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Like a lot of people in Paris, Adrian Moore is obsessed with food. He also has a taste for writing, as evidenced by his blog “Not a Gastronomic Circlejerk,” where he recounts his gourmet adventures in the City of Light. But although he’s gained a loyal following in cyberspace and picked up regular freelance stints for travel guides, Moore’s life as a foodie is not enough to lure him away from the duties of his regular job.
By day, and often by night, Moore is a concierge at the Georges V Four Seasons Hotel. Which means he sources Birkin bags, elusive fashion show invitations and personal tours of Coco Chanel’s private apartments. For top clients, he’s even managed to import an entire showroom on occasion. In fact, Moore, who was born in Canada to British parents, is so skilled at fulfilling guests’ every wish that British magazine Monocle voted him Best Concierge in the World.
This story first appeared in the March 2, 2009 issue of WWD. Subscribe Today.
“I like to think I’m just doing my job,” he says. “I’m a people person, so helping out comes easily. Sometimes it’s just a matter of helping [clients] make up their own minds.”
Moore’s gig as a concierge has its perks. It’s an ideal perch for getting the inside scoop on gourmet goings-on around the city. Some of the stories he’s currently tracking are right under his nose: the arrival at Le Cinq of two-star chef Eric Briffard, whom hotel management hopes will reclaim a third star for its restaurant. Others are further afield. Moore is also following Jadis, voted best bistro of the year by guide “Le Fooding”; Glou in the 3rd arrondissement, whose owner is the director of Cuisine TV, and the upcoming arrival of American wunderchef Daniel Rose’s new Spring, which is decamping from the 9th to larger quarters in a new arrondissement.
When he’s not at his post at the hotel, Moore says he spends more time in restaurants than doing anything else, “which means I also spend a lot of time trying not to let my passion drive me into debt,” he laughs.
But falling into debt isn’t a worry for everyone, even these days, and scoring a table at some of the city’s top restaurants still takes work. “Sometimes I have to explain to [restaurants] that the Russian clients I’m trying to book for are going to drop 60,000 euros for dinner,” he says. And he’s not kidding: “A couple bottles of 1947 Cheval Blanc and there you are.”