If you are looking for restaurant suitable for a first date, or even a laid-back dinner with friends, then La Classe is for you. A little cheeky and playful it strikes the perfect note for a place of casual yet refined conversation.  The schoolroom decoration and overarching theme of the restaurant keeps the conversation childish and amusing, meanwhile the elegant menu adds a mature background to the experience.

The food is sophisticated, and presented as though by an architect. I strongly recommend that you order the prawns as a starter, as your tastebuds will feel instantly transported to some golden beech island that is kissed by the Pacific sun.

It boasts a glossy veneer that is offset by its reasonable prices. Though mind you, I did stay away from the wine menu, and thus firmly within the 20 Euro bracket (main course and dessert).  And though the clientele strikes of exclusivity, upon more careful observation I realised that they were mostly all youthful and casually dressed.

Over the last year I have returned numerously to La Classe and I have yet to either be disappointed or to discover even the mildest flaw. In other words, your culinary experience of Paris will be amiss if you do not at least taste their prawns!



Naniso Tswai
I have travelled afar and aplenty but never before have I met a city such as Paris. In fact, “that Paris exists and anyone could choose to live anywhere else in the world will always be a mystery to me” (Woody Allen: Midnight in Paris). This powerful quote both explains and encapsulates my relationship with Paris. Young, energetic and full of life, almost instantly her cuteness consumes you, coursing through your veins until all you desire is to never leave her embrace. But it is not all catwalk perfections, as despite her elegant demeanour, living here is an altogether different and gritty affair. For the tourist Paris dons her most beautiful frock and flirts an irresistible charm, but were you intent on becoming a permanent fixture, prepare yourself for her invariably coarse moods. She is obstinately and often infuriatingly French. She wears her French mantra, indeed breaths it as if though to do anything else would be an affront to her flag. Even when I ventured into her sprawling contours expecting her personality to become diluted, however I was both relieved and perplexed by the resoluteness of character. She is France at its most unyielding, arrogant and concentrated self, but damn, do I love to love her. I invite you to follow my own discoveries of Paris’s hidden corners and whispered beauties.