Darkness Below

It’s important, we decide, to visit a Michelin two-star restaurant while we are still in Paris, to help us try to understand the differences, to try to fathom what it is that the Michelin inspectors see.

Downstairs at Le Publicis Drugstore on Champs-Elysées, about as close as you can get to the Arc de Triomphe, is where we find L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon. I didn’t realize that the restaurant doesn’t have a separate street entrance, you can only get to it from inside the Drugstore. We’ve eaten at Robuchon’s L’Atelier before, years ago, though at the other location in Paris, near Saint-Germain.

The spiral staircase leading to the restaurant is decorated with a panel of mirrors reflecting black, for the restaurant is decorated mainly in dark tones. Black walls with mirrors, a black counter where we will sit. Even the staff is dressed in black. Against the darkness are red accents and dark wood paneling. White highlights are provided by menus, placemats, plates, wine bottle labels.

There are no tables in the restaurant, but stools placed along an extended U-shaped counter. The open kitchen is inside the U; diners can watch the dishes being prepared. We follow the host and are seated in a corner where the counter runs into a pillar panelled in black mirror tiles. We order champagne; they serve us Veuve Cliquot by the glass, poured from a magnum.

As we settle down to our entrées — ravioli filled with pied de veau on a bed of girolles, and lobster soup infused with fresh ginger — two Asian women take the empty seats next to us. They are speaking English. One orders a starter of foie gras with cherries and the other orders the multi-course tasting menu meant for one.

“How are you enjoying the meal?” one of the women asks.

We share the usual banter. They are from California; they are twin sisters. One works in Orange County in administration and the other works in the service industry in Telluride, Colorado. “I’m a waitress,” she smiles.

Their parents are from Taiwan, moving to the US when the girls were 5 years old. Quickly adapted themselves to the new culture they became model immigrants. The sisters have three older brothers: one is a dentist, one is a doctor and one is an accountant. But the girls have always been the rebels in the family: no husbands, no children. They are bright, curious and articulate.

They hadn’t planned on dining here, but the night before Angie had been researching Michelin-starred restaurants to plan their next splurge in Paris.

“It was happenstance,” she says. She’s a food lover and knew the name of Joël Robuchon and had heard a little about his restaurants, so when she came across L’Atelier in her searching, she made reservations.

I assume the sisters are just enjoying a Paris getaway when Annie, the other twin, reveals, “The reason we’re here is because I have terminal cancer.”

Whammy.

“Our dad died of the same cancer last year, now our mother has it and now me. I guess you can say it runs in the family,” Annie gives an ironic chuckle. “They estimated I had 20 months to live and that was a year ago. While I was here in Paris my doctor called to tell me that I have over 100 tumours in me. There’s no surgery possible, no hope.”

The irony is this: Annie has been squirrelling away money since she started working. “My goal was to retire at age 40,” she chokes back the tears. The twins will turn 40 next year.

“But I’m happy knowing that my sister will inherit my retirement savings and won’t ever have to worry about money,” Annie looks tenderly at her twin.

Paris is that sort of city. It’s the place you come to when you’ve only got a handful of months left on this earth. It’s the city you turn to when each day is precious.

“We try not to think about it, we just want to enjoy Paris and to be together.”

In between this surprising, unnerving account we continue with our the first two-star experience of the trip. The meal is stellar, each plate is a triumph and we begin to get the first inklings of the difference between one star and two stars. We thoroughly enjoy our entrées, plats, desserts and the company of our new friends, although there is a darkness about. A darkness deeper than the black tones of the restaurant.