A Farberia
Born from the slow craft of Parisian dawn — flour, water, time, and a fountain pen left on the counter.
Every meal is hand-crafted twice — once in the kitchen by our chefs, once on paper by our resident artists. Walk inside a living monochrome sketchbook.

"The crust still warm, the ink still wet."
We are an illustrator and a pâtissier sharing one room in the sixth arrondissement. The kitchen and the studio share the same ethic: high contrast, zero filler, devotion to the essential.
Born from the slow craft of Parisian dawn — flour, water, time, and a fountain pen left on the counter.
The walls became a sketchbook. Every guest, every dish, every quiet morning — sketched, signed, hung.
Today the café opens to you. Bring a pencil. Leave a mark. Take a croissant home.

A study in contrast. Squid-ink brioche, 28-day dry-aged beef, white truffle aioli, aged gruyère, and a side of graphite-salted hand-cut fries.

"Quiet Sketch Corner"
Window light · Solitude
Four moods, four corners. Tap a seat to make it yours. A small café cat may join you uninvited — she has been here longer than the menu.
Walking in felt like opening a sketchbook someone left on a Parisian table.
The truffle burger is dangerous. I drew it three times before I dared bite.
Their espresso has the bitterness of good ink and the warmth of an old letter.
Reserve your seat. Choose your mood. We'll set the page.