Le Comptoir de Beaulieu Lausanne: Review & First Look

Intimidating and eccentric, Beaulieu nevertheless dreams of embodying the future gastronomic heart of Lausanne. To achieve this, the City threw the hot potato to two crazy people who were gifted and daring enough to defy the impossible. Good news: the very first plates of this surprising “Comptoir de Beaulieu” are worth beating your ass on the floor. Immersion.

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Beaulieu. His concrete dress, his clumsy build, his unsavory location. It’s simple: the people of Lausanne sometimes venture there on show evenings, when there is ballet, theater or interactive exhibition, but don’t ask much more of them.

In the past, we lugged the kids there on Sundays to swallow a sausage and pet a cow, in the mazes of a Comptoir Suisse unplugged in 2018, at its 99th edition, too tired to wait for its centenary.

It must also be said that the Lausannois is a dirty beast. Ready to jump on a TGV to get to know the umpteenth stupid Parisian concept, he considers Ouchy a tourist wart and everything that spills over from Place Bel-Air as the asshole of the world.

So, when we learned that the City wanted him to travel regularly to Beaulieu just to eat, we giggled a little. You might as well suggest to a young couple that they organize their wedding on a Belarusian highway rest area.

And then, usually, let’s be frank, we are a little wary of addresses which, on their website, impose their very fashionable “philosophy” on us, full of commonplaces such as “terroir”, “authentic”, “living”, “sharing” or even “respect for the product”. As if, in 2026, we could still open a “contemporary brasserie” promising frozen hake sticks and a dirty atmosphere.

Like mice caught in a trap, we are seated at the aptly named Comptoir de Beaulieu, where for three years, the Quintino restaurant served Italian cuisine that was far from disgusting.

It’s Friday evening.
It’s 6:44 p.m.
The place is deserted.

Bad sign? A tad.

Lurking in the den, the bartender fine-tunes his artillery, the waitress adjusts for the umpteenth time already very well aligned napkins. In the speakers, the playlist spits old French variety. The paint is still fresh. The chandeliers are impressive. On the walls, superb vintage posters from Comptoir suisse dust off the glory of yesteryear. First in a series of good surprises: it’s very beautiful. Succeeding in making something cozy in a shed as cold as winter is a challenge.

We are welcomed with a smile on our lips and a cocktail in our belts. It’s vintage. The menu is tempting, ambitious and regional, ranging from “Lausanne Sour” to “Soleil sur Beaulieu”. No potion crosses the psychological boundary of 18 francs. We set our sights on a Mezcal Tonka Negroni which declares itself “smoky, woody, sensual and captivating”.

Just that.

At Comptoir de Beaulieu, only cocktails are allowed to smoke inside.image: watson

A good pick and an emerging intoxication which urges us to deflower the major work: the eating. Here, you have to be careful, because reading the menu can cause some damage to the optic nerves. Not only are the dishes nestled in a bold Vaudois dialect, but their description does not say much about the happiness to come.

On the starting line, five starters, six main courses and three desserts with fucking unpronounceable names. Once the tongue is trodden by pronouncing for example “COÛRJA. FU.” (to order the burnt pumpkin, accompanied by a butternut risotto and its nasturtium zabaglione), you will quickly understand that it is a taste adventure, of rare finesse and ingenuity, which will make your jaw drop.

Because beneath this layer of bobo-punk poetry, which deliberately misleads its guests, lies a veritable labyrinth of flavors that it is in fact vain to try to resolve. Here, everything is designed so that we let ourselves be carried away by intuition, without burying the staff with questions that would dampen the atmosphere.

“Let’s get started”, as they say, so we’ll throw ourselves into the beef tartare and trout roe, served in tacos, as well as the open féra ravioli. Afterwards? The steak, its meat juice, its béarnaise, its gnudi, but also the toasted crozets, mushrooms, roasted vegetable juice, hazelnuts.

While a couple finally breaks our solitude by bursting into the brasserie, a loaf of sourdough bread, pampered on site, is offered to us. Without polite words, but accompanied by a pat of butter which preserves all its secrets. We might as well tell you that this wonderful appetizer would be capable of eradicating gluten intolerance from the face of the planet.

Hello you.image: watson

8:37 p.m., the first glasses are empty and the music has still not crossed the (painful) border of the 80s.

We are then advised to have a Viognier Sélection from the 13 Coteaux cellar, which we accept with our eyes closed and our mouths open, as the starters tumble forth. Before our eyes, suddenly, an architectural competition and an avalanche of colors.

Image/: watson

Hungry, we throw ourselves without the slightest kind of education on this strange ravioli as complex as it is brutally delicious. Ambition rubs shoulders with a certain madness, as when, on the plate opposite, an irresistible veal stock comes greedily to flow between the beef and its mustard seeds worked into the body.

A very Vaudois rock’n roll and po audacity which will be increased tenfold in “LO GROS”, as they say, namely the main courses: a steak which does not say its name and crozets made into surprising lasagnes.

Yes, entrecôte, ladies & gentlemen.image: watson

Unsurprisingly, it will be the same with desserts, from this double cream meringue that comes forward with disheveled hair, to the indecent marriage of apple and celery.

It’s so good to see the terroir let loose the dogs, that we find ourselves looking at the menu once again, to make sure we don’t have to release the 2nd pillar to indulge in this veritable riot of talent.

Once released from the kitchen, the culprit will admit to us that it is indeed a bit of a headache to imagine such dishes, at the price of a stupid late plate in a crowded bar in the city center.

It looks like a Chanel fashion show, right?image: watson

What did a Bocuse d’or finalist and a green star in the Michelin Guide come to look for in the gray suburbs of Lausanne? Benjamin Le Maguet, 35 years old, self-taught trained in tare, the bust carved by professional swimming and the somewhat shifty gaze of the rough-hewn artist, knows that he accepted a perilous mission by setting down his pots in Beaulieu.

After slamming the door of the famous family gastronomic restaurant in Les Évouettes a year ago, his explosive meeting with Jasmine Gfeller, the vibrant creator of restaurants in the region, set everything in motion. Here are now “two slightly crazy hyperactive people”, who find themselves charged by the City of Lausanne with offering a little good fat to this imposing Congress center.

Because the Comptoir de Beaulieu brasserie is the first discreet step in a noisy metamorphosis announced as the gastronomic and creative playground for the epicureans of the future.

In 2027, they promise us a multidisciplinary food court, deployed in the vast halls next door, able to accommodate up to 1,500 stomachs and where around ten ephemeral stalls will come to spin the pans in turns.

Even if the City secures the project, the challenge is significant, because it will be necessary to find the recipe that will attract these pesky Lausanne residents (but not only that). A cheeky and, until now, unprecedented ambition. The key question remains: does the Olympic capital need a hub dedicated to food, like those found in Paris, London or New York? Should we give Comptoir suisse a future that it already no longer had in 2018? Benjamin and Jasmine are convinced of this.

After a last espresso and an Amaretto on the rocks, we leave this new brasserie with a full heart and a happy stomach (unless it’s the other way around?). If this pair certainly does not lack talent, they will have to work hard to bring the guests back to Beaulieu. And, by the way, review the playlist and throw this old French variety back in the closet. Deal?

Northern lights illuminated Switzerland

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Northern lights illuminated Switzerland

source: reader