Sacko is French by birth, though his mother, who is from the Ivory Coast, grew up in Senegal and met his father in Mali. Meanwhile, Japan has been an obsession ever since he began poring over Manga comics as a teenager. The cross-continental fusion – although Sacko dislikes that word and prefers instead to call himself “open” to ideas and influences – means you might end up tasting foie gras Ebene, a grilled morsel of foie gras served with a Cameroonian black tomato mbongo tchobi sauce, a chunk of cuttlefish and a dollop of Japanese shiso vinegar.

Then again, you might not. The menus change daily and are never publicised. The diverse diners lap up tasting menus that range in price from €55 to €110 (£46 to £92). “We have young black people like me, who are going to have their first gastronomic experience,” says Sacko. “We have people who follow starred restaurants and are curious to try our food. We have retirees who watch my cooking shows, some locals and a mix of tourists. It’s great to see, because I put a lot of myself into it. I put a lot of my story into it.”

Many of them ask for his popular take on yassa chicken, a Senegalese dish of lemon-marinated chicken served with crispy onions – a childhood favourite, which Sacko’s mother used to cook for him and his eight brothers and sisters. “It’s a dish I love because my mother made it every so often at home and it always reminds me of her,” the chef says.

While his mother was his first inspiration in the kitchen, his mentor, Mr Thierry Marx, one of France’s most feted chefs, is the person he credits with transforming him from a cook into a chef. Having left school at 14 to study hospitality, Sacko eventually won Marx’s respect as his sous-chef at the two-Michelin-star restaurant Sur Mesure at the Mandarin Oriental. Next, Marx gave Sacko the freedom at his other restaurant, Le Camélia, to experiment with recipes, particularly Japanese flavours. He also instilled in him the importance of putting your team’s wellbeing first.

“He taught me that it’s better to work in an atmosphere of calm,” Sacko says of Marx. “There is no crying, no stress in my kitchen.” If there were, he knows he’d be finished. The new generation won’t accept a toxic workplace. “The old tough, strict, military-style way of doing things is gradually disappearing,” he says.

As befits the talisman of this new generation, Sacko is busy building his profile beyond the four walls of his restaurant. In February last year, he debuted as the host of TV series Cuisine Ouverte (“Open Kitchen”) in addition to building a restaurant empire. A star in his native France, he has almost 250,000 Instagram followers, largely thanks to Top Chef, the French edition of the popular cooking show, on which he was a recent contestant. Cuisine Ouverte, a programme in which he flits around France cooking seasonal food alongside famous guest chefs, has been a big hit. An episode that aired in September drew in a record 1.8 million viewers and he has been busy recording another series of the show.

It’s a “boucler à boucle” moment for Sacko, a favourite phrase that translates as “full circle”. He employs it several times, to sum up how meaningful it is to be a television host after a childhood spent watching MasterChef and Oui, Chef!, a French version of Jamie’s Kitchen with Mr Cyril Lignac.

“For me, watching cooking on TV, cooking while watching TV – the two are intimately linked,” Sacko says. Though he never invited the attention, he is proud to be a role model, particularly for young people of colour who have too often been overlooked and exploited by the French food scene. “When I was training, I didn’t have a role model,” he says. “It didn’t exist for me. I think it’s important to have role models who demonstrate the values of hard work, respect and humility.”

He’s getting used to his celebrity and being accosted on the Métro by selfie-hunters, though it sets a high bar. “I can’t screw up!” he says. “I have to stay serious. But my parents always keep me in check.”

His success is all the more impressive given that the pandemic closed his restaurant just two months after it opened. Nevertheless, he used the confinement to experiment and offered an affordable takeaway service, christened MoSugo. He insists he isn’t naturally competitive, though he clearly has drive. He prefers to be labelled an optimist. “But I’m also very curious and I’m determined always to do my best,” he says. “If my back is against the wall, I will always give more.”

He looks sheepish when I ask how he avoids burn-out and the industry’s famously punishing hours. Life is made easier by living directly above the restaurant and he enjoys watching Paris Saint-Germain games in his rare moments of down time. He finds real relaxation when he’s experimenting with food. “When I’m in the kitchen, I don’t feel like I’m working,” he says. “It’s a bit contradictory, but if I take an hour to test something new in the kitchen, it recharges my batteries.”

He credits his partner with keeping him on track, and is grateful for her support. “She makes it easier for me to do my job,” he says. As for his ultimate meal? It’s a boucler à boucle moment again. “It doesn’t matter what it is,” he smiles, “as long as my mother made it.”