Paris: May 2023

In the arrondissement with the most vibrant food scene in Paris, chef Sota Atsumi combines the warm ambiance and comfort of home with the precision of Michelin-starred kitchens. The result, with a cuisine drawing from both French and Japanese traditions, is an evolution of bistronomie¹ and the culinary world takes notice.

Now, let’s delve deeper into Sota’s background and how he developed his own cuisine.

Understanding Sota Atsumi

Sota Atsumi was born in Urayasu, near Chiba, Japan. In 2006, at the age of 18, he made a significant move to Lyon. He embarked on his culinary journey at the Tsuji Culinary Institute in Lyon, immersing himself in the foundational knowledge of the craft. However, apprenticing at Maison Troisgros for six months gave Atsumi his first taste of a reputed kitchen’s rigour and dynamism.

After his time in Lyon, Atsumi moved to Paris the following year. There, he dedicated four enriching years under the guidance of Chef Yoshino at Stellas Maris, mastering the art of French gastronomy. His culinary growth continued with a valuable year at L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon. He then transitioned to the role of souschef at Toyo, teaming up with chef Toyomitsu Nakayama.

Paris carved a significant chapter in Atsumi’s life. It was here that he crossed paths with Akiko Otsu, a Japanese art student, in 2007. This fateful encounter profoundly impacted them both personally and creatively. Atsumi and Otsu married in 2013, and their union has since blossomed into a dynamic partnership, with Akiko infusing an artistic flair into Atsumi’s work.

A new chapter began in 2012 when Pierre Jancou offered him the position of head chef at his bistro, Vivant. It was here that Atsumi discovered the beauty of the neo-bistrot² approach, focusing on seasonal produce. Instead of long, predetermined order lists, the menu was crafted daily, influenced by fresh ingredients from local farmers—nature became the dictating force behind the menu.

Le Clown Bar

Two years later, Atsumi moved to the newly reopened Le Clown Bar as head chef. It soon became a popular haunt, with Atsumi’s dishes – French fare infused with unexpected flavours – taking centre stage. In 2015, Atsumi’s culinary prowess at Le Clown Bar was recognised with Le Fooding’s Best Bistrot Award.

Despite his success at Le Clown Bar, Atsumi decided to leave at the end of 2017, seeking a quieter, slightly more refined dining experience. This dream became a reality in 2019 with the opening of his restaurant, Maison, located in the 11th arrondissement. For Atsumi, Maison isn’t merely a restaurant – it’s a reflection of home. It encapsulates his journey, his values, his mastery of French cuisine, his Japanese roots, and an unwavering dedication to ethical sourcing and sustainability.

La Cuisine de Maison

Atsumi has progressively make his mark among the latest wave of Parisian chefs. Triggered by Yves Camdeborde and propelled internationally by figures like Bertrand Grébaut from Septime, this culinary evolution cast aside the traditional attire and ceremonious nature of la grande cuisine française. Embracing a style that’s uniquely personal and unscripted, these chefs are carving a new path. Atsumi’s distinctive approach was shaped during his time at relaxed bistrots such as Vivant and Le Clown Bar. It was here he harmoniously merged the informal allure of bistro dining with some haute cuisine artistry.

Vivant served as a training ground of sorts, where Atsumi was introduced to the virtues of direct sourcing from suppliers and farmers. Le Clown Bar, on the other hand, was where Atsumi continued to hone his craft, while introducing a more relaxed ambiance, fostering a deep sense of familiarity and comfort for diners. Here, the dichotomy of high-end quality and a bistronomie-style menu gave birth to inventive, technically adept dishes that reimagined classic French cuisine, such as his famed duck pithiviers or the Guinea fowl cooked in a croûte de sel.

While conceptualising Maison Sota, Atsumi has woven these diverse threads into a singular narrative. Disenchanted with the increasingly casual trends of modern bistronomie, Maison is a sort of reaction. He sought a serene and elevated ambiance where greater attention could be placed on the food. Using a Hegelian dialectic framework, one could explain this as: Maison appears to be a synthesis of the relaxed vibe of bistronomie and the sophistication of a Michelin-starred restaurant. His wife, Akiko, serves an integral part of this narrative, helping him bridge the gap between dish development and creating the right ambiance for the experience.

Maison’s foundation is built with deep respect for the maraîchers—its cherished producers. Their daily deliveries set the menu’s direction, offering Atsumi a fresh daily canvas to celebrate the season’s best produce. Meanwhile, the wood-fired oven, glowing with beechwood embers, serves as the hearth and heart of the kitchen. Its use extends beyond mere cooking; there is something about essence and purity, a nod to the primal origins of gastronomy. This connection to the elemental force of fire mirrors the approach of Asador Etxebarri, with its presence imbuing every savoury dish with that distinct flavour profile of smoke.

Furthermore, the art of balancing flavours is central to Atsumi’s gastronomic philosophy. He skillfully blends Japanese elegance with the richness of French produce, creating subtle and unique flavour combinations that surprise and delight the palate. He respects the understated quality of the produce and avoids overpowering flavours that would obscure their purity. The result is a style that is modern yet timeless, gastronomical yet simple.

The design, the ambiance and the wine

The design of Maison mirrors Atsumi’s ethos. The restaurant occupies a former warehouse for wine and a repair shop for coffee machines, which Atsumi and Japanese architect Tsuyoshi Tane renovated from scratch. They transformed the space into a loft-style restaurant with two floors: a spacious ground floor (though slightly underused) that serves as an entrance, a cellar and a restroom area, and a mezzanine that hosts the main dining room seating up to forty customers. In the dining room, the focal point is a long wooden table surrounded by hexagonal terracotta tiles that were repurposed from the original building. The tiles add warmth and texture to the space, creating a contrast with the industrial elements. Meanwhile, the open kitchen is located at the back of the room, with a pass that also functions as a bar for up to six guests.

The kitchen is meant to be the hearth and soul of the house, with a large wood-fired oven and a grill dominating the space. This home-like atmosphere is nurtured by his wife Akiko, who provides an artistic touch, sourcing artworks and connecting Atsumi with creative minds like David Lynch, the creator of the whimsical Maison logo. The service is friendly and attentive, enhancing the homely atmosphere. If you sit at the bar facing the kitchen, you can interact directly with the chefs. They will present and explain their dishes in greater detail than the regular service. Ideal for food geeks like us.

Maison Sota’s wine selection is a continuation of Le Clown Bar’s belief in natural and biodynamic wines. Sommelier Takashi Takebayashi has curated a selection that includes the best of France and Austria, featuring respected names like Tschida, Andreas Tscheppe or Werlitsch or Maison Valette, Julien Guillot, Simon Bize, Pacalet, Marnes Blanches, Ganevat, Marguet or La Closerie. The only downside is the hefty markup, which is about 2.5 times the retail price. Among the few bargains available, Naudin-Ferrand stood out as a good value choice.

A Sunday tasting menu

The restaurant offers a four-course lunch menu and a seven-course dinner menu on regular days. But on Sundays, they treat their guests to a longer and more elaborate version of their lunch menu, featuring five or six courses. This was priced at 140€ with a wine pairing of 75€.

We had the privilege of sitting at the bar with a panoramic view of the open kitchen, arguably the best spot in the restaurant. All the dishes are plated on the same plank of wood over which one will be eating.

The menu begins with a series of amuse-bouches, starting with some crudités. Four vegetables, each with its own distinct flavour and texture, are paired with a delicate yogurt foam and an anchovy toast.

The foam, airy and tangy like ayran, likely owes its stability to soy lecithin. A hint of dill oil adds a herbal complexity, foreshadowing the vibrant freshness of the tied greens. These leaves, slightly bitter, conceal a core of fragrant mint, chive and honey that brightens up the bite.

The radish, crisp and peppery, contrasts with the turnip, softer and sweeter. The turnip has been infused with lemon verbena during poaching, giving it a subtle citrus aroma. A sprinkle of flaky salt brings out its earthy sweetness. A carrot, its sweetness accentuated through poaching in a rosemary infusion, provides a further exploration of pure spring flavours. It must be noted that the aromas of rosemary and lemon verbena where barely discernible.

This initial series of amuse-bouches is closed by a toast crisped in oil and topped with a tender mix of sweated vegetables, probably leek, and an anchovy. The excellent anchovy, draped atop this heap of greens, introduces an assertive, briny character.

The second round of amuse-bouches consists of a bowl of spinach and oyster and a serving of tuna sashimi. The former featured an emulsion of oysters and butter, yielding a velvety cream. Here, the oysters’ natural brininess shines through, subtly enhanced by the richness of the butter. Grilled spinach, treated gently with dashi and clarified butter, rests upon this cream. The result is a pure, unadulterated spinach flavour. The dashi subtly underpins the dish, lending a whisper of umami that is hinted more than tasted.

Here we were served the first glass of our wine pairing, a Alexandre Bain L. d’Ange from Pouilly-Fumé. The combination of the oyster cream with the aromatic Sauvignon was good. This wine had hints of botrytis honey, a full body and a noticeable saline touch, echoing the brininess of the oysters and the richness of the butter.

The tuna sashimi offered two different cuts, one from the belly and the other much leaner. Each cut displayed its unique texture and flavour, both excellent and fresh. They were served with a quenelle of crème fraîche, soy sauce and a butternut shoyu, a sauce that deserves applause in itself. The shoyu displayed impressive caramel tones, providing a pleasant sweetness that complemented the inherent umami of the soy sauce and the tuna.

Passing from the amuse-bouches to the starters, we were presented with a slice of their homemade bread and salted Bordier butter. This French lean bread, with some chestnut flour, offers a delightful nuttiness. Its crisp crust echoes the smoky whispers of the wood oven, the crumb beautifully risen and airy.

Greeted by the vibrant hues of spring, Asperges vertes, sauce orties et ail des ours certainly provided a tantalizing play of colours and flavours. The asparagus, a perennial symbol of the season, were expertly grilled and presented alongside a duo of sauces that added both depth and brightness to the dish. The first, an orange yolk sauce, spoke to the timeless pairing of egg and asparagus, a nod to the classic asparagus mimosa, its richness laying a solid foundation for the asparagus to shine.

The second sauce, a lively blend of stinging nettle and wild garlic, painted the plate with its bright green colour and added a layer of complexity with its good acidity, a counterpoint to the creaminess of the yolk sauce. The asparagus itself was cooked to perfection – a delicate balance between tenderness and crunch. A scatter of yellow flowers served as the final touch, providing a visual pop.

Truite fumée, chou-fleur avec raifort – Smoked trout, cauliflower with horseradish – is a dish that speaks to the subtlety of flavour and textures. The trout, smoked over the grill with a delicate touch, is superbly tender, its flavour gently permeated with smoke. This is not a dish where smoke bellows; instead, it whispers, refusing to overshadow the trout’s natural flavour profile.

The cauliflower purée serves as a beautiful, velvety backdrop, its subdued sweetness offering an agreeable partnership with the trout. A frothy emulsion of radish, delivering a light spicy zing, elevates the composition, providing just enough kick without overpowering. Thinly sliced cauliflower, prepared with a mandoline and adorned with koji and lemon zest, adds an interesting textural counterpoint as well as a layer of umami complexity.

The pairing with the Domaine Lajibe Serres-Seques 2020 from Jurançon is refreshing. Its full body, high alcohol content, and a distinctive acidic character, marked by peach, saline and lime notes, provide a harmonious counterbalance to the dish.

The final starter probably drew its inspiration from Pascal Barbot‘s renowned Millefeuille champignons de Paris et foie gras frais, in this case presenting raw foie gras layered delicately between multiple crêpes – thus, Mille crêpe au foie gras. Each layer of this millefeuille concealed a unique filling: a julienne of Swiss chard, rich foie gras, salty anchovies, and the subtly sweet hint of parmigiano. The topmost crêpe is lightly caramelised, providing a gentle crunch that contrasts with the softer layers beneath. The layers harmonised beautifully, each ingredient enhancing the others, creating a symphony of flavour that intensified with each bite. Accompanying the millefeuille was a creamy sauce imbued with the nutty essence of hazelnut praline, a touch that adds another layer of depth and matches well with the foie gras.

Its pairing, Olivier Carl – Barbe Jaune Gewürztraminer exuded aromas of ripe peach and lychee, with an undercurrent of honey that marries well with the foie gras. While the wine was dry and robust in alcohol, we would have like a tad more residual sugar, to further complement the dish’s rich flavours.

Honouring the purity and simplicity of its ingredients, Turbot, champignons de Paris et sauce savagnin played with subtle flavours. It began with a delicately grilled fillet of turbot, its nacré cuisson causing the fish to fall apart with an effortless grace. Topping the turbot were finely mandolined slices of mushrooms, cooked in a wood oven to achieve a delicious caramelisation that brought an earthy sweetness, punctuated by the unexpected crunch of walnuts. The Savagnin sauce added an intriguing dimension with its acidity providing a smooth counterpoint to the dish. While the sauce’s runniness could be perceived as a minor flaw, a spoon would have been a better way enjoy it.

To accompany, a glass of Chardonnay from Renaud Boyer’s Saint Romain. Its crisp, full-bodied character harmonized with the earthy, caramelised mushrooms. However, its nose of artichokes and oxidised yellow apples was a surprise.

As the evening reached its zenith, we were presented with the final main course, a seemingly humble yet beguilingly complex dish: the Pintade en croûte de sel, or Salt-baked Guinea fowl. A homage to the theatrical service of yesteryears was paid with the Guinea fowl, first shown to the guests in its own salt crust- an embodiment of old-world charm against the backdrop of this otherwise contemporary restaurant. With the salt crust acting as both a seasoning and a heat conductor, the guinea fowl was roasted to perfection. The thigh meat, red and tender, melded beautifully with the succulent breast, whose skin was caramelised on the grill, offering a textural contrast and adding a layer of depth to the fowl’s natural flavours. The result was rich, robust, and incredibly satisfying. It was, in our opinion, a superb demonstration of the art of poultry cooking.

Accompanying the guinea fowl were wood oven-baked white asparagus, bringing an earthy sweetness that offset the meat’s intensity, and a well-placed quenelle of anchovy, parsley and chive, its vinegar notes cutting through the richness and providing a tangy counterpoint. The sauce Albuféra, a traditional French white sauce, was an unassuming presence, simply enhancing the core elements of the dish rather than asserting itself.

A glass of Chèrouche Cocagne Echert 2020, a Swiss blend of Pinot Noir and Gamay, was served alongside. Though perhaps a touch too simple, the wine’s high acidity, notes of red cherry and its soft tannins offered an agreeable pairing, allowing the flavours of the dish to take centre stage.

The selection of fromages is a tribute to the rich variety of French cheese-making traditions, reaffirming the timeless wisdom: when in France, always order the cheese platter. Each delicately thin slice, whether it be the subtly sweet Mimolette, the robustly aged Comté of 30 months, the tangy chèvre, the earthy St Nectaire, or the pungent Fourme d’Ambert, provided great joy. The cheeses are accompanied by an array of condiments – honey, dried figs, hazelnuts and peach confiture.

Our culinary journey drew to a close with the Gâteau au chocolat et glace à la marjolaine – a chocolate cake served with marjoram ice cream. The cake, showcasing a light, airy texture, was an exercise in balance and restraint. Achieving its loftiness likely through the incorporation of a meringue or whipped cream, its moderate chocolate flavour was neither overwhelming nor overly rich.

The accompanying marjoram ice cream was a delightful surprise, its herbaceous notes melding seamlessly with the chocolate. The ice cream was enveloped in a vanilla emulsion and accented with a drizzle of basil oil, which added an extra layer of complexity. These herbal elements worked to subtly enhance the sweetness of the dessert, ensuring a harmonious pairing with the chocolate. A caramel tuile, wafer-thin and adding a pleasing crunch, was the final component of this well-orchestrated dessert.

A final succession of treats, the mignardises, ensued. It started with a kiwi sorbet, served in a hollowed-out kiwi that had been repurposed into an edible cup. The sorbet was excellent, serving as an unexpected palate cleanser. Even if the meal was devoid of any heavy or overbearing flavours.

The following act was a pair of candied strawberries. The fruits were at an impeccable level of ripeness, each enrobed in an ethereal layer of caramel. This elaboration brought back fond memories of superb cherries from the dessert trolley at the Celler de Can Roca. Further, the strawberries were accompanied by a vibrant strawberry coulis, a dollop of crème fraîche, and a scattering of thyme leaves. Finally, a financier with Chantilly cream closed the set. It delivered a few satisfying bites, but perhaps it failed to impress or match the high bar set by the previous servings.

Footnotes

1. A culinary movement in France that combines the relaxed atmosphere and affordability of bistros with high-quality, innovative gastronomy.
2. A type of restaurant that emerged in Paris in the early 21st century, characterized by a focus on high-quality, often locally sourced ingredients, prepared using classic and modern techniques in a casual bistro-like setting.