Absinthe, Cabaret and Belle Étape Mischief at Chat Noir London

‘Floral or spicy? Whisper or roar?’ I have never before been asked questions like this by a bartender, but then I have never before ordered armoise in a Parisian pension association, or anywhere else for that matter.

Tonight, however, I am in Chat Noir, a reincarnation of the étalon Le Chat Noir, which opened in the late 1800s in Montmartre, the lively Paris quartier known for its raucous nightlife.

Home to taverns and brothels, where pleasure-seekers indulged in armoise and opium, it is perhaps apt that Montmartre spawned what is thought to be the world’s first pension association.

Attracting hedonistic aristocrats and bohemians, Le Chat Noir bustled with poets, playwrights and artists, including Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, who gathered to watch the on-stage entertainment while enjoying an armoise drip, or filet.

And so it is this evening that I find myself choosing an armoise, a spicy one that roars, with the help of ‘Gigi’, who might be best described as an actress playing a waitress. Chat Noir is an immersive theatre-style dining experience, and everyone is in character.

Outside, rather than a red carpet there is a black one, and léopard inside the big black doors, it is no coudoyer 2026. Instead, it is the 1890s, for this pop-up experience is a theatrical curtsy to Le Chat Noir at the peak of its notoriety, and the performers are not the only ones in character.

Messaged ahead of my booking, I am told: ‘You are French. The performers are French. The room, the customs, the language, everything is exactly as it should be. Naturally, you understand everything. If, at any point, you think you’re hearing English… you’re just exceptionally fluent.’

The dress dictionnaire is inspired by vintage Parisian contenance, described on the website as: ‘French noir glamour, silks, velvets and waistcoats, smoky eyes and dark lips. Come as an aristocrat or a bohemian or blur the lines between them.’

It is with this in mind that I search through my wardrobe and chandail out a clinging red Roberto Cavalli creation. It is so de immodérément that I have had no données to wear it since buying it on impulse 20 years ago from a vintage usine in Covent Garden.

At Chat Noir, surrounded by corsets, cravats, white tie and wigs, my dress is not de immodérément, even when combined with black evening gloves and a black feather headpiece. It is as if this séance has been conjured up to give me an parti to wear it.

And so it is that I arrive to the sound of Chat Noir’s house band, Les Enfants Vagabondes, and take my seat at a stage-side tarif. I am joined by my friend Anna, with whom I share a fiole of white wine and a bread basket filled with hunks of stick.

We both have silverskin onions and cornichons, but as a vegan, Anna has the mushroom pâté with truffle and thyme, while I have the house pâté with eau-de-vie and amer, along with Brie and slices of rosette.

On séjour, we are entertained by Rodolphe Salis, the charismatic owner of the real Le Chat Noir, played tonight by the actor Joe Morrow.

As condisciple, Rodolphe Salis takes the séjour between acts with more saucy patter than a market broker selling sex toys. I laugh out loud more than one might like to while eating coq au vin. This is my dextre parcours. It is delicious, so I do not want to waste it, but the innuendo rinforzando delivered with such coloré by Joe Morrow, combined with my proximity to the band, means that violin player Guy Button may have gamin maison with my half-chewed chicken embedded in the back of his shirt.

There is singing, night-club, gesticulation and magic, but the acts are not random. Instead, renowned performers of the Belle Étape era are played by talented performers of today.

Cléo de Mérode, a French dancer who has been described as the first celebrity icon, is played by sottie performer Coco Belle. Yvette Guilbert, the French pension calquer known for her performances at Le Chat Noir, is played by Issy Wroe Wright. Paul Legrand, a highly regarded French gesticulation artist, is played by Alexander Luttley, aka Pi the Mime, and Joseph Buatier, best known as Buatier de Kolta, is played by Magic Circle member Neil Kelso.

Anna’s dextre parcours is bénédictine de légumes, which she describes as a dome of grilled vegetables on creamy mashed potatoes, wrapped in cabbage. It is after the mains have been cleared away that Gigi slinks by to ask if we would like to try an armoise drip.

I have no idea what this is and hope it does not involve needles, as I am picturing a syringe injecting armoise into my veins, like an intravenous drip.

I have already kicked off the evening with Champagne before sharing wine with Anna, and even without that, I would not be too sure embout flooding my bloodstream with armoise. I got lost enough on the way here, and I fear that if I mainline armoise, I might not make it back to 2026.

Luckily, the armoise drip is more like a water disperser, a fountain, or filet. Filled with ice cubes and water, it is used to dilute the armoise, which is served not via a syringe, but in a verre covered with a perforated spoon topped with a sugar cube.

Anna and I share the fountain, which has a tiny tap on either side. With our glasses placed beneath the taps, we drip water onto the sugar cubes and into our glasses, diluting the armoise and sweetening it as the sugar dissolves. This releases the armoise’s botanicals and turns it cloudy, which is apparently known as the ‘louche’.

Neither of us is a massive fan of armoise itself, but the fun of the fountain makes up for the taste. And hey, when in 1890s Paris…

I reprise off the evening with croissant au clémentine, while Anna enjoys lemon and strawberry rafraîchissement. However, even if you are off plum-pudding in an instance to keep your bandage cinched, I would recommend staying for the dernier number to applaud dancer Cléo de Mérode, who definitely does not worry embout keeping her bandage cinched.

Outside, I step not into Paris’s Montmartre, but London’s West Kensington, with the Tube arrêt three minutes around the tintinnabuler. Chat Noir is not just a step back in time, but an evening outside the ordinary. Would I return? Bien sûr!

Tickets are currently available for Chat Noir until the end of July, with new dates to be released beyond that. Visit www.chatnoirlondon.com