Bitter in Monaco: A Three Michelin-Star Dinner That Fell Short

There are restaurants you go to with expectations, and then there are restaurants whose expectations are so high that it is almost impossible to meet them. Le Louis XV, Alain Ducasse in Monaco unquestionably belongs to the second group. With three Michelin stars, an amazing spot inside the iconic Hôtel de Paris Monte-Carlo, and one of the biggest names in the culinary world, this is a restaurant that long ago became a legend. For decades it has been considered one of the great symbols of haute French cuisine, and its name continues to draw food lovers from around the world. I arrived with very high expectations, perhaps too high.

From the very first moment, it is hard not to be impressed. The room, designed in the spirit of the Louis XV era, is without doubt one of the most beautiful dining spaces I have ever seen. Painted ceilings, lavish chandeliers, striking serving ware, and the feeling of a grand French palace in the heart of the Riviera. Even before the first dish arrived, it was clear that the experience here begins long before the food.

The restaurant’s cuisine is based on ingredients from the French Riviera and the Mediterranean, with an almost obsessive emphasis on seasonality, freshness, and precision. The evening began with a Grand Cru Champagne from Suenen, followed by a series of appetizers that clearly reflected the kitchen’s philosophy. A fresh, precise zucchini tartlet, beet with fish that surprisingly reminded me of kubbeh, and a sardine dish served on a disc made from fish bones, as part of the restaurant’s approach to full use of ingredients. Already at this stage, I understood how important presentation is here, no less than taste.

The first course on the menu was lightly seared red mullet served with combava, hazelnuts, and combava leaf oil. A complex, original, and very unexpected combination. After it came one of the best dishes of the evening, artichoke in the style of alla giudea with burrata, caviar, and sea anemone. It was an excellent dish, balanced, precise, elegant, and above all one that managed to justify its status. The bread, olive oil, and butter served alongside the dishes were also exceptional, and reminded me how simple ingredients can become an experience in themselves when executed at the highest level.

But this was also where my problem with the meal began. As I moved through the menu, I felt the kitchen returning again and again to the same direction, bitterness, more bitterness, and then a little more bitterness. It started with the fish dishes, continued through the palate cleansers, and reached even some of the desserts. I fully understand the culinary choice, and it is clearly part of the kitchen’s signature here, but for me it was simply too much.

The sea bass with white asparagus, bergamot, and a broth made from the fish heads was technically very elegant, but for me the bergamot and the bitterness took over the dish. The lamb from the Carsi region in southern France, served with peas, salicornia, and a rich lamb broth, was also disappointing relative to expectations. The sauce was excellent, the flavors were good, but the texture of the meat and fat was chewier and more rubbery than I expect to receive in a restaurant of this level. דווקא there, at the point where I was supposed to get one of the evening’s highlights, I found myself struggling to truly enjoy the dish.

To the restaurant’s credit, they did not ignore the criticism. The moment I expressed reservations about the dish, the staff immediately went out of their way to understand what had worked less well for me and even sent out an additional dish that was not part of the menu. It was a Topinambour dish, Jerusalem artichoke cooked like a roast, with black truffles, pine nuts, and cacao nibs. A completely vegetarian dish, but with depth and texture that made me briefly think I was eating a meat ragout. Was it an extraordinary dish? Not necessarily. But it wonderfully demonstrated the staff’s genuine desire to make the diner enjoy the meal, and that is something very few restaurants know how to do at this level.

The service here was not just professional, it was exceptional. Throughout the evening I felt they were trying to do everything possible to make the experience successful. From the personal attention, through the explanations of each dish, to the willingness to adapt the experience in real time. Even if the food itself did not always reach the heights I had expected, the hospitality certainly did.

After passing the impressive cheese cart, which was wonderful as expected from a French restaurant of this level, came the strongest part of the meal, the desserts, especially the rhubarb soufflé with Kampot pepper and Sauternes foam, served like a pink cloud and looking almost too beautiful to eat. It was without doubt one of the most impressive desserts I have eaten this year. Not only because of the taste, but especially because of the texture. One of those desserts that stays with you long after the meal is over.

So is this one of the most beautiful, impressive, and iconic restaurants in the world? Absolutely. Is it one of the best service experiences I have had? Definitely yes. But did the food live up to the expectations created by the name, the reputation, and the three Michelin stars? Not completely. And that was perhaps the biggest surprise of that evening in Monaco.

How much does it cost? Full tasting menu, 420 euros per person. With Champagne, wine, water, and herbal infusion, about 500 euros per person. My rating, 7/10.

Hillel Atlan is a lifestyle content creator specializing in reviews of Michelin restaurants and luxury hotels around the world. More content from Hillel on Instagram and TikTok. Did you find a language error?