In Paris, a Filipina chef is cooking up mischief

Chef Erica Paredes describes her latest venture, Mischief, set in the heart of Le Marais, as a playground as much as it is a restaurant. Rather than focusing on strict authenticity, the restaurant borrows broadly from Philippine cuisine, recast in forms less common to the local dining scene.

Nina Cabrera Capistrano

Nina Cabrera Capistrano

Philippine Daily Inquirer

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Compared with her first restaurant Reyna, Mischief sets off in a different direction—signaling the next stage in Ms Paredes' evolution as a Filipina chef in Paris. PHOTOS: CONTRIBUTED/PHILIPPINE DAILY INQUIRER

October 16, 2025

PARIS – In Paris, something mischievous is taking shape. Three years after launching Reyna, her first dedicated restaurant, Filipina chef Erica Paredes has unveiled her latest venture. Set on Rue Gravilliers, a lively stretch in the heart of Le Marais, Mischief has opened its doors.

The queen of mischief

Paredes’ journey in the French capital began humbly, hosting intimate supper clubs out of her apartment, where she first defined her culinary style. Word spread quickly, and soon, a seat at her table became difficult to come by. Those evenings laid the foundation for all that would follow.

From the outset, she draws a clear line between the two concepts. At Reyna, her cooking is deeply rooted in her upbringing, an exploration of flavors and nuances that celebrate her heritage. “I always say that Reyna is for my culture,” she says.

Rather than focusing on strict authenticity, the restaurant borrows broadly from Philippine cuisine, leaning on familiar spices and components, recast in forms less common to the local dining scene. Over time, her inventive takes on the classics—sinigang, kare-kare, and fried chicken among them—have emerged as signatures, earning her praise abroad for bringing the soul of Filipino food to new audiences.

In turn, Mischief sets off in a different direction—signaling the next stage in her evolution as a Filipina chef in Paris. As Paredes puts it, the two ventures are cut from the same cloth, but like all siblings, each has its own character.

In Paris, a Filipina chef is cooking up mischief

Oyster po’boy bao

“When you say ‘mischief,’ it reminds you of a little kid,” she says. “Kids do naughty things that aren’t truly bad, but they might be thinking, ‘Okay, how far can I take this?’” Carrying that energy forward, Paredes dares to serve dishes that feel slightly off-center. Yet despite her free-spirited nature, her experience in fine dining and respect for technique keep her anchored.

Of contrasts and contradictions

This balance defines Mischief, which, for Paredes, is as much a playground as it is a restaurant. She describes herself as “full of contrasts and contradictions,” a chef who thrives on the push and pull between freedom and discipline. In her kitchen, ideas are tested, tweaked, and polished with that sensibility. And although she continues to infuse Southeast Asian influences into her work, the menu resists being bound to any single region or cuisine. Instead, it revolves around indulgence—and the joy that follows.

Consider the polenta fries that took more than 30 hours to make. A playful nod to Paredes’ lifelong love of Cheetos, they arrive coated in a house-made vintage cheddar powder, then finished with a generous drizzle of ranch. Next are the esquites—Mexican street corn off the cob—reimagined with a trout aburi that lends a smoky counterpoint to the corn’s natural sweetness.

In Paris, a Filipina chef is cooking up mischief

Esquites

In Paris, a Filipina chef is cooking up mischief

Polenta fries

“My cooking is very layered,” she explains. “And I like to experiment with texture.” On the plate, the elements may appear straightforward, yet each is the product of meticulous preparation.

That same propensity for contrasts carries into the restaurant’s interiors, where earthy meets industrial and vibrant balances muted. Sleek yet textured details convey both ease and sophistication—qualities Paredes was especially intent on achieving in the design. An intentional blend of materials, from terracotta walls to steel countertops, reinforces this impression.

A nod to ’90s nostalgia

Her teenage years in the ’90s informed much of what she now considers good, indulgent food. “Nostalgia plays such a huge factor in my creative process,” she says.

On the launch menu, SpaghettiOs make a surprise appearance, infused with Paredes’ signature mix of humor and refinement. The canned, ring-shaped pasta, long a staple in American households, was a childhood favorite—one she later passed on to her daughter. At Mischief, the dish takes on a new life: handmade and served in a tomato-based sauce enriched with bone marrow and anchovy. “I used to make this for my daughter at home,” she shares.

In Paris, a Filipina chef is cooking up mischief

SpaghettiOs

That same instinct for personal expression comes through vividly in her pressé d’agneau—pressed lamb, as the French call it. Inspired by her love of Vietnamese cuisine and the comfort of a steaming bowl of pho, it brings warmth to the table. The lamb is rich and tender, coated in a glossy, meaty sauce, and paired with a chimichurri designed to intensify the brightness of fresh herbs.

In Paris, a Filipina chef is cooking up mischief

Pho

In Paris, a Filipina chef is cooking up mischief

Peach mango cobbler

And for anyone with room for dessert, Paredes serves a peach mango cobbler—her lighthearted twist on Jollibee’s iconic peach mango pie, beloved by Filipinos far and wide. Made with whipped vanilla yogurt and cinnamon toast crunch, each spoonful stirs memories of home.

To complete the experience—and in keeping with local custom—a thoughtful selection of natural wines is always on hand. For Paredes, their bright acidity pairs especially well with her cuisine, cutting through the richness and bringing every flavor into sharper focus.

Unserious dishes, done seriously

At Mischief, Paredes embraces an emotion too often overlooked: fun. “I tell my team, ‘Here, we do unserious dishes seriously,’” she says. It’s this youthful, brazen energy that she channels into her food—and, by extension, to her guests.

Despite her hard-won confidence, Paredes once wrestled with questions of identity. In the early days of her solo career, she faced a familiar dilemma. “Filipinos will think it’s not Filipino enough. And French people will think it’s not exotic enough,” she recalls.

Today, she speaks of a slow but steady shift within herself—free at last from the need to prove anything. “With Mischief, I’m cooking for myself,” she says. “This is me as Erica.”

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