Plénitude had long been on my list of must-visit restaurants, a beacon of refined culinary artistry I had yet to experience. When a spontaneous trip to France materialized, I set out to enjoy a mix of Parisian delights, from the sophisticated charm of L'Assiette Champenoise (Tinqueux) to the unassuming elegance of Granite, Benoit, Alan Geaam, and Septime—all markedly more casual by design. Securing a table at Plénitude, however, required a miracle. Through the means of Alexander the Guest, I managed to claim a reservation from an acquaintance of his, aligning perfectly with my one free evening: December 10th. It seemed almost fated, a start to what I hoped would be an unforgettable culinary experience.

Plénitude is set within the Cheval Blanc Hotel (LVMH), a building with a fascinating history. Originally the famous La Samaritaine department store, the site underwent a transformation and reopened in 2021 as a luxury hotel overlooking the Seine. The blend of old-world charm and modern elegance makes Cheval Blanc a special place, and Plénitude is at its heart. Led by Chef Arnaud Donckele, whose work at La Vague d’Or in Saint-Tropez earned him three Michelin stars, the restaurant focuses on a philosophy of deep, meaningful flavors. Donckele’s approach to sauces and storytelling comes through in every dish, creating a dining experience that reflects both the history of the space and the innovation it now represents.

Entering the Cheval Blanc Paris, we were greeted with the kind of warmth and professionalism you’d expect from a luxury hotel. Polite and attentive staff welcomed us and guided us seamlessly to our destination. With some time before our reservation, we decided to start the evening with a cocktail at Langosteria, one of the hotel’s offerings located on the 7th floor. Offering an extraordinary view of the Seine, it was the perfect setting to unwind. I couldn’t resist indulging in a glass of Krug 171ème Édition (65 €)—a touch higher than at its source but worth every sip for the ambiance and experience. It was a perfect start to the evening.

As the time for our reservation approached, we made our way to Plénitude, the centerpiece of our night. The staff greeted us with genuine enthusiasm, their delight setting an elevated tone for the experience. After being shown to our table, we were treated to a brief tour that included the wine cellar and a glimpse of the chef’s table, both of which showcased the meticulous attention to detail that defines the restaurant.

When we finally settled in, we were handed an extensive wine list—one of the most impressive I’ve ever encountered. It featured an array of vintage champagnes, Pétrus, Krug, DRC, Dom Pérignon, and wines dating back to the 19th century. My eyes immediately caught the 2006 Dom Pérignon P2 by the glass (90 €), a rare find and an enticing option. Along with the wine list, the menu was presented, offering two dining choices: the Symphony menu (480 €) and the à la carte Sail Away Together menu (445 €). Wine pairings included the Emotions (195 €) and the Timeless Icones (495 €). We chose the Symphony menu, pairing it with both the Emotions and Timeless Icons pairings, intending to share and compare the wines. Additionally, we ordered a savory main course from the à la carte menu, which I’ll delve into later.

And so, the culinary journey began. The first delights to arrive were three snacks, each distinct in its presentation and flavor profile. These small bites served as an intriguing introduction to the meal, showcasing the chef’s creativity and setting the tone for what was to come. Unfortunately, these were the only dishes of the night I didn’t jot detailed notes on, aside from assigning them an overall score. I do remember the snack in the oyster shell was a champagne foam with some form of citrus gelatin. (8.6 /10)

The bread course at Plénitude was nothing short of exceptional. From the very first bite, it was clear this was no ordinary bread. The crumb was perfect—soft, airy, and with just the right amount of chew—making it some of the best I’ve ever had. Throughout the evening, a secondary bread basket would reappear, each time offering a selection so remarkable it was almost hard to believe. The standout for me was the dark olive bread, a flavor so nuanced and rich it left a lasting impression. As for the butter, it was a marvel in itself. Sourced from Normandy, its vibrant yellow color hinted at the richness beyond what I thought possible. It was, without question, one of the finest butters I’ve ever tasted. (9.5 /10)

The first course fell short of expectations, despite its intriguing concept. A blue lobster, crab, and yuzu creation. The "Pampelonne-Rose" vinaigrette, made with blue lobster essence, hassaku and tangelo juice, ginger, citrus basil, grilled lobster claw oil, Bouteillan olive oil, grapefruit zest, and timut pepper, was unfortunately too fishy and overly acidic, overpowering the dish rather than enhancing it. The lobster component, while adequate, didn’t offer anything particularly memorable or special. However, the accompanying vegetable was a surprising highlight—bursting with flavor and adding a touch of balance to an otherwise underwhelming dish. (7.7 /10)

One downside to the wine pairings was the lack of a detailed menu to reference during the meal. While I’ll provide a list of most of the wines included in each pairing, the absence of this information during the experience did detract slightly from the overall flow.

The next course was one I had been eagerly anticipating—a dish centered around the sardine, an ingredient that, while humble, was elevated to a truly remarkable level. The sardine itself was unforgettable, with layers of rich, nuanced flavor that reflected both the ingredient’s essence and the chef’s deft touch. This depth was mirrored and amplified by the accompanying sauce, a complex creation imbued with subtle smokiness from the grilled sardine base, a delicate tang from vinegars, and aromatic warmth from fennel and allspice. Every element worked in harmony, with the sauce enhancing and deepening the sardine’s profile without overpowering it. My dining companion was so impressed he drank every last drop.

That said, the presentation left something to be desired. Compared to other renditions of the same dish I’ve seen, this plating felt lacking in artistry and almost lazily put together. As one of the chef’s signature dishes, it should have stood out as the most beautifully plated course of the evening. While this didn’t detract from the incredible flavors, it was a missed opportunity to elevate the dish to perfection. (9.0 /10)

The third course was visually striking, featuring an langoustine that was as tender as it was pristine. Its quality was undeniable—cooked to perfection, the flesh practically melted with each bite, showcasing the ingredient’s natural sweetness. The accompanying sauce, a complex sabayon known as “Buisson Divin,” was a masterclass in balance. The deep richness of the langoustine consommé and toasted claw butter melded seamlessly with the subtle floral notes, citrus maceration, and a hint of acidity from the flowering vinegar and Chardonnay-infused marinade. It was bold yet elegant, layering flavors in a way that highlighted the langoustine’s delicate profile without overpowering it.

However, while the langoustine and sauce were stars in their own right, the accompanying elements of the dish felt somewhat misplaced. Rather than complementing the central flavors, they introduced distractions that disrupted the overall harmony. (9.2 /10)

As expected in a setting of this caliber, caviar finally made its appearance, and it did not disappoint. This dish centered one of freshest scallops I’ve had, its sweetness perfectly complemented by a generous serving of caviar. The foam reduction was an incredible addition—light, velvety, and deeply flavorful, it elevated the dish into something truly memorable.

The accompanying Bouillon "Aloyse" was a marvel of complexity. Each ingredient—fish stock, lemon balm, abalone juice, brown butter, and furio wine vinegar—added a distinct note, creating a sauce that felt both intricate and harmonious. The interplay of the lemon’s brightness, the richness of the brown butter, and the subtle tang of the wine vinegar brought balance and depth, enhancing the scallop without overshadowing its delicate flavor. The care in sourcing and the finest ingredients was evident (8.6 /10)

For the next course, we were invited to an adjoining room near the kitchen, an unexpected yet delightful shift in the evening’s flow. While Chef Arnaud Donckele was not present to make an appearance, the front-of-house manager more than made up for it with his impeccable hosting skills—arguably one of the finest I’ve encountered in this role. He introduced us to their take on Le Trou Normand, a classic French culinary tradition of serving Calvados, a local apple brandy, as a palate cleanser. Here, it was reimagined as a sorbet paired with an apple cider granita, it was the embodiment of the holiday season.

Sitting in this space, speaking with the passionate staff, felt like being part of a finely tuned symphony, they wanted to be there as much as we did. Every movement seemed perfectly orchestrated, a testament to the team’s cohesion and dedication. It was a moment of quiet brilliance in the evening. (8.5 /10)

With the arrival of the savory courses, we were presented with poultry accompanied by viroflay and pomme moelleuse. While I personally enjoyed this dish more than my dining companion, I couldn’t entirely disagree with his critique: it leaned heavily on tradition, feeling like a safe choice for a main course in such an ambitious setting. The poultry itself, however, was masterfully executed—perfectly cooked with crispy skin and a touch of shaved truffle that added an earthy elegance. The viroflay, on the other hand, didn’t resonate with me as much, feeling more like an unnecessary component. The plating reflected a more rustic aesthetic, which I suspect was intentional, nodding to the humble roots of the dish.

What elevated this course for me was the sauce, Poulette "D'Y." Its ingredients sounded almost outlandish—saffron chicken broth, Yquem wine maceration, lemongrass infusion, tangerine olive oil, and more—but the result was nothing short of extraordinary. The depth and balance of flavors, with a hint of brightness from the citrus and subtle warmth from the rosemary and Penja pepper, paired beautifully with the poultry. Combined with the accompanying jus, it created a dish that, while perhaps a touch too grounded for this setting, worked wonderfully for me. (8.8 /10)

Sadly I have no detailed notes on this dish, regardless; feeling that the main savory course had played it a bit too safe, we decided to request an additional course—a bold request that our server greeted with a smile before heading to the kitchen. She returned with good news: the chef was happy to oblige (It’s worth noting that such an impromptu addition comes with a steep price at a restaurant like this, but it was a decision we wouldn’t regret).

What arrived was a sweetbread dish that bordered on perfection. The sweetbreads were masterfully prepared, with a crispy, golden exterior that gave way to a creamy, tender interior, subtly sweet and utterly satisfying. It was easily one of the best renditions of sweetbreads I’ve had. The accompanying sauce was equally impressive—rich and flavorful, it begged to be mopped up with the remaining bread from our table. This course, unplanned as it was, turned out to be one of the highlights of the evening. (9.8 /10)

What finer way to cap off one of the most exquisite dining experiences in France than with a hidden room, revealed by the sliding of a wall, showcasing an array of the finest cheeses imaginable? I was utterly enamored by the display and, unfortunately, too engrossed to write down the exact cheeses I selected. But the offerings were nothing short of extraordinary—ash-covered varieties, goat cheeses, creamy Bries, Mimolette, Camembert—the list seemed endless. Accompanying the cheeses were a dazzling selection of jams, honeys, yogurts, and nuts, each chosen to elevate the tasting experience further. It was an unforgettable moment, made even more special by the option to select your china for the occasion, each piece as elegant as the course itself.

Our server shared that when the fine china breaks, it’s repaired by a kintsugi expert, a detail so poetic I couldn’t help but joke about creating my own “masterpiece.” While I’m unsure if the joke landed as intended, her polite smile suggested a quiet appreciation. The course also included a simple salad, which, while pleasant, paled in comparison to the grandeur of the cheese selection. Without hesitation, I can say this was the finest cheese course I have ever experienced. (10 /10).

The meal concluded with a dessert that was as much a visual masterpiece as it was a culinary one: the Kaolin de Jade. Featuring varieties of Adour kiwi and agastache, it was served with a sauce, the Sauce Pectinée "Agavos Deliciosa." This sauce was a delicate concentration of kiwi and agastache, accented with ginger infusion, fresh water, and plankton oil—an unexpected yet harmonious blend that approached perfection.

While the flavors were refined and beautifully layered, the dish wasn’t without its flaws. The meringue, had a texture that felt too aggressive for the dish’s otherwise subtle and delicate composition. It reminded me of Core’s Classic Pear and Verbena signature dessert, but with even more finesse, beauty, and flavor. Paired with a 2018 Château d’Yquem, the dessert ended the evening on an elegant note. While my companion found the pairing slightly discordant, I thought the wine’s richness and the dessert’s brightness worked together splendidly. (8.8 /10)

As the meal drew to a close, the petit fours arrived with a touch of whimsy. Presented alongside a stunning pop-up book depicting the River Seine, the selection included an elegant ice cream and a tartlette, each as delightful in flavor as they were in presentation. Feeling adventurous, we decided to inquire with the sommelier about any rare digestifs they might have tucked away. To our delight, he returned with a selection that exceeded all expectations. Among them were a crème de cacao from the 1980s and a Italian grappa dating back to the 1930s—each sip a journey into the past, steeped in history and craftsmanship. It was a breathtaking finale to an already extraordinary evening, leaving us in awe of the artistry and care that defined every aspect of this dining experience. (9.0 /10)

As the evening came to an end, it was impossible not to reflect on the brilliance of the experience. Every element—service, ambiance, and cuisine—worked in harmony, leaving us floating on cloud nine. The staff’s attentiveness and warmth were exceptional, making us feel both welcomed and utterly pampered. The ambiance, with its balance of understated luxury and artistic flair, provided the ideal backdrop for the culinary magic unfolding before us. And, of course, the food—each dish a testament to the expertise and vision of the kitchen. Plénitude is not just a restaurant; it’s a symphony of hospitality, art, and culinary mastery.

That said, it wasn’t without its flaws. Securing a reservation is notoriously difficult, often requiring bookings a year in advance or the luck of a connection. For all the luxury and indulgence, the value for money doesn’t rank high, especially considering some minor missteps, like the slightly underwhelming first lobster course. At times, the pacing felt rushed, despite the dinner spanning an impressive seven hours. These small hiccups, while worth noting, didn’t overshadow the overall magic of the experience.

As a final touch, we were presented with a beautiful take-home pastry that encapsulated the same level of thoughtfulness and detail as the meal itself. A eye-catching creation with an intricate presentation, it featured a luscious rice pudding filling with notes of rich chocolate. This small yet exquisite gift was a perfect parting note, allowing the magic of the evening to linger just a little longer. From start to finish, Plénitude remains one of the finest dining experiences I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying.