Grégory Marchand’s cuisine slips through the cracks of precise analysis and critical scrutiny. We recall an extremely conscientious food critic drop his spoon after taking a bite of his heirloom tomato gaspacho: “Sometimes you just want to let yourself be carried away.” That says it all, or almost does. His ravioli “al sole” is literally explosive. At first, we barely dared to touch it, we simply stroked it with our fork in a cautious attempt to pierce the mystery and nibbled on a crisp crosne, a sour mustard seed and a piece of parsnip, before deciding to take the plunge. The dough was firm, but allowed the sweet sourness of the ricotta to escape, while the suave and runny raw egg yolk coated the palate with glee.

And yet, this young chef who cut his chops in New York and London, doesn’t try to impress with performance techniques and improbable associations. He is all about immediate gratification, which he injects into all of his creations. In his smooth sweet potato purée that accompanies the rosy lamb, his tender Jerusalem artichokes that could almost be mistaken for porcini mushrooms, and his avocado panacotta with chocolate and corn flakes that oscillates between sensuousness and decadence. In this tiny New-York style bistro, diners surrender to his cuisine. Gregory Marchand often looks out onto the little dining room and smiles, especially when he catches a sigh of exaltation. Today, thanks to the support of his wife Marie, you can also indulge in his irresistible fast food at Frenchie to Go, or snack on his legendary breaded sweetbreads at the counter of his wine bar. Who had ever heard about the rue du Nil before Frenchie ?