The man behind the curtain in this white-on-white, Kubrick-esque space in the new Mandarin Oriental is molecular master Thierry Marx. Lunch menu, 70€; dinner, 145€ or 180€.
Hélène Darroze is one of the only women to have a Michelin star, which is an interesting sociological fact, if not necessarily a reason to eat at her eponymous restaurant. Darroze hails from southwestern France, and her cooking is strongly accented with flavors from that region, here elevated to one-star levels in a modern, luxe dining room, as well as the less formal “salon,” where small plates are available. Menus from 52€ (lunch) to 125€.
That executive chef Phillipe Labbés name is nearly homophonous to the name of this luxe enclave in the new Shangri-La hotel is only coincidence. “The bee” (as it translates) is actually a nod to the building’s Bonapartian heritage; it was built in 1896 by a princely nephew of the former emperor, whose coat of arms included a few golden bees. A century later, critics are buzzing about this addition to Paris’ haute dining scene. Many dishes present a main ingredient in dueling acts; meat and fowl come from royal lineage; the room is fit for modern aristocrats. It probably goes without saying that the prices will sting.
There must be at least one marriage proposal at the Jules Verne every day. Perched high in the Eiffel Tower, the restaurant was taken over by Ducasse, and his chef Pascal Féraud offers a menu of classics, befitting of the location (foie gras in many forms, escargots, tournedos de boeuf, Bresse chicken, savarin a l’Armagnac). The only thing missing might be a view of the tower itself. One Michelin star.
This landmark restaurant suffered after the death of legendary proprietor Claude Terrail, but his son André seems to have resuscitated the place, which could have languished into irrelevance on its (faded) laurels.
The neo-classical pavillion off the Champs-Elysées that houses Ledoyen is owned by the city of Paris, which seems to make sense given that this is one of the city’s oldest and most grand restaurants.
If the walls at Lasserre could talk, they would tell stories about white doves, Marc Chagall, ortolan, and Audrey Hepburn, stories of glitterati and résistants taking their truffled macaroni under the retractable roof.
A Phillipe Starck-designed dining room facing Laurent André’s open kitchen, a Bresse chicken priced in the three digit zone, a choice of 16 Pierre Hermé mille-feuilles: The age of austerity has not yet dawned at the Royal Monceau on avenue Hoche, and probably never will.
In the former spot of La Table de Joël Robuchon, Les Tablettes reopens with a new chef (Jean-Louis Nomicos) and a pop attitude.
Joël Robuchon’s empire expands again with the opening of another Atelier, this time on the Champs-Elysées. Expect deft use of global ingredients, pristine products, pretty people, and a wait, unless you nab reservation for lunch or the first dinner seating; otherwise, it’s first come, first served.
Luxury and history come together at Laurent, where you can dine in the former hunting lodge of Louis XIV or, better yet, at a table in the garden. Fine dining, fine setting.
This MIchelin one-star is in a grand pavilion in the Bois de Boulogne.
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