Hugo Marchand

I spent twelve years in restaurant kitchens, where a plate could be beautiful and the person eating it might as well have been in another building. The moment I cared about most—watching someone take the first bite—was the part I never saw.

So now four guests sit at my kitchen counter while I cook. You can ask what is burning, taste a sauce before I fix it, or simply drink your wine and watch. There is no participation required and no swinging door between us.

My most requested dish is still the grilled cheese I make for friends after midnight.