Le Pristine Café Antwerp Review – Mussels, Pasta & People-Watching in the City’s Stylish Heart

A relaxed dining gem by Sergio Herman where weekly pastas, seasonal mussels, and Antwerp street life take centre stage.

Le Pristine Café is strategically located at the crossroads of these two cities, making it easily accessible to both tourists and locals. It’s the relaxed younger sibling to Sergio Herman's Michelin-starred main act next door.

This isn’t the temple of gastronomy where waiters glide like stagehands and tasting menus are treated with the reverence of sacred texts. Instead, Le Pristine Café is the aperitif to all of that—a place where the city’s bustle filters in with the clink of cutlery, where shopping bags are parked at the table like extra guests, and where a plate of pasta feels both indulgent and necessary.

Walk in through the same entrance as Herman’s star-holding restaurant, and you’re immediately offered two worlds. Inside, the café’s atmosphere is informal yet stylish, characterised by clean lines and contemporary Dutch design flair. Step further, and you’re faced with a dilemma worthy of a lifestyle magazine spread: retreat into the serene backyard terrace, a cloistered antidote to Meir’s retail chaos, or slide onto the trottoir tables, a front-row seat to Antwerp’sendlessly entertaining parade of flâneurs, cyclists, and the occasional small dog in a puffer jacket.

And the food? For me, it’s always been about two things: the pasta of the week and, come September, the mussels. The pasta offering here is a weekly ritual, rooted in the Italian canon but with Herman’s knowing wink of flavour. I’ve had linguine kissed with bottarga, rigatoni cloaked in parmesan cream, and once, a tagliatelle so perfumed with truffle I briefly considered petitioning the EU to declare it contraband. The mussels, a national birthright in Belgium, are plump, perfectly steamed, and singing with the seasoning of the season-sometimes wine and herbs, sometimes a more decadent broth that clings to the shell.

Then there are the mussels. In a country where moules-frites is a national birthright, Le Pristine Café manages to tread that line between tradition and flair. Plump, perfectly steamed, and singing with the seasoning of the season—sometimes wine and herbs, sometimes a more decadent broth that clings to the shell—they arrive as the city itself begins to change tempo with the onset of autumn. Paired with frites, crisp and unapologetically golden, it’s a meal that answers both appetite and atmosphere.

The service is brisk but warm, the kind of hospitality that doesn’t hover yet seems to know precisely when you’re ready for another glass of wine. This unobtrusive yet attentive service will make you feel comfortable and well-cared for. Speaking of which, the wine list is approachable without being predictable—another reminder that while this is Herman’s“casual” side, nothing here is phoned in.

Le Pristine Café isn’t the starched tablecloth, culinary pilgrimage spot. It doesn’t need to be. It’s the kind of place you return to, the kind of place that remembers you without needing to say so. For me, it’s become a fixed point in Antwerp’sever-changing compass: a bowl of pasta, a plate of mussels, and a seat watching the city walk by.

Because sometimes the best dining luxury isn’t a tasting menu—it’s simply belonging.