Wander through the side streets surrounding the Quatre Septembre metro station, in the heart of Paris’s 2nd arrondissement, and a few surprises await. Perhaps you’ll pass an izakaya-style pub serving beer and yakitori, as if plucked directly from one of the alleys near Shinjuku station; or, while ambling down Rue Saint-Anne, stumble upon a tiny café serving green tea and dorayaki pancakes. It may appear, at first glance, to be a classic Haussmannian neighborhood with grand boulevards and mansard roofs, yet this bustling area, nicknamed “Little Tokyo,” not only boasts some of the best places to eat in town, but it has also retained a spirit of independence and cultural identity all too rare in central Paris. (Takara, reported to be the oldest Japanese restaurant in Europe, opened nearby in 1958, while the surrounding Japanese-owned supermarkets and bookstores that you’ll now find first began springing up in the early 1970s.)
Stepping into the fray this week is Hotel Hana, the latest design-led property from the boutique hospitality group Adresses Hotels. Launched in 2016 by the energetic and—by hotelier standards, anyway—relatively young entrepreneur Nicolas Saltiel, the collection features eight hotels (six in Paris, two in the south of France) conceived as home-away-from-home stays that are firmly in conversation with their environs. So, when it came to creating his latest—and arguably most dazzling—jewel box of a hotel, Saltiel turned to creative director Oliver Leone, known for his background in fashion, and interior designer Laura Gonzalez, whose signature spirit of colorful, artfully clashing maximalism has made her one of Paris’s most in-demand décor gurus.
From the outside, Hotel Hana’s presence is relatively subdued: Situated on a prime corner spot on the Rue du Quatre Septembre, it inspired many a curious local to peer through its windows during my stay last week, as the finishing touches were applied. Once you’re through its wrought iron doors, though, the artful balance of exuberance and restraint that defines its interiors is revealed. First, with its minimalist check-in desk, featuring a slab of lava stone over panels of smoky, black-and-gold agglomerated glass, topped solely with an ikebana-like flower arrangement in a slim, stylish ceramic vase. (The check-in process is as smooth as the floral jacquard silks and pink velvets that decorate the banquette seating of the nearby bar.)
“I tried to imagine what it would look like if Dries Van Noten visited Japan in the 1950s,” Leone said of the eclectic mix of influences he and Gonzalez devised together. Indeed, flicking through his mood board for the project, you’ll find everything from Wong Kar-Wai film stills to the cryptic, Hitchcockian images crafted by photographer Glen Luchford in his late-’90s campaigns for Prada and the Belle Époque stylings of the nearby metro station. (Don’t be surprised if Hotel Hana quickly becomes a fashion week favorite.) That cinematic sweep is arguably most striking within the rooms that sit on the seventh floor, where adjoining suites can be combined to take over the entire étage and enjoy views that stretch all the way up to the Sacré-Coeur.
Yet, once you’ve been whizzed up in the elevator, it’s the spirit of minimalism, inspired by the hospitality of traditional Japanese ryokan, that shines through—with each of its 26 bedrooms (airy and serene, yet all boasting views of the street below through 19th-century wrought iron Juliet balconies) featuring ivory-colored straw walls broken up by elegant slats of natural iroko wood. For touches of the French influence threaded through the property, though, you’ll find plush velvet headboards, custom-designed Pierre Frey rugs, and a suite of Diptyque toiletries laid out across the terracotta marble surfaces of the bathrooms. (Top marks for the water pressure in their rainfall showers, too.) Once you’ve settled yourself on one of the beds decked out in crisp white linens and unscrewed the pot of wasabi peas tucked under your bedside table, it can be a little challenging to imagine dragging yourself away from this oasis of calm.
But drag yourself away you must, as sharing top billing alongside the interiors here is the other star of the show: the food. Back on the ground floor, you’ll find the hotel’s Hanabi restaurant, where the color scheme of the bar is one of rich golds and blush pinks, while the dining area has a more subdued backdrop of green and gray. Behind a striking open kitchen covered in textured ceramic tiles, a host of cooks were gearing up for lunch service every morning by preparing cuts of fresh fish, or slicing and pickling vegetables.
Unsurprisingly, perhaps, the menu also offers a distinctive blend of French and Japanese traditions. Standout dishes include a succulent, roughly chopped steak tartare whose accompanying condiments span silky kewpie mayonnaise and diced Japanese pear, ready to be swirled together in a chunky ceramic plate for a salty-sweet symphony (and best enjoyed with a side of nori-sprinkled shoestring fries); another showstopper is the miso-sauced udon dish topped with a generous helping of translucent langoustine tartare, balancing the rich umami of the noodles with the delicate fleshiness of the raw shellfish. Each dish—and each accompanying cocktail—is a knockout; and if those curious stares through the window were anything to go by, it looks set to become a new neighborhood favorite.
Which, one imagines, is exactly what its founders wanted; their emphasis is firmly on weaving this new stay, however high-design it may be, into the fabric of its locale. Of course, you’re less than a 10-minute walk from plenty of the city’s major sights: the Louvre, the Palais Garnier, the world-class shopping of Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré. But, if you’re anything like me, you’ll likely find yourself content staying closer to home. (And if your inclination is to lay even lower, a spa offering kobido facial massages and reflexology using green tea and yuzu-scented oils will be opening in the basement in a few weeks, along with a small heated swimming pool.) During my two nights at the hotel, I was most happy browsing the local bookstores, or admiring miniature glazed ceramics at a boutique on Rue Saint-Anne, or piling a bowl of kake udon high with tempura vegetables at a local self-service noodle joint. At Hotel Hana, you get the sense that was very much the plan.
