Les Amis – French for “Friends” – was born from the dream of a few passionate gourmets who longed to bring the spirit of French fine dining to Asia. The story begins with a culinary road trip by Desmond Lim, who journeyed from Lyon to Provence in 1984. During that trip, the future financial patron of the restaurant visited one Michelin address after another, gathering inspiration and building connections.
Ten years later, he met three equally ambitious companions – chef Justin Quek, sommelier Ignatius Chan, and Dr. Chong Yap Seng – and together they decided to open Singapore’s first independent fine dining restaurant, far from hotel lobbies, which at the time was a revolutionary move in the local dining scene.
And so, on March 15, 1994, Les Amis was born on Scotts Road – a location that quickly became an icon of Singapore’s gastronomic landscape and an authentic French experience in the heart of the city.
Though the single restaurant has since grown into Les Amis Group – with over 20 concepts, from bistros to pho bars – the flagship remains the pride and joy of co-founder and group chairman Desmond Lim. Its philosophy has never changed: talent meets capital – the team is provided with the finest French ingredients and regular training in Michelin-starred kitchens, and in return, they uphold an unparalleled standard of service and cuisine.
Since 2013, the kitchen has been led by French chef Sébastien Lepinoy, who in 2019 earned the restaurant its third Michelin star – completing a rare triple crown alongside five stars from Forbes Travel Guide and the highest “Wine Spectator” distinction for its wine list.
The restaurant is located on the ground floor of Shaw Centre at 1 Scotts Road, just one block from the bustling shopping strip of Orchard Road, yet set far enough back that its elegant windows and discreet signage evoke the feel of a Parisian passageway rather than a mall entrance. The street-level doorway leads directly into the main dining room.
At first glance, the space doesn’t seem intimate: it’s long and tall, with generous proportions, crystal chandeliers, and soaring two-story windows that give it a sense of grandeur. But the quieted carpets, velvet wall panels, and a calm palette of beige and graphite soften the room’s monumentality.
It’s worth noting that Les Amis has undergone two significant renovations since its founding: the first in 2007, which opened up its once-metallic façade to the street, and the second in spring 2015, when the kitchen was expanded and a mezzanine level was added, doubling the number of seats at a cost of 1.5 million SGD.
We were seated at a round table in the main dining room, with a near-complete view of the space. The first decision we had to make was the menu. Guests can choose between a full tasting menu or a four-course set menu, which includes a cold starter, a warm starter, a main, and dessert, all à la carte. As usual, we opted for the full tasting menu with wine pairing.
We began our dinner in classic French fashion: with hand-cut sourdough sliced tableside from a large country-style loaf, accompanied by a warm basil roll and Beillevaire butter. Considered one of the most esteemed artisanal butters in France, Beillevaire is made from raw cow’s milk using traditional methods. Its exceptional creaminess, silky texture, and pure, milky flavor, often with hints of fresh hay, come from natural fermentation and manual churning in wooden barrels. Produced by the family-run fromagerie Beillevaire in the Pays de la Loire region, this butter is a quiet ode to terroir, craftsmanship, and uncompromising quality. In a cuisine that reveres butter, there was no better way to begin the meal.
Next came the canapés: a savory parmesan sablé topped with a light bell pepper mousse and a hint of ginger, and a tiny chicken and leek brochette, served with a curry sauce and miniature croissant. The snacks were tasty, and the presentation of the skewer, especially with the inclusion of leek, was visually appealing and pleasantly unexpected. Yet for all their polish, these bites remained a little too classical. They didn’t surprise, and they didn’t linger in memory – more the kind of thing you eat and forget. The extremely brisk pacing of the courses at this point felt momentarily overwhelming. We also missed a small finger towel – something that would have been a welcome touch, considering the format.
Then came La Mise en Bouche – a little taste to awaken the palate. Served in a small bowl, it featured sea urchin with a crustacean jelly and cauliflower cream. The surface was covered with a velvety layer of cauliflower cream, dotted with bright green drops of herb gel that resembled tiny jewels scattered across the dish. The cream was dense and smooth, more like a perfect ganache than a foam or mousse, providing a warm, enveloping mouthfeel. Beneath it lay tender sea urchin and lobster jelly, with their subtle briny notes of iodine, seaweed, and ocean spray. It was beautifully balanced by the soft, buttery richness of the cauliflower. A refined and well-executed composition.
The next dish was a surprise from the chef – his signature creation served off the official tasting menu. A delicate nest of chilled angel hair pasta was presented with kombu seaweed, chives, shiso flower, and a generous topping of caviar. The pasta’s silky texture was elevated by its cool temperature, while the kombu imparted a subtle, marine depth without overwhelming the palate. The caviar added salinity and mineral umami, contrasted by the fresh sharpness of chives. The shiso flower brought an aromatic lift – herbaceous, slightly minty, with a whisper of anise. Minimal in form, but layered and refined in flavor.
Next came Le Hors d’œuvre Froid au Caviar – a cold starter that looked like a flower on the plate. Round, al dente slices of low-starch Roseval potatoes formed delicate “petals”, each filled with light cream and topped with a caper, a flake of smoked salmon, and a shiso blossom to subtly enhance the potato’s sweetness. In the center, a mound of French caviar from Île-de-France, served chilled, firm, and intensely mineral. Creamy, cool, and precisely composed, this dish found a perfect match in a crisp Riesling.
Another French classic followed: a vibrant green watercress velouté, smooth and elegant, concealing a cool foie gras jelly beneath the surface. The foie was silky, with a mild liver note and a soft, cooling effect against the warmth of the soup. On top – pan-seared chanterelles, firm and forest-scented, and crisp croutons that added structure. A comforting and well-balanced bowl.
Le Fruit de Mer featured a hand-dived scallop, lightly cooked to maintain a creamy, sashimi-like texture – warm, yet tender and juicy, with the perfect balance of firmness and melt-in-your-mouth softness. It was wrapped in a sauce of herbs and seaweed, with finely chopped shallots and capers lending brightness and a saline bite. A black lace tuile crowned the dish, adding a dramatic touch and delicate crunch. A beautifully restrained plate that captured both the freshness of the sea and the precision of French technique – truly memorable.
Next was a study in minimalist perfection: a fillet of wild Atlantic seabass, slow-cooked with surgical precision until just-set, tender, and creamy in texture. A glistening heap of oscietra caviar topped the fish, its clean, briny burst cutting through the richness. Everything was bathed in a light, champagne-and-sorrel sauce, gently acidic, herbaceous, and quietly luxurious.
After the fish courses, we were served a refreshing palate cleanser in the form of an intermezzo, which was a vibrant herb granita with lemon. Delicate notes of tarragon, mint, basil, and flat-leaf parsley could all be detected. A lot was happening, but it never felt overwhelming. Aromatic, herbaceous, and crisp, it was a perfect reset, made all the more memorable by its beautifully artistic plating.
Next came a dish that perfectly captured the current renaissance of celeriac in fine dining. Minimalist in composition, yet rich in execution, it featured six circular slices of root celery, slow-cooked in chicken bouillon until silky inside, then gently glazed to a subtle sheen. Finished with freshly chopped scallions and black truffle, the dish celebrated the vegetable’s earthy sweetness without being overshadowed – the truffle lifted the flavor just a half-step higher. Once seen as a humble side, celeriac here took center stage. Sweetness, umami, earthy warmth, all in a quiet, comforting yet refined presentation. Minimal in form, maximal in flavor.
The Challans duck duo with foie gras, turnips, and glazed cherries was a seamless marriage of French tradition and contemporary finesse. Served as a single cut, the duck combined two preparations: classically pink, juicy, and robust in flavor, paired with a layer of foie gras that added buttery richness, gentle sweetness, and a smooth, melting texture. Alongside were slices of turnip – slightly sweet, tender yet firm, with a touch of pepper and fresh scallion. The only flaw was a slightly separated sauce, which might have benefitted from a different plating approach, but this minor detail did not take away from the dish’s overall success. Served separately, the glazed cherries were bold, sweet-and-sour, with a glossy finish, their acidity brilliantly cutting through the richness of the foie and duck.
Before dessert, we faced a delightful challenge: the arrival of the cheese trolley from Maison Mons. Our elegant selection of farmhouse and artisanal cheeses, curated by the acclaimed affineur, included a classic lineup goat cheese, Comté, blue, and Livarot. Served with crispy baguette and raisin bread, the cheeses impressed with their depth, balance, and clearly defined character: from the earthy sharpness of the blue, through the nutty umami of Comté, to the bright intensity of the goat. We only missed the usual accompaniments, such as grapes, nuts, dried fruit, or a touch of honey, which could have elevated the pairing. Still, the plate was superb, and the quality of the cheeses spoke for itself.
Dessert followed our cheese feast in grand style. First to arrive was a chocolate tart, one of the restaurant’s signature creations. Made with Venezuelan dark chocolate and a base of carob, it was deeply bitter, silky, and supremely creamy – pure indulgence for lovers of intense, grown-up chocolate. A bold and unapologetic closing note to the savory courses.
Next came a touch of whimsy: a dessert hidden inside a sugar sphere. Within it, we discovered stewed figs, honey ice cream, and crispy meringue. Playful in form and elegant in execution, it stood in perfect contrast to the previous tart – this time lighter, fruitier, and equally memorable. The presentation added a dose of fun, as we had to “crack into” the dessert before tasting it.
To close the evening, we were served Les Petit Fours and Les Chocolats au Plateau – a sweet, classic French finale. There were canelés, beautifully caramelized on the outside and custardy within, crisp palmiers, and a delightful selection of handmade chocolates, elegantly offered from a large presentation box.
How would we sum up the experience? Undeniably positive. At times we felt that we were navigating well-worn classics, flavors we thought couldn’t surprise us, but the dishes stood strong on execution and precision. With only a few very minor details to note, the meal was near flawless. It’s important to remember that Les Amis is meant to serve French classics in a modern form and convey the spirit of France – a mission it accomplishes beautifully. And let’s not forget: the restaurant is located in Singapore, far from France, yet what lands on the plate are carefully selected, top-quality French ingredients, something that deserves real appreciation.
We were also struck by the visual consistency throughout the meal – plates filled with circles, spheres, dots, and curves that tied the entire tasting together like a visual motif. And the circle, after all, is the most perfect shape.
We’d also like to highlight the exceptional service – refined, polished, and unmistakably Parisian in spirit. The greatest impression was left by sommelier Noah, who was in charge of the wine service that evening. With deep knowledge, intuition, and ease, he guided us through each stage of the pairing, offering thoughtful context to every glass. Professional yet warm, he made listening to him – and then tasting what he poured – a real pleasure.
We left the dinner smiling, satisfied, and full, and we can wholeheartedly recommend Les Amis to anyone who loves France: its ingredients, its ambiance, its flavors. To those who appreciate faultless service, generous caviar, artisanal cheeses, and simply excellent cuisine.