Chez L’Ami Jean

When you dine at Chez L’Ami Jean, it’s impossible not to develop a crush. If not on Chef Stéphane Jégo, then on the restaurant itself.

Two of the three times I’ve eaten there, I’ve been right near the kitchen, closely watching the chef in all his frenetic edgy glory.

The first time, we also dined under the shadow of several tennis ball-sized truffles. After commenting on their enormity, Chef Jégo generously shaved some onto my friend’s dish. I guess it’s just the kind of guy he is.

While this last visit didn’t include banter with the chef, it did offer some of the best soup you’ll ever have in your life.

 Poured tableside...

The tangy calamari entrée wasn’t so bad either.

 For my plat, I had beautiful pink and tender duck.

But I was really just waiting for dessert.

Our neighbors (and best friends for the night—two older couples from the Upper East Side, who were as hip and fun and funny as you could ever hope to be seated so closely with), ordered the Paris Brest. I know from past experience that it’s a sublimely decadent treat.

But if there is one reason to go to Chez L’Ami Jean—other than Chef Jégo, other than its insane menu, other than the nightly theatrics—it’s for the rice pudding.

A giant creamy bowl is served with sides of salted caramel cream, candied nuts and granola bits, and crunchy meringues, this should be a Parisian landmark.