Never Too Late for the Language of Food

My path to the kitchen wasn’t straightforward. For more than a decade, I taught Chinese literature after completing a PhD. I loved it, but around thirty-five, I felt a void, a sense that I needed to try something else before it was too late. That’s when I stepped into a small, traditional restaurant kitchen in Lyon for the first time. The rhythm was brutal, I had no technique, and I was juggling garde-manger and pastry. But it taught me the essentials: discipline, mise en place, and how to breathe under pressure.

The spark, though, began much earlier. As a child, I watched a family friend arrive on Sundays with bags of groceries. She would cook for us, letting me taste everything, teaching me the foundations of classic French cuisine. It felt like having another grandmother, and it planted the seed of a passion that never left me.

I studied basic culinary arts, a six-month training program, and then transitioned directly into the field. Since then, my path has been shaped by the people I’ve met. A pastry chef who had worked for a decade in a three-star restaurant showed me that pastry was not just recipes, but harmony, pairing, and endless curiosity. Another mentor reminded me, at a moment when I nearly quit, “Don’t overthink it, just do it. If it works, continue. If it doesn’t, start again.” Those words still guide me.

For me, the kitchen is a place of creation and exchange, a tool to mold ideas, but also a space to share knowledge and build together. Transmission is vital. I’ve almost walked away from this world several times, but each time, passion pulls me back. Cooking without sharing has no purpose.

The proudest moment of my career has been opening my own restaurant, @mofusan_lyon. Seeing people happy, receiving excellent reviews, and creating a space where young cooks want to learn, that recognition means more than any title. Teaching occasionally at culinary schools, passing on techniques, feels like a responsibility, but also a gift.

I have been cooking for ten years, and during this time, I have met many wonderful people, as well as some who were not so great. Nevertheless, it has been an enriching journey that has taught me so much about humanity, sharing, teaching, and learning. Everything is intense and concentrated all the time, and it never ends. The best reward I can receive is seeing someone enjoy one of my meals.

What I want for the future of this industry is transparency, humility, and true collaboration. Less ego, more openness. More chefs are stepping out of the kitchen to connect with the people they cook for. Because food is not just nourishment, it’s a conversation. And for me, every plate is an invitation to share.

Photo credits to @mchlm.photo