My Gastronomical Journey

It is an easy task to talk about cuisine and my profession, while it is also complicated.

Let’s start at the very beginning.

First of all, I have to say that I have always considered school a terrible place as well as any other kind of institution in general, be it military or anything else. My father had mapped out my whole career as soon as I had finished primary school: secondary school, Latin… but what is it good for?

After my lingering for two years at secondary school he had to admit to himself that his plan wouldn’t work out, and eventually he asked me the question: “What do you want to do?” At last I could tell him: I want to become a hairdresser. He was absolutely shocked by this, so that I was forced to tell him something more acceptable: a cook! Thus I joined the school of gastronomy in the good old city of Liège for the next 5 years to come.

After finishing school I started my working life without much enthusiasm. Then I met the chef who was to give me the push I needed, teaching me how to recognize and elaborate passionately fine raw materials.

All this, by the way, I did not find difficult to do, since cooking has always been an important thing to my folks. My father’s mother was Spanish, my father’s father was Italian, on my mother’s side I have had peasant ancestors who made diverse kinds of cheese, butter, and a delicious cake which the region of Vervier has come to be famous for.

Then life went on in a normal way. I was employed at excellent restaurants, at first as “comis de cuisine”, with the two- Michelin-star Jean Cawé at the „ L’hostellerie Saint Roch”, where for a year – before there was a vacancy in the kitchen – I worked as a waiter: serving wines and cheese – I remember, there was a wonderful service car for all kinds of cheese.

When 27, I was employed for the first time as a chef, in the Ardennes, at a fantastic little restaurant – and from then on I easily stepped forward, being set in charge of kitchens of invariable excellence.

I several times ventured abroad, spending various periods of time at restaurants of Paris and of the adored Périgord – also at the kitchen of the two-Michelin-star great Roland Mazere in the Le Centenaire. And I happened to spend three years under the spell of an island in the Caribbean.

It is almost 10 years now that on 15 August 2001 I arrived in Hungary, without work or any knowledge of the language, yet full of enthusiasm I instantly started my first little restaurant in Esztergom, which after 3 years was able to move to Budapest.

The dishes made in my kitchen are such as I like eating myself, the way they appeal to me. What you need most in cooking is love: since cooking means sharing your best with others, giving the best from one’s own. The love of vegetables, seasons, and meat is of the same importance, and on seeing the nice raw materials I feel the same thing: let them be shared with others, as if I said: look how beautiful they are; behold how generous nature is with us!

The story wouldn’t be complete without mentioning my dog Maci. During the construction of the Budapest restaurant I was looking after the dog of a friend of mine. When it was time and I had to give the dog back to her, I felt terribly lonely. I started to look for a dog that was a bit like me, and I did find it – the Tibetan terrier. At a vet’s quarters, who hosted abandoned dogs, I found Maci, who has not left me ever since.

Philippe