On the Sauce at De Beauvoir Deli: Bread and wine in N1

De Beauvoir has always befuddled me. What even is it? These days I have friends who live there. They host parties with gazebos and good buffets, more courgette tartlets than mini spring rolls. I enjoy both. And now I enjoy De Beauvoir, an upmarket tract of London sandwiched between Islington (boring) and Dalston (very much not). Also, it’s full to the bloody rim with places successful people go to: Towpath Cafe, host of Jessie Buckley’s wedding party (Guinness and cheese toasties); The Dreamery, which sells ice cream and wine to people who probably aren’t called Susan or Keith; and Godet, the idea of which makes me sleepy, and yet is good. Floppy prawn wontons and mondeuse? Sure, any time. I’ll wear colourful socks beneath my Birkenstocks and talk about mental health and relationships if y