Armed with an insatiable appetite, a forgiving waistband and a pack of indigestion tablets, I dived headfirst into two days and nights in Paris. The city needs little introduction as one of the world's great food capitals, famed for its bakeries, pâtisseries and brasseries - but I was curious to see what else this iconic foodie haven had in store beyond the obvious.
Saturday
6am
An early Eurostar means waking at the crack of dawn, when it's technically too early to eat - though that didn't stop the Premier Lounge from offering pastries, fruit, tea and coffee. I held out, having heard high praise for the onboard breakfast and it was worth the wait. After yoghurt and a croissant came a full cooked breakfast: herby sausage, beans, mushrooms, a bread roll and Estate Dairy butter. Make a note of the butter - in France, it's never just butter.
10.30am
Arriving in Paris in the rain isn't always romantic but all was forgiven the moment I stepped into the Shangri-La Paris. Calm and cocooning, the hotel feels like a sanctuary from the bustle around the Eiffel Tower which sits just a stone's throw away. Any lingering travel fatigue vanished when I reached my superior room (doubles from £1595): a view, freshly baked madeleines, a miniature chocolate Eiffel Tower and a bowl of clementines waiting on the table. Still full from breakfast, I mentally bookmarked the madeleines for later - they deserved my full attention.
1.30pm
A short walk took us to Le Stella, a beloved local brasserie in the 16th arrondissement. Tucked into the lively upstairs dining room, it was immediately clear this was a place for locals: families gathered for long lunches, grown children catching up with parents and one table fresh from the races, fascinators still firmly in place.
We began with snails swimming in vivid green garlic butter and oysters, naturally accompanied by bread and thick slabs of Beurre d'Isigny. For mains, delicate St Jacques scallops arrived in a light broth with perfectly cooked buttery rice. Dessert was a bridge too far - but I knew there were madeleines waiting patiently back at the hotel.
4.40pm
The madeleines did not disappoint: light, soft and deeply buttery, finished with a sweet glaze and a touch of edible gold leaf. Decadent but entirely justified.
6pm
Chinese food might not be the most obvious choice in Paris but it turned out to be one of the weekend's standout experiences. Chef Tony Xu joined the Shangri-La in 2011, bringing with him both technical mastery and a clear culinary vision. Before dinner, we were treated to a dumpling-making class. Watching the chef deftly fold perfectly pleated dumplings was both inspiring and humbling - my own attempts felt clumsy by comparison, hands suddenly heavy and uncooperative.
Dinner was a seven-course tasting menu at Shang Palace, served family-style on a central rotating turntable. It began memorably with Mongolian ice salad - crisp, chilled leaves dressed in a creamy, nutty sesame sauce that I'm still thinking about. Chef Xu, who hails from Sichuan, is intentional in the story he tells through food, carefully balancing richness and freshness so that each course feels distinct and never overwhelming.
Highlights included crispy minced duck served with lettuce leaves, melt-in-the-mouth wagyu beef fillet with king oyster mushrooms and savoury, buttery fried rice. I opted for a tea pairing which proved inspired: delicate floral teas with lighter courses, deeper, earthier brews alongside richer dishes. The meal ended on a bright note with a fresh mango and coconut pudding - light, fragrant and deeply satisfying.
Sunday
9am
After a blissfully cosy night's sleep, breakfast was taken in La Bauhinia. Soft florals and a calm, airy atmosphere set the tone for a leisurely start. I went for avocado on toast with two perfectly poached eggs, followed - because this is Paris - by small sugary pastries: crisp choux bites studded with sugar crystals, ideal with a strong coffee.
1.30pm
Wagyu beef needs little explanation and after the previous night's fillet, a trip to its source felt inevitable. We travelled to Normandy to visit the wagyu farm supplying many of Paris's top restaurants.
Set in tranquil countryside, the farm is spread across acres of land with younger cows tumbling through hay and older ones doing what they do best. Hearing about the care, attention and passion behind the rearing process was as impressive as seeing it firsthand.
Lunch was laid out in a secluded garden: a long table dressed with flowers, mismatched vintage crockery and shared bottles of wine. We began with beef charcuterie made from farm offcuts, followed by grilled wagyu sirloin and ribeye, new potatoes cooked in beef fat, grilled aubergine, courgette and peppers - and, of course, bread and butter.
The beef was astonishingly tender; rich yet delicate; almost indecently good. A heart-shaped Neufchâtel cheese followed; traditionally said to have been gifted as a token of love to soldiers. Conversation soon turned - inevitably - back to butter; with Beurre Bordier declared the undisputed champion. Everything I'd eaten before suddenly felt like a warm-up act.
8.30pm
Our final dinner was at La Bauhinia, where Executive chef Simon Havage blends French classics with Asian-inspired flair.
We began with the sea bream ceviche with mango, coriander and black lime, and the crispy rice tuna with lime - fresh, vibrant and dangerously moreish. For mains, I chose the pike-perch fillet, served with coconut cream, curry and seasonal vegetables. Every bite offered something different and it was a genuine pleasure to eat. Dessert was chef Maxence Barbot's famous profiterole, finished with a deeply satisfying crack of caramel.
11pm
After all that eating, it would have been a shame not to linger a little longer. Le Bar Botaniste, with its ornate chandeliers and plush sofas inspired by Napoleon's tents, was the perfect setting. Sipping a Beshkan - rose pisco with pistachio orgeat - I reflected on just how much Paris had delivered.
Monday
It's fair to say the weekend was a culinary whirlwind and I chose not to calculate quite how much butter I'd consumed. Just when I thought I was done eating, I was presented with Jeremy Chan of Ikoyi's bold, vibrant new breakfast menu on the Eurostar back to London.
Well - it would have been rude to say no.