East, Ate, Repeat : Our best Asian restaurants in Paris

In 2026, you no longer need to take a flight to Tokyo or Hanoi to travel all the way to Asia. In Paris, sometimes you just have to cross the street. A shop that throws its vapors on the sidewalk, a hidden canteen, a gastro table that plays a sharper score... and the journey starts. From Japan to China, Korea to Vietnam, it’s crispy, it simmers, it spices: it perfumes... Rice, noodles, broth, soy, peppers and that umami depth that makes you want to come back. So yes, Paris is far from Asia geographically, not cullinary speeking. The proof in 5 addresses that don’t eat bread.

FAAÏ

Anne and Franck had already taken us to Thailand with Naam, in Belleville and Lille. With Faaï, they turn things back on and take the trip up a notch...   Here, there’s no question of replaying the playlist from the Thai restaurant we all well know. Adios Pad Thai, Khao Phat and other expected classics. The journey is more subtle, richer, more contemporary... we leave the tourist route to go and exercise our taste buds elsewhere. Already, Faaï means "flame." It’s also the name of these little terracotta braziers that you come across in Bangkok’s stalls and that swing fire, smoke and that comforting little taste that comes to catch you by the neck. Here is the base of the kitchen.  Then? Pancakes, salads, curries... and of course the rice, faithful companion on the road, glutinous or dry, which sometimes acts as a firefighter to calm the fire lit by certain dishes.  And then, the uppercuts: the Hoi Thod, a pancake with mussels smoked over a wood fire. The Yam Khao Tod, a crispy rice salad with fresh herbs that crunches and refreshes this little mess. And the Roti, this flaky patty that we keep piling up even though we’re objectively no longer hungry. In fact, everything is crazy. Naam made us travel... Faaï makes us change classes.

15 Rue Trousseau, 75011 Paris, France

MAM FROM HANOI

One may say that Vietnamese cuisine is one of the best in the world, but as we say about many cuisines... The best part is still to go check it out yourself. Then, head to Mam From Hanoi. And then... it’s hard not to join the camp of the convinced.  Here, it’s the North Vietnamese cuisine that speaks and particularly the pho. This micro-cafeteria has managed a little tour de force: transforming the phprovisie into an almost gastronomic dish without ever gentrifying it. A lot of people agree to place him at the very top of the Parisian pyramid, and honestly, we understand why.  The broth is deep, ultra-fragrant and yet surprisingly light. The pasta is al dente, the meat tender... and eating all these people with baguettes never turns into an Olympic event. The proof is in the immaculate shirt, a true personal performance. Also, don’t skip the spring rolls: generous, tender inside, crunchy outside... it’s a nice brawl.  Important: book and be on time. The place is mic’d and the service is boiling. And one last thing: a phapprov, it’s warm. Add a little spice and you’ll trigger an immediate body heat wave. But hey... there are some heatwaves that really make you happy.

39 Rue de Clery, 75002 Paris, France

OKOMUSU

A little away from the hustle and bustle of rue Charlot, there is Okomusu. A tiny Japanese counter, or almost, entirely dedicated to okonomiyaki. And already, just the word puts in a good mood.  Okonomiyaki is a bit like the Osaka cousin of the Spanish tortilla: a generous pancake made with eggs, flour and cabbage, on which are grafted shrimp, pork, vegetables... Anyway, you do your market according to the mood of the moment. The hardest part? To choose.  And a little warning: the card requires a slice of concentration. This isn’t the kind of place where you order with your eyes closed in less than twelve seconds. You have to read, hesitate, and wonder what you really want. But once this milestone is reached, delivery of hapyness is almost immediate. The okonomiyaki arrives hot, topped with a soft and slightly sweet sauce. And then there is this little bit extra of poetry: the bits of skipjack that quiver in the heat, as if they were starting to dance an improvised choreography just for you. It’s impossible not to smile. Above all, don’t skip the starters. The portions are quite small, so it’s perfect to warm up your sweet tooth without spoiling your appetite. In the end, this is exactly what we came for: a simple, warm and damn comforting regalade.  As is often the case with counters, happiness is best experienced in small groups. Two people make perfect work. Three people make the difference. Beyond that, you are especially likely to elbow your way to admire the bonito shavings doing their little ballet. And honestly... it would be a shame to lose a crumb.

11 rue Charlot, 75003 Paris, France

FAT BELLY

There are places that catapult you to Asia without needing to take out the passport. At Fat Belly, in the Marais, the journey begins in front of the open kitchen: flames, ovens, meats roasting gently... and those smells of ginger, garlic, spices and caramelized sauces that come to gently tickle the truffle. It smells like a Chinese rotisserie, the fat crunching and the right decisions. Let’s start with the Toast Crevette Fat Belly. So there... don’t come looking for the lightness of a salad leaf! It’s greasy, crispy, generous, damn greedy and above all terribly addictive. First bite and it’s ruined: the hand leaves on its own to look for the next one. Then, the meat. It will be lacquered pork and crispy pork belly. On one side, the tender pork, shiny, caramelized, almost suave... on the other hand, this breast with its crust crunching before letting go of its melting fat. The kind of thing that immediately reconciles with cholesterol levels. To accompany all that, from the choy sum sautéed on the wok, still crunchy, vegetal, just enough to cuddle your mouth a little between two pig uppercuts. Here, it’s hot, roasted, laced, crunchy... a generous Asian cuisine that clearly doesn’t try to do things in half measure.

57 rue Charlot, 75003 Paris, France

JIP

Small place, 2 services in the evening, kitchen in the room and perfectly oiled mechanics. Here, it’s not long: 3 courses, 2 choices, dessert for the greediest and a ride for my chicken. It goes fast... very fast, but nothing is rushed.  On the plates, the chef plays with Korean inspirations: it spices, it mellows, it comforts and above all, it severely awakens a sense of greed.  The first two courses are small... almost cruelly small when Madame Butterfly rolls in, the signature dish, an addictive little bomb: a kind of fry sandwich with shrimp, mayo, and a dash of lemon. Crunchy, greasy enough, tangy. What’s the problem? We would take back 75 bites, just to calm the greed that he himself has just woken up.  Fortunately, the noodles arrive. Soba way, super chewy: a version with corn, soft and comforting, and the other spicy one that just sticks a last wad to the palate in case it had the crazy idea to fall asleep.  Not really the spot to talk about the weather for 3 hours between two plates. The kitchen is literally in the room, the dishes go from preparation to the table in a few steps. It cooks, it sends, it eats. Fast & furious, Korean way, with umami instead of gasoline.

112 rue de la Roquette 75011 Paris, France