Like most people living in Paris, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve eaten on Île Saint-Louis. I will visit for an occasional beer on its banks in summer, or when visitors want to embark on a Berthillon pilgrimage (now franchised across half the island). It’s a corner of Paris that looks as good in real life as it does online, but the food has long oscillated between brasseries selling spaghetti bolognese to American tourists and – since Notre-Dame’s reopening brought even more foot traffic – an odd string of brunch cafés with plastic flower wreaths. The alternative, if you’re looking to spend serious money, is to cross off the island to Alliance or La Tour d’Argent.
Cypsèle opened last November, offering something far more ambitious than the faux brasseries on the island, and priced well below the eye-watering options across the water. At the time of writing, Cypsèle’s tasting menu is €85 at lunch and €145 at dinner.
It’s chef-owner Marcin Król’s first restaurant. Born in Poland, he moved to the UK at eight and as a teenager fell for cooking watching Jamie Oliver -unlikely preparation, perhaps, for a stage at Noma at eighteen, where he was kept on after two weeks. Afterwards came a brief, unhappy attempt at studying agriculture in Reading before his career skyrocketed through Boragó in Santiago, Oaxen Krog in Stockholm, Chateaubriand in Paris, Noma again, and three years cooking at Maison under Sota Atsumi. That international trajectory lives on at Cypsèle, where influences from Chateaubriand – small teams and daily-changing menus (a relief, Król has said, after Noma’s test-kitchen rigour) – sit alongside the open-fire cooking he honed at Maison.
I liked how soulful the plates were, how clearly we were eating the food Król wanted to cook
Król’s business partner and sommelier, Quentin Loisel, met him in Chile at Boragó before working at Sat Bains and then Jules Verne, where he was head sommelier for three years. The wine list at Cypsèle is excellent, and Loisel’s knowledge and humour elevated my meal from great to spectacular. Saturday lunch began with an exceptionally beautiful Champagne – Les Grands Champs Meunier by Thierry Fournier – followed by a white Vacqueyras that shed its initial vanilla heft for something more nuanced as the meal went on; next, a red from Arbois, juicy and earthy.
The meal consisted of small, careful movements and details that added up to something greater. I loved the way the Vacqueyras shifted alongside the first few plates: the warm bread made in-house with a rare rice from the Camargue in the south (part of Król’s rigorous sourcing network across the country); a finely balanced bergamot-flavoured broth that was bitter with fennel and explosively floral at the same time; and most of all, the delightful amuse-bouches, especially the Brest oyster covered in blood-orange granita, a memorable mouthful.
Mostly, though, I liked how soulful the plates were, how clearly we were eating the food Król wanted to cook. This showed most strongly in the fish and meat mains. The turbot – a breezy trip to the seaside, doused in house-pressed hazelnut oil and served in a blue-rimmed bowl with periwinkles – was technically excellent, but the lentils underneath were the real toothsome, hazelnutty stars. The quail, cooked on the rotisserie, was both the most delicate and moreish dish of the meal, served with bone-marrow-soaked breadcrumbs and a glossy, sharp radicchio salad, everything coming together with the Vacqueyras in a sophisticated moment.
Brest oyster with blood orange granita
Céleri à la Bocuse
Turbot with hazelnut oil and lentils
The homage to Paul Bocuse (the Lyonnaise “pope of gastronomy”) arrived with a flourish: a small celeriac gutted and topped with a perky pastry lid (céleri à la Bocuse). It looked spectacular but was the only dish that didn’t quite land. The pastry was too dry, and the thin leek broth beneath it too insubstantial; the whole thing cried out for more body.
But we were quickly lifted from the slight malaise. When the pre-dessert arrived, Loisel waved it off lightly as “a bit of fun”, though it was more than that: a pear sorbet topped with sparkling sake, nutty and zingy, a palate cleanser with real pizazz. Dessert proper was even better. Until this lunch, I hadn’t eaten a galette des rois in January and, as I took my first bite, realised Krol’s would likely ruin all galettes to come. Filled with pistachio frangipane and served with a sweet, lactic ice-cream marbled with deep honey and grenadine, it felt lovingly made, comforting but complex. Hats off to them for conquering the challenge of inverted puff pastry with such assurance.
Cypsèle was supposed to open in north-east London. When a landlord pulled out at the last minute, the decision was made instead to open here: Król and Loisel knew the suppliers, the wine was already in place, and both are emphatic that what they’ve achieved on the island wouldn’t have been possible in London on their budget. Not all London influences were left behind, however: housed in a former pharmacy, the restaurant has been refurbished by London-based studio Nice Projects, who have paired seventeenth-century wooden panelling with neon installations inspired, Król says, by the French tabac. It feels homely and cool at the same time, and I imagine it will feel warmer still once the restaurant has been properly dined in.
I am already plotting my return visit. Król’s broad experience has been distilled into something new and sprightly, but also deeply delicious. It’s very exciting that something this good has opened on the island. Many are predicting that change may be afoot – next door, L’Escale has recently rebooted with a new chef and is better than it used to be (I really enjoyed their weekend offering of poulet frites) – but for something exceptional, begin at Cypsèle.
11 rue des Deux Ponts
75004 Paris
France
February 2026
