Géosmine, chef Maxime Bouttier's first raw, living table

An intriguing name: Géosmine, the chemical component of pétrichor, that distinctive smell of fertile earth, wet after rain. Chef Maxime Bouttier 's link with the land and the soil comes from his parents, who are themselves farmers, and his uncle, a butcher by trade. And then there's the geosmin in the wine, the other mainstay of this new restaurant in the 11th arrondissement.

Trained as much in cooking as in pastry-making, and having passed through some of the finest Michelin-starred establishments - Christophe Hay's La Maison d'à côté, Le Pressoir d'Argent in Bordeaux, Jean Luc Rabanel's L'Atelier in Arles, Mensae in Paris - to name but a few, the Sarthe-born chef has imagined his first restaurant as a townhouse, on two floors.

On the first floor, a tastefully decorated, rough, brick-and-concrete dining room, where every detail is the chef's work, right down to the knives whose handles are made from slivers of scallops. Upstairs, at the top of the granite staircase, the veranda of this former textile workshop bathes the room in natural light. And below us, a vertiginous glass wine cellar with hundreds of references.

Selected by sommelier Vincent Glaymann, the bottles travel between Greece, Spain, Austria, Germany, Italy and, of course, France, on a menu that is almost entirely natural, organic or biodynamic. Between confidential cuvées from small estates, rare bottles and more conventional wines, the sommelier waltzes the vintages with passion by the glass, the bottle or through food and wine pairings.

At Geosmine, Maxime Bouttier 's singular vision of cuisine is expressed in a raw and lively way, with the utmost respect for the seasons, local produce and terroirs; hand in hand with a handful of carefully selected producers and artisans.

With a particular love for offal that stands out, cock's crest, lamb's brain but also, and this is even more unusual, dairy cow's udder (€25) and caviar, a dish that is already a cult if a little sparse in the restaurant - but let's just say it's for the experience (a first for us!) that proves to be most sapid.

An enchanting trio of starters to share: hot rillettes in cromesquis and black garlic (11€), a mischievous tribute to the chef's regional origins; citrus tarama, shredded bottarga and nasturtium shoots (13€); and graphic buckwheat crackers (13€), topped with raw cream and caviar. The starters, spring mackerel (17€) with peas, tarragon and floral mise-en-scène; equally green asparagus (21€), pistachio, wild garlic and red mustard; and majestic morels, peas and animal jus (19€). It's fresh, in season and like running through fields.

With three of us, it's easy to sound out the entire menu with the dishes on offer that day: Charolais beef tenderloin with a barbecue sauce glossed with Noilly Prat vermouth (30€), and pearly Saint-Malo turbot, leeks, monks' beard and nasturtium (39€).

The two diametrically opposed desserts round off a more than eloquent lunch, but one that not everyone will be able to afford: one, half-chocolate, half-praline, built up in geological strata (15€), the other, more graceful, with a swaying lemon sorbet, sage, crumbled cereals and shavings of hazelnut butter (13€).

An address that's sure to be talked about.

This test was conducted as part of a professional invitation. If your experience differs from ours, please mention it in the comments.