Chiho Kanzaki and Marcello di Giacomo dishes are meticulous, delicate and coherent. There are rarely more than three elements on the plate: a piece of meat or fish cooked to perfection, incredibly fresh vegetables still glistening from the morning dew, and a succulent sauce. The monkfish roasted whole of a pearly-white hue served with tender salsifi and a shallot and lemon-thyme jus is sublime. The first scallops of the season, served raw and accompanied by a couple of juicy turnips cut into little pieces are an ode to their vegetable grower Vincent.

The menu is like a wave of thank you notes to the incredibly produce that they receive every day (Annie Bertin’s succulent corn). And here and there, you will find little nods to their roots, like Marcelo’s maté sorbet dessert with granny smith apples, celery ganache and pastis. Their four-handed plating is filled with emotion, and their clear complicity is heart-warming: “I am Japanese, so pretty square” laughs Chiho. “And I add a little spontaneity and mayhem to the mix” chuckles Marcelo. Here they are in one of the most beautiful Parisian restaurants, surrounded by an enthusiastic team and precious wines from France and elsewhere. When you hear them talk about the essence of French cuisine, between tradition and modernity, and watch them send out a whole fish or animal to be carved in the dining room and taste the homemade butter served alongside the bread that is still warm, you cannot help but be moved.