Succession of Chefs Through the Years
My research topic involved French indicative economic planning and development in the post-second war era. I knew some people. One helped me to secure a reservation at Le Taillevent under his name. It must have worked because we were greeted warmly by a distinguished looking middle-aged man (later I learned he was the owner-manager Mr. Vrinat), and they ushered us to a corner table and we sat next to one another.
I did not take restaurant notes at the time, but three dishes were encrusted in my brain like unforgettable first pleasures of childhood: seafood sausage with beurre blanc; duck a l’orange; and marquise au chocolat with pistachio coulis. At the time I did not have established culinary standards and reference points. In the end all of the six restaurants I mentioned would become reference points against which I compare and evaluate contemporary dining. But this should be the topic of a separate article.
I learned that the chef at the time was Claude Deligne. He was not as reputed as the others, like Robuchon, Chapel, Senderens, Outhier, Pierre Troisgros and perhaps a tad less adventorous than the rest. But his cooking gave equal pleasure as the rest. I could tell after a few more visits in the 1980s that Taillevent equals perfection in precision. The cooking was not just flawless. It was also very subtle and effortlessly elegant. It certainly had a personality that was hard to pigeonhole and label. It was a time that the Michelin guide operated on different premises and principles than today (see the article…).
There was a change of the captain in the beginning of 1990s. Deligne retired and a new era started with Philip Legendre. But nothing changed. The same level of excellence in the cuisine and service continued without any hickup. I have some notes from a visit in the winter of 1997-1998. I praise everyting: stuffed zucchini flowers ; turbot cooked on the bone with smoked salmon infused beurre blanc; suckling lamb with perigourdine sauce and truffles. I emphasize the quality of ingredients, the precision in cooking and the excellence in sauces which has always characterized the best of French gastronomic cuisine. Regarding the ‘Marquise au Chocolat with pistachio coulis’, I have the following strong comments: «simply the best chocolate dessert ! » I should add that Legendre was also a grand master of cooking game dishes (gibier), and he continued to shine at Le Cinq, where he joined and left after Taillevent.
Legendre left right before 2000 and a new era began with Alain Soliveres (2002-2018). I knew his cooking, and my wife and I had eaten at Les Elysees du Vernet several times when he was there. My favorite dish was whole seabass (loup de mer) grilled in the Meditannean style on fennel branches, followed by his famous spelt risotto. The latter appeared at Taillevent, but not my favorite dish. Soliveres was a good chef, but perhaps shined a half notch less brillantly than Deligne and Legendre.
Then came some difficult years. The legendary host and wine expert Jean-Claude Vrinat passed away in early 2008 at 71 years old. The Michelin Guide had already demoted Taillevent a year earlier, and I went only once for a solid lunch right before Covid. The verdict: Very good but not as great as it used to be!
Then a new era began with a new chef in late 2021: Giuliano Sperandio. I knew his cooking from Le Clarence, where he cooked with excellent chef, Christophe Pele. But I had also visited La Bigarrade several times between 2007-2011 before Pele and Sperandio again came together at Le Clarence. In my opinion, at the time, La Bigarrade was the best in Paris for shellfish with just the right touch of sophistication. I also had several great meals at Le Clarence which to me equaled the top tier of restaurants with three Michelin stars in France.
My wife and I did not go to Taillevent until early 2025. My first visit on February 10 was stunning. Every single dish was at the three star level, but some stood out as unforgettable: the chef’s take on shellfish like scallops, oysters, sea urchin and carabineros in small portions and his creations with excellent quality Perigord truffles. The latter consisted of four components: Forgotten vegetables, a bouillon with pear and truffles, truffle in a crust, and, veal feet with generously sliced truffles. « Sole de petite peche mijotee au beurre maitre d’hotel » and a « chevreuil rossini » with dauphine potatoes and sauce poivrade, were also on par with the great classical dishes of the Deligne and Legendre era. If we sum up what made the meal special, it was a happy ensemble of top notch ingredients, precise cooking, exemplary saucing, attention to detail, and top-notch service.
Another visit followed in October of last year. We again had a very satisfacory meal, but it somehow fell short of the first visit. I later learned that Sperandio was not in the kitchen that day which partly explains the serving of good but not pristine quality langoustines and a rack of lamb cooked a touch more than optimum. If I were a Michelin inspector, I would have rated this meal equivalent to two stars.
Then came the 3rd visit under the new reign. This time I was with Fahri Gediz and Julien Mallol who are writing about our third visit. I agree with them in all details. My only qualm is that we requested the chef to prepare a menu highlighting black truffles and for sure he made all of us very happy. He found the best truffles available, but understandably in March they are less ‘aromatic and croquant’ than early February. At any rate it was an excellent meal, and it was certainly as good as any three star restaurant in Paris.
Taillevent: One of Our Favourite Institution in Paris
When I left the table after my first visit to Le Taillevent, I remember thinking that one should indulge in a place like this from time to time. Yet the restaurant’s quietly sophisticated cuisine must have left a deeper impression than I realized at the time, because within ten months I found myself returning for a third visit and this time with Vedat Milor and Julien Mallol. If I am honest, I suspect it will not be the last visit this year.
Le Taillevent occupies a former hôtel particulier that once belonged to the Duke of Morny, the grandson of the celebrated Napoleonic statesman Talleyrand. The restaurant’s interior reflects that lineage with ease: aristocratic and imperial influences coexist with warm wood-paneled walls and discreet, amber-toned lighting. The result is a dining room that feels timeless rather than fashionable—perfect for conversation and contemplation, though perhaps less forgiving for the social media era.
But Le Taillevent has never been a place that chases trends. Instead, it stands as one of the quiet bastions of classical French gastronomy in Paris.
That sense of classicism is not limited to the kitchen. It permeates the entire experience. The choreography of the dining room, the polished gestures of the staff, and the unhurried rhythm of the service all remind you that you are somewhere important. More importantly, they make you feel welcome in that importance.
In the dining room, Franck Bruneau and his team demonstrate what refined hospitality should look like. Their service is attentive yet unobtrusive, precise without feeling mechanical. Complementing this is the formidable wine program curated by Thomas Millt and his colleagues. The cellar at Le Taillevent has long been legendary, and its breadth and depth remain among the most impressive in Paris.
Such strength in the dining room inevitably shapes the experience of the cuisine. Too often, great food is undermined by poor service; at other times, thoughtful hospitality can elevate even imperfect cooking. Fine dining is never solely about what happens in the kitchen. At Le Taillevent, that equilibrium between kitchen and dining room is carefully preserved.
Giuliano Sperandio Era
Born in Imperia, in Italy’s Liguria region, Sperandio arrived in Paris nearly two decades ago after early successes in his home country. Here he absorbed the language of classical French cuisine with remarkable discipline. Yet his cooking is not merely an exercise in tradition.
Rather, it feels like a conversation between French classicism and Italian sensibility.
His cuisine rests firmly on classical foundations but allows room for subtle modern gestures – new techniques, contemporary ingredients, and occasional nods to his Mediterranean origins. The result is something close to a neo-classical style: respectful of tradition but unmistakably personal.
What strikes me most about Sperandio’s cooking is its composure. His dishes are balanced without heaviness, layered without unnecessary complication. They possess a quiet confidence.
And increasingly, they are defined by remarkable sauces.
Across the three menus I have experienced at Le Taillevent, the chef’s mastery in this area has become progressively clearer. Each visit seems to reveal another step in a chef’s restless pursuit of refinement.
At 44, Sperandio appears to be entering the most compelling phase of his career.
The theme of this particular March dinner was black truffle—the final specimens of the season. The kitchen prepared a special menu to celebrate them, and we deliberately refrained from influencing the chef’s choices. Only one request emerged from the table: perhaps a langoustine could be included. The kitchen graciously accommodated the idea, and it would prove to be one of the evening’s most memorable courses.
Amuse-Bouches
The meal began with a series of amuse-bouches that have become something of a signature at Le Taillevent: frog legs, gougères, terrine de campagne, and crab served on crisp multigrain crackers.
Frog Legs
The frog legs arrived lightly sautéed in butter, accompanied by a smoky and gently acidic sauce made with aji ponca from Peru. Gougères followed—warm, airy, and delicately crisp—revealing rich Comté cheese within their hollow interiors. Even these small opening bites demonstrated the kitchen’s devotion to precision.
Bread came courtesy of baker Frédéric Lalos, a recipient of the prestigious Meilleur Ouvrier de France title. Long fermentation gave the loaves extraordinary depth of flavor. More than once during the meal, slices of that bread found themselves pressed enthusiastically against plates to capture the sauces left behind.
Sea Bass Tartare
The first formal course was a sea bass tartare topped generously with Fleuve Amour caviar from China. The grains were medium-sized, their marine character balanced and restrained. Pistachios added crunch, while edible flowers brought a touch of brightness. It was a composed opening – fresh, saline, and quietly elegant.
Saint-Jacques (scallop)
A scallop course followed, accompanied by Colonnata lard and black truffle. The centerpiece of the dish was a remarkable sabayon coquillage. Pure, expressive, and technically flawless, the sauce elevated the entire composition. Crispy chickpeas added texture, while accompanying side plates explored further variations with scallop, truffle, vanilla vinegar, and turmeric.
Langoustine
A Normandy langoustine – added at our request – became one of the meal’s defining moments. The langoustine itself was extraordinary – sweet, pristine, and intensely fresh. Alongside it came a gratin of shellfish and Swiss chard that created a deeply comforting flavor.
The shellfish was served with what the kitchen called “forgotten vegetables”: Jerusalem artichoke, celeriac, salsify, and crosnes. The pairing explored the dialogue between land and sea in a way that felt thoughtful rather than predictable.
Vol-au vent
Next came a classic: vol-au-vent with morels, truffle, and sweetbread, a dish whose lineage traces back to the great chef Marie-Antoine Carême.
Pigeon
The main course presented pigeon with Roquefort sauce, accompanied by a preparation using the bird’s internal organs and fresh asparagus that brought brightness to the plate. A truffle and Comté-filled croque-monsieur completed the composition.
The pigeon was cooked precisely, retaining its juices and natural richness.
Though excellent, I recalled that the portion during a previous visit had been slightly larger and the meat marginally superior.
Crêpe Suzette
A coconut emulsion served as a palate cleanser before dessert—delicately scented with citrus and perfectly measured in its restraint.
Crêpe Suzette followed, and here Le Taillevent remains something of a benchmark. While the dessert may appear simple, its balance of caramelized sugar, citrus acidity, and faint bitterness requires real finesse. I have yet to encounter a version in France that surpasses it.
Chocolate Tart
Then came the evening’s quiet revelation. An unassuming chocolate tart arrived at the table. At first glance it seemed modest—almost plain. Then the first spoonful was taken.
Made with cocoa from Vietnam, a whisper of sea salt, and a remarkably thin crisp base, the dessert concealed a warm ganache of extraordinary depth.
Our 3 Wines
At Taillevent, the wine selection is exceptional, filled with bottles of old millesimes. We usually begin our meals with Champagne, but this time, the richness of the wine list encouraged us to take a different approach. Together with the chef, we selected 3 wines that would best match each dish.
Guffens-Heynen: Mâcon-Pierreclos le Chavigne 2014
Jean-Marie Guffens-Heynen, based in Pierreclos in the Mâconnais has played a major role in the region, with his precise approach to winemaking – low yields and a focus on achieving full ripeness.
The 2014 millesime in Burgundy was not an easy one. Hailstorms hit Côte de Beaune, especially Puligny and Mersault. Fortunately, the Mâconnais was less affected. This wine offered a beautiful balance: fresh acidity, tension and flavors of citrus, white flowers and a touch of minerality. It paired very well with amuse bouches and starters.
I have always enjoyed old millesimes of Jean-Marie Guffens-Heynen (drank 2009 during my last visit at Taillevent), and even more so now, as his daughter is gradually taking over while he remains closely involved. I also recently heard from his neighbor that he owns vines in Barsac, which makes me curious to discover this side of their work in the future.
Jacques Puffeney: Vin jaune 2003
Jacques-Puffeney is widely considered as one of the great figures of the Jura, a true pionner such as Pierre Overnoy. Now retired, he has passed on his domaine to Guillaume d’Angerville, who continues the work under Domaine du Pélican, owner at the same time of the Domaine Marquis d’Angerville in Volnay.
Because of this, bottles from Jacques Puffeney have become increasingly rare and rarer still when offered at a fair price, especially for older vintages like the one we enjoyed (2003).
This vin jaune with evolution had beautifully absorbed its acidity. It integrated perfectly with the dish rather than dominate it. Paired with the langoustine, it revealed notes of walnut, chamomile, acacia and an everlasting and refined finish.
While oxydative wines are not the most obvious match for seafood, those familiar with Andalusia Spain, especially Jerez, will immediately understand the harmony.
Jean-Louis Chave: Clos Florentin 2017
The Clos Florentin 2017 offers fascinating perspective on Saint-Joseph. The Chave family acquired these vines in 2009, in the village of Mauves. This is in fact the only clos in Saint-Joseph – a walled wineyard by definition enclosed which tends to create a protected microclimate and a true expression of the terroir.
Yet, this cuvée stands apart in terms of style from the Chave classical Saint-Joseph, offering a wine that is silky, infused and elegant with ripe black fruit notes such as cassis, plum and blackberry.
The 2017 millesime offered a harmonious wine, generous but controlled. We truly enjoyed this wine with the pigeon.
Conclusion
When we look back on this dinner, which we shared together at the same table, what stays with us is not one particular dish or one particular wine, but the feeling that everything made sense from the beginning to the end. Each of us came with a different lens, memory by Vedat, dishes by Fahri and wines by Julien. We each experienced it in our own way – but in the end, we all felt the same emotion.
There is something very reassuring in the way Chef Giuliano Sperandio expresses himself today. The cuisine is precise, but never rigid. The cuisine is generous, yet always controlled. It respects the chef foundations with thoughtful evolutions. The dishes follow one another naturally, the wines extend them without taking over, and the service brings everything together that makes the whole experience feel effortless.
What makes this place special is not a single standout moment. It is the harmony that we found in each dish – deeply satisfying and built on a series of small details that, together, create something lasting.
By the end, what remains is our clear impression: a place that knows what it is doing and does it with consistency, clarity and a sense of ease that is increasingly rare.
Thank you chef!
It gave me pleasure to read this. I only ate at Le Taiilevent once. It was for lunch, during Legendre’s time. I still remember the lamb and the chocolate tarte as the most enjoyable of their kind I have ever eaten. M. Vrinat’s welcome made us feel like cherished members of an exclusive club, even though we had only just met him. The waiter too made us feel like old friends. After the meal, he poured us, unrequested, glasses of cognac. “It’s cold outside,” he explained. We said we shouldn’t drink it because were driving that afternoon to Holland. “It’s VERY cold there,” he said and doubled his pours. I have to eat there again ASAP, after reading your review.