The view from the top

What makes a great restaurant one of the best? It’s a question that often gets asked and one that has been the subject of many an op-ed — and, to be honest, it’s one with as many answers as there are derivatives of Blumenthal’s meat fruit (of which there have been far too many).

Bruno Verjus, the French food writer turned chef, delivers a flawless culinary experience at his Parisian restaurant, earning him the no. 3 position on the World’s 50 Best Restaurant Award list. So, why is Table one of the best?

Well, it’s not a simple matter. Rather, in this instance, it is the intangible thread that runs through the whole experience, that je ne sais quoi, if you will. First and foremost, it’s the chef, the inimitable Verjus. I meet him, standing outside the restaurant just before service begins, welcoming guests as though they are long-lost friends.

It’s the design, the hole-in-the-wall restaurant with exposed brickwork and a stainless-steel counter wrapped around the pass, blurring the line between kitchen and dining room and inviting guests into the action, with the dishes served by the chefs as they’re completed.

It’s the team, a brigade of immensely talented young chefs led by Verjus, who navigate the pass like trained dancers, plating up and serving guests with quiet confidence and the occasional bit of banter. It’s the sommelier, approachable and knowledgeable, who casually presents the incredible array of pairings, at one point slipping away to jot down the name of a wine I ask about — just that individual, almost intuitive spirit that takes service to the next level.

And then, of course, it’s the food. The food! The one-of-a-kind tasting menu changes daily. Verjus’s relationship with his network of small-scale suppliers ensures that they deliver quality, not quantity, and so the menus are designed around what gets delivered on a given day. It’s clean, classic cooking that merges traditional techniques with a modern ethos and buckets of flavour.

Verjus is all about nourishment — not the green juice, super fruits, and obscure ancient grains that have become associated with the word, but wholesome, beautiful food, richly flavour-ful ingredients, and the best produce, delivered with fine, unfussy technique. These are dishes that nourish the soul, the mind, and the palate.

There’s the glorious seaweed-poached green asparagus served with a generous spoonful of caviar, meant to be picked up by its bay-leaf-wrapped base and dipped into the light herb-and-seaweed moussayon. The subtle crunch of the asparagus, the salty pops of caviar, and the freshness of the herbed sauce all come together in perfect unison.

The lobster is equally outstanding, the delicate meat gently sautéed in clarified butter and paired with earthy artichoke and a tart nettle-and-caper remoulade. It’s a dish that walks the line between elegance and opulence, sweet and bitter, generosity and restraint. I could wax poetic about every item on the menu, from the colours of the day with which this incredible production begins to the beautiful cut of turbot sitting on a glimmering shellfish-and-veal reduction, and the famous chocolate tart that brings the meal to a close, the creamy, dark-chocolate filling infused with salty capers and topped with Oscietra caviar.

The dishes are deceptively simple and the menu is only presented after dinner in the form of a poem, of sorts. This is one of those rare dining experiences that maintains an effortless strength from start to finish. It’s simply brilliant, no-nonsense cooking, using the very best ingredients and served in a beautiful space with a spectacular ambience, accompanied by exceptional and unpretentious service. I guess that’s what, in this instance at least, makes for a “best” restaurant. I, for one, could not be happier. 3 Rue de Prague, 75012, Paris, table.paris

• From the August edition of Wanted, 2024.