“I think it mainly has to do with the generation of Parisians travelling and coming back to Paris and wanting to experience the same kind of international flavours they have experienced in other cosmopolitan cities,” says cookbook author and TV chef Rachel Khoo who moved to Paris 12 years ago, beginning the supper club in her tiny Paris flat that would lead to her first cookbook in English, The Little Paris Kitchen.

“Paris is a cosmopolitan city like London and New York with an international audience. There's a demand for new innovative ways of eating, from people who have experienced supper clubs elsewhere – you could call it culinary globalisation – or who are simply open to trying out different things,” Khoo says.

Whether it’s Parisians snapping up crumpets and cakes from Marks and Spencer and Pret A Manger, the arrival of a fish and chip shop, The Sunken Chip, near Paris’ trendy Canal St Martin or the sales success of high-end British products like Neal’s Yard cheeses and Tyrrells crisps, British food is having its moment across the channel.

“People in the French food industry used to play it quite safe and although that has changed a lot in the last ten years in Paris, with a wave of international chefs opening their own places, we were willing to take risks because our schtick from the beginning at Le Bal was to do modern British food,” Quillet says.

Another British woman, Rose Carrarini, opened the Rose Bakery on the rue des Martyrs in 2003. “It was a project to bring simple fresh foods, mainly organic, to a Paris that wasn't doing anything like this,” Carrarini says. “There was a complacency in cafes and restaurants at that time, chefs sticking to the good old formulas and serving uncreative foods. There was a little hesitation and scepticism on the part of Parisians but within three months we were working well and continued to please.”

Khoo also shrugged off the “rosbif” jibes to whip up contemporary versions of classic French dishes for her supper club diners. Her non-French background helped when she was starting out in France. “I felt that because I didn't have any history with French food that I could cook the way I wanted – ripping up the rule book and playing with different flavours and techniques,” Khoo says. “It was liberating having that kind of freedom. I think the pressure of having such a renowned culinary heritage can carry the burden of high expectations sometimes,” she adds. “I remember having a few Parisian friends say that my version of French classics reminded them of a modern take on their grandma’s dishes.”