a feast, because why not? French onion soup, chicken liver pâté, crispy cauliflower, gnocchi with duck ragu, onion dip, and, for good measure, a pork chop. Go big or go home, right?

The soup was a winner—rich, warm, and comforting, like a cashmere blanket on a frosty evening. The onion dip was delightful, with crispy pancetta that added a satisfying crunch. The chicken liver pâté came with a lovely onion compote, though the bread wasn’t toasted, which felt like a missed opportunity. Come on, Fake French, toast the bread! The gnocchi? Absolute poetry on a plate. Those pillowy dumplings swimming in duck ragu were enough to make me consider moving to France—except this was Sofia, so that felt unnecessary.

But the star of the show? The crispy cauliflower. I know, cauliflower. It sounds ridiculous, but this thing was a revelation. The truffle sauce looked suspiciously like tahini, but one bite erased all doubt—it was magnifique. The pork chop, on the other hand, was a little less inspiring. Tougher than it should’ve been, with a sauce that was a tad too acidic. And their tartiflette? Well, let’s just say it’s no threat to the original from Haute-Savoie, but hey, they tried.

Dessert, though, was a saga. They were out of baked Alaska. Out of soufflé. The collective heartbreak at the table was palpable. We settled for chocolate mousse and cheesecake with passion fruit sauce. And thank heavens we did. The cheesecake was bruleed right at the table, which was not just a treat for the taste buds but also a little bit of dinner theater. The mousse? Decadent, rich, and totally worth the calories.

Now, let’s talk about the waitstaff. They were dressed like extras from a Jean Paul Gaultier ad—white t-shirts with blue horizontal stripes, channeling every French stereotype except the beret. Why no berets? This feels like a missed branding opportunity. But they were charming, efficient, and friendly, so I forgave them for not fully committing to the look.

The evening was, in a word, splendid. Sure, there were tiny hiccups—the un-toasted bread, the elusive desserts—but Fake French lived up to the hype. It’s buzzing, it’s fun, and it’s delicious. Butter mountains, cauliflower revelations, and striped-shirted waiters who don’t take themselves too seriously? What’s not to love? If you can get a table, go. Just don’t forget to...

Just finished dinner at “Fake French” with my girlfriend and another couple. We were all shocked by the way the restaurant functioned. We started with the French onion soup and salads, which were okay. I ordered the main beef dish on the menu. It came in at the absurd price of 46 leva, for what it was. My girlfriend got the cauliflower. We both waited over an hour after we had finished our soups for the mains to come. After asking the staff what was going on with the food they told us that it was “being prepared”. Not to mention that one of the girl’s soup bowl was sitting at the table the whole time empty without the staff noticing it almost the entire night. After the gruelling wait of over an hour and a half it food finally came. That wait was definitely not worth it. The meat was completely raw and I couldn’t even cut it with the knife I was provided with. I was done in less than 5 minutes with a meal that apparently took two hours to prepare. I ate two on the three potatoes that came with the dish and just left it. The waitress that was serving us just came and asked if I was done and took it away. Not once did she ask if the food was okay, or why did I leave all my food in the plate. She just took it and left. The whole night this particular waitress seemed off. Like she was on some sort of calming medication. When she was pouring our wine she kept spilling it on the table and in our water glasses. For the price we were paying the whole experience seemed absolutely absurd. Sadly that’s not the end of it as the other couple decided to make the mistake of ordering desserts after being told that they would take 15 minutes. Well you guessed it they took around 40 minutes to be served. With again very subpar and undercooked desserts. Overall a very disappointing experience for what this place is trying to present to the consumer. The main issue seemed to be the huge amount of people that they tried to cramp inside the restaurant. The kitch small kitchen and the obviously untrained staff couldn’t manage...

The Good:

1 The pumpkin salad was pleasant, featuring crisp vegetables and a delicate blend of flavors. 2 The fish was also quite good—well-cooked and flavorful. 3 Both dishes, however, were rather small, and considering the overall experience, they felt overpriced. 4 One positive note: they were honest enough to acknowledge a charge for wine we didn't order and corrected it.

The Bad:

1 Atmosphere: The environment was unbearably noisy and uncomfortably hot. If you're not in a T-shirt, you'll likely feel like you're melting in your seat—and not because of your company, but because the space feels like a furnace. 2 The tables were arranged so closely together that you'll likely find yourself engaged in conversation with the people at the next table, whether you intend to or not. 3 The servers were polite but largely unhelpful. The main course arrived before the salads. When we inquired about this, the server responded with a blank look and said they would "ask our server"—which left us wondering why they were delivering food to our table if they weren’t our server. We later learned that the salads were delayed because they had forgotten to write down our order for them. Forgetting three salads is a rather glaring oversight. 4 The "French omelette" was disappointing—a tasteless fish topped with an egg-like sauce and a few pieces of popcorn, completely unlike what we had seen on Instagram. The flavor was the polar opposite of the other dishes. After a few bites, we left it untouched. Notably, the server never bothered to ask if everything was okay. 5 Ordering another glass of the same wine was another awkward experience. Rather than approaching the table properly, the server poured the wine between our heads, interrupting our conversation and adding yet another uncomfortable moment to the already unpleasantly hot and noisy atmosphere.

In conclusion, I doubt I will return unless I want to test the limits of my vocal cords in the chaotic and stifling...