L'Entracte sur Paris

Thank you Gilles for your welcome!

It is rare to discover a place that transcends the simple culinary experience. Yet this is what happened to me recently, in a small restaurant nestled in Montmartre, run by a single man, Gilles, this chic and authentic Montmartre alchemist. At first glance, the place is intriguing: a room with 15 to 20 seats, only one service per evening, and the one-man orchestra, Gilles, who takes care of everything, from reservations to the plate. You have to book well in advance to hope to get in, but patience, as this dinner will prove, is a virtue. The rhythm of the evening is a tribute to slowness. But that’s precisely the beauty of the place: we don’t come to eat quickly. We come to enjoy, discuss, remake the world over a drink and a plate. As soon as you walk through the door, the charm begins. The walls, covered with paintings representing the neighborhood and the neighboring theater, tell a story. Each canvas is a window opening onto a Paris that is losing itself. Coming here is much more than dinner. It’s taking a ticket to the most famous play of a no-longer theater. The walls sweat with anecdotes. Gilles is not just a cook, he is the master of ceremonies of a rare culinary and human experience. This restaurant is a vial to a past, where time seems suspended. The meal reflects the place: generous, sincere, and deeply rooted in a tradition of authenticity. Let’s take the rack of lamb. It’s a dish that doesn’t just taste good: it commands respect with its size, its flavors, and the obvious love that shines through in every bite. Everything is homemade, and everything seems intended to remind you that Gilles, alone in front of his stove, has nothing to envy of the big brigades. Known or lesser known shadows who come to seek refuge in this sanctuary of sharing. Gilles, heir to a tradition of conviviality, recounts in every detail the glorious past of the establishment, where Belmondo, Gabin, and Michou once came to sit down. And when the service ends, the show continues. Gilles, cigar on his lips, gives you time to absorb the silence of the place, then returns, a glass of rum in hand, like a last toast to an unforgettable evening. Gilles does not just feed his guests. He offers them a house, a theater, a memory. Because just as great dishes do not always come from great kitchens, great experiences can be born from a simplicity mastered by a single man. A great artist can come from anywhere. And Montmartre can boast of having Gilles.

Excellent excellent excellent!! Nothing to say!! Bravo to the chef for his cooking, his kindness and his sincerity!! Real cooking!