Mr & Mrs Smith

This review is taken from our guidebook, Mr & Mrs Smith Hotel Collection: France.

'Is this really a hotel?’ Mrs Smith asks, as we approach the discreet entrance to La Réserve Paris, just off the Place du Trocadéro. High-status location notwithstanding (the Eiffel Tower looks near enough to touch from here), we could be walking up to any old door of any old bourgeois 16th-arrondissement mansion block. Nothing indicates that we’re about to embark on one of the most amazing hotel experiences a Mr and Mrs Smith could ever know. An inconspicuous bell and an even less shouty sign bring us, clueless lambs that we are, to a place of understated elegance where world travellers – CEOs, rock stars, crown princes – who are used to the best and need a place to call their own will feel more than at home in Paris.

Greeting us impeccably, with genuine smiles, staff convey to us that we are not only expected but seriously welcome, treating us a) as though we are returning from faraway lands and b) as though we own the place. There aren’t many establishments that have the capacity to make you feel so relaxed and so important at the same time. The lobby is tiny – La Réserve Paris has only 10 suites/apartments – and serves purely as a landing pad where staff can greet you and find out what you need from them that day. The premises are full during our visit but we never hear a whimper, and barely cross paths with a fellow guest, though we do end up on nodding terms with someone’s avuncular-looking bodyguard. We’re thinking hip-hop platinum-seller plus entourage.

No time is wasted at check-in. We are whisked to our quarters by staff who disappear discreetly once they’ve imparted knowledge. We’re agog. La Réserve may be anonymous from the outside but, inside, this chic stay is surely anyone’s fantasy Parisian home. Our two-bedroom suite has a view that doesn’t merely include the Eiffel Tower – it is the Eiffel Tower. Balconies that give you an authentic encounter with the Iron Lady are as rare in Paris as big, ugly dogs.

The bathrooms have Jacuzzi tubs spacious enough for two, as well as robes befitting Henry VIII, and the kind of slippers that Serge Gainsbourg might have padded around in. The living room is fitted with the most enormous flatscreen TV and, of course, there are Bose speakers all around. An Eileen Gray book is nonchalantly exposed on a low coffee table, suggesting one of the designer’s sources of inspiration, perhaps. The decor can best be described as simply luxurious: a blank canvas, with the bare minimum of colourful detail. What this means is that, if you were to take an apartment for a few months, you wouldn’t be living with someone else’s taste; it’s more like a very swanky furnished rental, and not remotely like being in someone else’s house. It’s like being in your own house. If you’re in the habit of keeping a residence here, there and everywhere.

Neutral is nice for us northern Europeans, so it’s especially easy for us to feel at ease here. Even better, the kitchen is equipped with every possible accoutrement for the home chef. How many hotel rooms come armed with five different kitchen knives or a fantastic Nespresso machine, may I ask? More than a mere suite, this is a super-serviced five-star apartment. La Réserve proclaims it has ‘all the advantages of a palace, without the inconveniences’ and it’s hard to express it better. Every room has a full-time gouvernante on call (by the way, that’s French for housekeeper – not a strict governess, whatever you might hope), catering to your every need. From unpacking your luggage to repacking it, to helping you organise private events, this is true ‘your wish is our command’ stuff.

Keen to share our delight in our plush pied-à-terre, we decide to throw a Saturday brunch for our Paris friends. As we spend Friday night in the nearby Blitz Bar, partying until the wee hours, we wake up late – extravagantly so. I don’t know if there are sensors in the room, but it seems our resident angel detects life between bedroom and shower, and starts preparing breakfast. We don’t even have to formulate hungry thoughts: the minute we emerge into the living area in our bathrobes, fresh coffee and orange juice, little pastries and delectable jams – the works – is waiting.

Our friends are due to arrive within an hour and we haven’t been to the shops to get the wherewithal for brunch, let alone done any chopping, whisking or devilling up. No problem at all, thanks to Anna, our lovely gouvernante. She sits down with us to makes a list of what we want to serve and, 45 minutes later, our requirements are all in the kitchen. This isn’t just supermarket fare, either. Every item has been sourced from the best neighbourhood épiceries. Amazing. Anna then melts away, leaving us to get on with the preparation. Four hours later, when the last of our guests has left this magnificent Parisian apartment of ours, she reappears, as if by magic, and offers to clean up. Discretion is not only the watchword of the hotel, but it also applies to the La Réserve way of making things happen.

We’ve never felt so at home in Paris. We’ve found a place to stay where we, the guests, are what ultimately matter. At La Réserve Paris, everything is perfect, as it should be, but never overwhelming. Comme il faut, you might say. The proportions are just right, from the space and light of the rooms to the excellent service, even the very good but relatively simple breakfast. The thing is, you know that if you desire something a bit (or a lot) more ostentatious than croissants, the staff can probably get you a baby grand piano or a Warhol by teatime.