SAGAN

SAGAN | PARIS

Here it’s more “Hello jubilation” than “Hello sadness” since Sagan simply means “left bank” in Japanese! And this small, classy restaurant with monastic calm (exposed stone, dark cherry counter, old copper luggage rack) where Katsutoshi Kondo (formerly Beige) officiates, has more to do with Tanizaki and his “In Praise of the Shadow” than the French Riviera. In shadow play, behind a curtain, the undeniable fine blade carved out ecstatic little plates for us that lunchtime: fantastic Padrón peppers in soy sauce with a delicious burnt taste, sprinkled with dried bonito; sea bream carpaccio orbited by an addictive ponzu sauce, ultra-fine radish discs, coriander and purple basil; incredible eggplant grilled with miso, candied to perfection, accompanied by thin strips of fried spring onion and edamame; crispy-meltful fried chicken caramelized with lemon; delicate prawn fritters with sweet chili and cashew nut sauce, interspersed with half-moons of gyoza dough and a few fried rice vermicelli, enhanced with saffron pistils; before a simple green tea ice cream.