Dilia

The story

Crafted with passion, served with love

A Tuscan in the 20th

Dilia takes its name from Dino and Ilia — the grandparents of Tuscan-born chef Michele Farnesi, who funded his leap into restaurant ownership. The name carries weight: this is a deeply personal project, opened in the former Roseval space on Rue d'Eupatoria, a corner address in Paris's 20th arrondissement that already had a loyal following among the city's food-aware crowd.

Farnesi arrived in Paris, by his own account, "without a penny and without a job." What he did have was a résumé that read like a map of modern European fine dining: time at Osteria Francescana under Massimo Bottura in Modena, then stages at Saturne with Sven Chartier and Rino with Giovanni Passerini — two restaurants that shaped a generation of Paris cooking. He went on to run the kitchen at Heimat, Pierre Jancou's project, before spotting the opportunity at Roseval when his friend Simone Tondo moved on. The handover was informal, built on friendship and a revenue-sharing arrangement — the kind of lean, trust-based deal that lets young talent actually open doors in this city.

The Kitchen and the Table

Farnesi describes his approach plainly: simple dishes, good produce, nothing stiff. The atmosphere reflects the man — talkative, unpretentious, "a bit of a clown," as he puts it. The room is a small, charming bistrot; the spirit is rock and roll rather than reverent. Dishes that have appeared include pain perdu aux mirabelles and pigeon — precise, seasonal, rooted in both Italian instinct and French discipline.

The format is built around fixed menus with multiple courses, alongside a counter option offering pasta in measured portions, cheese, and dessert for those who want something lighter. The wine list keeps things focused: a tight selection of Italian and French whites and reds, plus Champagne.

That combination — rigorous sourcing, Italian sensibility, Parisian informality — earned Dilia three forks from Gambero Rosso, the Italian guide's recognition that carries particular meaning for a chef who left Italy to prove himself abroad. It is the kind of award that confirms what regulars already knew.

Why It Matters

Farnesi opened Dilia at 26, having spent roughly a decade in professional kitchens. He has spoken candidly about the gap between culinary skill and business knowledge, and about choosing to make his mistakes on his own terms. That honesty shows in the restaurant: Dilia does not try to be more than it is. It is a neighbourhood table with serious cooking behind it, in a city where that combination remains genuinely rare.