: during a peaceful winter afternoon in Noto
I imagined this dish during a cold winter morning, I wanted to express a specific feeling, like a picking under the snow, a hard harvest, because despite the cold, life continues to grow. I feel that we must welcome these gifts of nature with even more humility and deference, that these fruits, vegetables and fish have deployed an incredible energy to withstand the harsh climate and still offer themselves to us.
In this plate, beyond the analysis and the intuition necessary for its composition, I am guided by my somewhat abstract desire to put all this life back at warm.
A bit like a nest, a silky cocoon
In Japan, winters are harsh, even icy if you go to the north of Honshu and to Hokkaido. On the way, the world slows down and freezes with the degrees lost, as if the snow weighed down life, imposing its monochrome poetry and forcing people to live slowly,
It is then necessary to move away from the cities, to experience the flow of time in the void, to lose oneself in the immensity of white, to understand the silence.
This fascination for white, snowy landscapes, is a universal emotion, I have often wondered why it brings us together.
Strangely enough, while searching for the answer to this question, I thought of a language, sensory, audible to all.
There is a language specific to this buried nature, a mute language, a little death without mourning adorned with white, a promise of return to life.
