The chef behind Paris’s culinary revolution

With its young-gun talent, opulent dining room and theatrical fare, a hotel restaurant is the talk of the French capital.

The majestic dining room with its striking marble table.

This article appeared in issue six of Travel + Luxury magazine. Explore the full edition.

In the rarefied world of Paris dining it was equivalent to a palace revolution. After two decades of helming the restaurant at Hôtel Plaza Athénée, eminent chef Alain Ducasse was unseated by a boyish upstart, Jean Imbert, last June.

At the time the 40-year-old was better known for winning the French edition of Top Chef, palling around with Pharrell Williams and Jay-Z on social media, and forging a partnership with the fashion house Dior. But what Imbert lacks in Michelin stars, he makes up for with star quality.

I know this because I was fortunate enough to dine at Jean Imbert au Plaza Athénée earlier this year and I was utterly wowed by the experience.

It’s not often you get to witness a seismic shift in a city’s dining culture, but it felt that way to this visitor.

A gaspingly beautiful dining room, reimagined by interior designer Rémi Tessier, captures the new mood. At its centre is a majestic 12-metre-long dining table cut from a single block of antique Breccia marble. This elaborate communal table is divided into sections by stone vases filled with blush hydrangeas, and flanked by a series of intimate alcove spaces with tables for two.

Countless candelabra, baroque chandeliers and thousands of gold leaves that trace filigreed ceilings illuminate this Sun King-worthy setting.

Le Vol-au-Vent is finished at the table.

The grand space finds its match in Imbert’s equally dazzling menu. It’s an ode to time- honoured French gastronomy informed by the oeuvres of Auguste Escoffier, François Vatel and Antoine Carême, with playful takes on classic dishes, all reinvigorated with a light touch. Refined but not fussy.

Over two visits, I tried every artfully plated dish on the menu, dining with a group of chef friends who marvelled at the masterful technique, exquisite flavours and superb ingredients on display.

Highlights included a whole lobster with a cascade of jellied medallions adorning its back, while a cinematic take on vol-au-vents saw a dish of truffles, mushrooms, sweetbreads and langoustines topped with a round pastry lid and sauced at the table. Turbot soufflé was as indulgent as it sounds, cooked whole in a copper kettle and also finished tableside.

The service was faultless on both occasions, the mood undeniably celebratory. The restaurant buzzed as waiters, guided by restaurant director Denis Courtiade, glided past with trolleys, silver trays and endless temptations.

Chef Jean Imbert.

This immersive experience continued after the main courses were cleared. A bell sounded, lights were dimmed and a window opened to reveal a concealed dessert kitchen. Here, a gaggle of pastry chefs were preparing their creations behind a line-up of cheeses. Patrons select from a flurry of small, sublime plates.

A pancake with clementines was flambéed in Grand Marnier at the table, à la classic crêpes Suzette. A creamy tartlet was branded before our eyes with a red-hot iron by head pastry chef Angelo Muso. Much to everyone’s delight, the theatrical flourishes of the kitchen have been transferred to the dining room. Such touches, a kind of élite culinary performance, definitely amped up the enjoyment factor. Starved for such stagecraft, the revellers lapped it up.

In addition to revivifying this fine-diner, Imbert has retooled Le Relais Plaza, the more casual brasserie next door. The Art Deco dining room has an ornate curved mirrored bar, bespoke tableware and an accessible menu that nods to the chef’s beloved grandmother, Mamie, whose cooking inspired his career.

The 12-metre-long dining table cut from a single block of antique Breccia marble.

Naturally, I stopped in for lunch. We tried dishes such as My Grandmother’s Pâté 1951, vibrant leek vinaigrette and a beef fillet with foie gras wrapped in brioche pastry. A velvety potato dauphinoise served with the beef was the best rendition I’ve ever had. To finish, I tried an unforgettable floating island, a heady mix of vanilla crème anglaise, rich caramel and nuts.

We floated out of the restaurant and along the stately Avenue Montaigne on cloud nine.

To some sniffy observers, handing the keys of such a storied dining institution to a young chef was sacrilegious. But, to my mind, it felt emblematic of a dynamic energy coursing through Paris.

Imbert’s playful, polished and joyfully modern take on haute cuisine may well be the perfect antidote for our pandemic malaise. If you’re heading to the City of Light this year, eating at the Plaza Athénée is a must.

This article appeared in issue six of Travel + Luxury magazine. Explore the full edition.