A Grand French Table in Downtown Manhattan

Walking into Le Chêne on a bustling West Village evening is to step into a meticulous reinterpretation of French gastronomy — one that refuses the bistronomy shorthand while embracing a bracingly personal artistic voice. Behind the stoves is Alexia Duchêne, the Paris-born chef whose technical precision and creative confidence have quietly become among Manhattan’s most compelling culinary signatures. 

In a city where French cuisine has long been defined by classics and nostalgia, Duchêne’s Le Chêne stakes its claim with dishes that are rooted in refined technique but unfettered by rote tradition. The restaurant — her first solo project with husband and co-owner Ronan Duchêne Le May — opened in May 2025 at 76 Carmine Street, marrying a classic fine-dining sensibility with a startlingly contemporary pulse. 

Chef Alexia Duchêne and her husband Ronan Duchêne Le May run Le Chêne together. Photo: Andrew Bui. Restaurant Le Chêne.

The dining room is intimate yet liberated, a pared-back canvas enlivened by curated art and subtle flourishes that speak to a Parisian sensibility translated through a New York lens. Velvet banquettes, crisp white linen, and curated art by the likes of Basquiat and Warhol set an atmosphere that is both elegant and alive — an artful prelude to Duchêne’s cooking. 

Duchêne’s journey to this table has been unconventional. A semi-finalist on Top Chef France at just 23 — one of the youngest chefs to reach that stage of the competition — she cut her teeth in some of Europe’s most rigorous kitchens before making New York her home. A brief stint at Margot in Fort Greene underscored her exacting approach; it wasn’t long before she chose to build a restaurant that could fully embody her voice and vision. 

At Le Chêne, that vision comes into clear focus in dishes that balance whisper-quiet finesse with moments of rich theatricality. A complimentary half-boule of freshly baked bread — a gentle assertion of French hospitality — arrives with herb-kissed compound butters, setting the tone for a meal that is both generous and deeply considered. 

The menu is a thoughtful assembly of French classics reimagined. The pithivier — a towering, enclosed puff pastry — conceals layers of potato gratin, pork, and smoked eel, a surf-and-turf interpretation that simultaneously nods to tradition and disrupts expectation. It’s the sort of dish that makes diners pause, both for its technical rigor and for the way it challenges familiar palates. 

Photo: Andrew Bui. Restaurant Le Chêne.

Elsewhere, familiar favorites are refashioned with Duchêne’s delicacy of touch: oeufs mayonnaise given a playful, New York-inflected twist with tuna confit and Mimolette shavings, or crab thermidor reassembled into a crab-back presentation, fragrant with vadouvan and pure indulgence. 

Her cooking resists easy labels. It is neither self-consciously avant-garde nor simply retrospective; rather, each plate is an invitation into a richly hued culinary conversation. Even desserts reflect this ethos — from expansive clafoutis to chocolate tarts that celebrate texture and temperature as much as sweetness. 

Supporting Duchêne’s gastronomic narratives is a wine program helmed by her husband, featuring over 3,000 bottles with a strong French core but also Italian and American gems. The aim is to make pairings approachable yet exacting — a mirror to the food itself. 

In New York’s ever-evolving restaurant landscape, where the next trend can eclipse lasting influence, Le Chêne feels quietly deliberate. It is a space where culinary history is respected but never ensnared; where elegance is a given, and reinvention is the work of every service. Duchêne’s cuisine stands as a testament to the enduring power of technique married to curiosity — and to the belief that diners still come not just to eat but to be truly nourished by an experience. 

Header Photo Credit: Andrew Bui. Restaurant Le Chêne.