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As the great-granddaughter, granddaughter and daughter of mainly female chefs, my destiny had been laid down for me. And I took it as a challenge. On the one hand to wrong foot all those who said that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth and, on the other, to show that a woman could be a fully-fledged chef. My father had the good idea of teaching me about produce before I started using it: the butcher’s, the fishmonger’s... Then I trained with Pique Pierre in Grenoble, Outhier in La Napoule, La Marée in Paris, Gaertner in Ammerschwihr. The desire to be independent sent me off to New York. I grew up in a house with a female culinary tradition where we were used to expressing our opinions without them being challenged. Then I worked in male brigades where there were prejudices against female points of view and I often felt that I was not being taken seriously. That helped build my personality. I create a seasonal cuisine, with fine fresh produce which is honest, generous, has some character and a sense of humour. I want to get back to the way that older generations felt about food. But, at the same time, I put the stamp of my own personality on it and make it creative and daring.
In the simplest way possible: on the bone, à la meunière with a high-quality butter.
I was born by the water, on the shores of Lake Annecy, and I get my fish from a neighbor who’s a professional fisherman. There’s a legend about the lake crayfish that dates back to my grandfather Marius: we used to keep our crayfish in ponds. One day an apprentice forgot to close the gate, and our stock of crayfish took off into the lake…