Walking into The Wes, the references announce themselves immediately. On the left, a sweeping pink mural of The Grand Budapest Hotel dominates the left wall, and from there, the language of Wes Anderson — symmetry, pastel hues, and whimsy — carries through the room.
Anderson’s aesthetic has permeated popular culture for years, and as an acclaimed filmmaker, it has inspired more than one restaurant. Melbourne’s Budapest Café draws from The Grand Budapest Hotel. Bar Luce in Milan was designed by Anderson himself, a recreation of a mid-century Milanese café.
But the restaurant on Shortmarket Street in Cape Town may be the most fully realised interpretation yet. Soft, dusky-pink ceilings, powder-blue walls, and large windows flood a corner space with natural light. Menus and cocktails reference Anderson’s characters and films. Staff move through it all in polished uniforms. The effect is elegant and gently playful.
Yet as lunch progresses, it becomes clear that the Anderson influence, central as it is, isn’t the whole story. At its core, The Wes is a classic French bistro. A chalkboard on the pavement lists the day’s specials. The menu, designed by respected chef Pete Goffe-Wood, is what a French bistro should be: hearty, classical, built on good ingredients and executed without fuss.
Owner Megan Kritzinger has woven together the worlds she loves — Anderson’s visual sensibility, the warmth of the south of France, and the intimate, uncomplicated spirit of a great traditional bistro. TripAdvisor ranks the Wes second among restaurants in Cape Town’s competitive city centre, and on the evidence of the food, that’s no surprise.
French onion soup arrives deeply flavoured and properly laden with onions, topped with molten cheese. An entrecôte (ribeye) with Café de Paris butter and slender crisp frites follows — cooked medium-rare, as it should be, delivering on both flavour and texture. Across the table, moules mariniere disappear quickly, the sauce drawing commentary that eventually yields the unsurprising confession of garlic and white wine. On the menu are other familiar bistro options such as steak tartare and duck.
The wine list reflects Kritzinger’s years spent visiting the south of France — a considered balance of classic and lesser-known names. Cocktails lean fully into the theme. The Grand Budapest (gin, lavender, rosemary, fresh lemon and egg white) is as visually striking as it is refreshing, its purple hue delivering an unexpected lift. Mr Fox’s Sly Bourbon and Captain Steve Zissou’s Revenge continue the playful thread.
The music is distinctively French, but not so much that it’s cliched and overpowering and adds to the ambience.
When asked whether the theme influences how she runs the restaurant, Kritzinger points to Gustav — the legendary concierge at the heart of The Grand Budapest Hotel, devoted to dignity and beauty in a world sliding into disorder. “I think to be inspired by Gustav is to be obsessed about the small details,” she says. “I love that.” A dirty apron is sent back. Substandard is not tolerated.
Her background as a corporate lawyer — a profession she still practises, though less so — may account for some of that precision. Her experience founding and running Stellski Coffee Bar & Café, a four-outlet Cape Town chain, accounts for the rest.
Dessert is executed with the same meticulous approach. Think ice cream profiteroles and dark chocolate sauce, and a chocolate mousse that was available on the daily chalkboard selection but could easily be promoted to a permanent place on the à la carte menu — so good that my dining partner couldn’t bring himself to leave either dessert behind, then thought the better of it and took the rest home anyway.
Would Wes Anderson approve? It’s a question that inevitably arises. Cape Town is a regular stop for international film crews, and Kritzinger says people connected to the filmmaker have visited more than once.
She believes he’d love it, and if he didn’t, she says, they’d change the name. On the evidence of the food, the space, and the care that’s gone into every detail, the name is almost certainly safe.
A Parisian hot chocolate on the menu catches my eye on the way out. Indulgent and wintery, the kind of thing that will make another visit easy to justify once the Cape Town cold sets in — which, at this point, is around now.
