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One of the most appealing things about Le Chêne, the new, authentically Parisian restaurant in the West Village created by the exclusively French couple Alexia Duchêne and Ronan Duchêne Le May, is that it has no interest in conforming to American notions of Parisian romance and fantasy. Instead, its style is based on cool French chic: edgy, sophisticated, and effortless, showing off an effortless effortlessness. Duchêne and Le May are relatively new to Paris, and they worked with a Parisian decorator (the talented Frédérique Mortier d'Aumont) to design the dining room, which features creamy whites and jewel tones, chunky flatware, and lightweight stemware, enlivened only by a few small Basquiat and Warhol paintings on the walls. Even the Diptyque Figuier scent, emanating from a diffuser discreetly hidden behind a crimson velvet banquette, is impeccably Parisian. The waiters wear white shirts with narrow shoulders, unbuttoned low enough to reveal the embroidered inscription on the inside of the placket, discreet enough not to seem banal: “Je t’aime.” Throughout my visits, I was surprised by how many of the dozen tables seemed to speak French.
Duchêne is something of a culinary wunderkind. Six years ago, at the age of twenty-three, she reached the semifinals of the French version of Top Chef. In 2023, she moved to New York to take over the kitchen of Margot in Fort Greene, where her precise, formal cooking won acclaim but ultimately proved incompatible with the establishment’s more informal aims; she left after a month. At Le Chêne, a purpose-built showcase for her talents, her technical skills are on display to an exceptional degree, in that old-fashioned way that now seems so fresh—call it the new nerdiness. I admired the delicate arrangement of tiny, sweet shrimp on a blob of crème fraîche in coin-sized tartlets, and the laborious complexity of a slice of lucullus, an intricate terrine of thin, alternating, and countless layers of foie gras and beef tongue.
Endive with oyster mayonnaise.
Sourse: newyorker.com
