In France, Pierre Gagnaire has the reputation of a mad culinary genius, risk taker, and poet. He’s a creator who often changes his recipes in the middle of the dinner service. His frenetic energy in the kitchen is legendary, although, after nearly five decades in the service of French gastronomy, he seems to have calmed down a bit.
Gagnaire, who comes from a family of restaurateurs, was brought up in Saint-Étienne, just outside of Lyon. His father, also a chef, owned a Michelin-starred restaurant called Le Clos Fleuri, and, as the oldest child, Gagnaire was expected to follow in his footsteps—and so he started his apprenticeship as a pastry chef when he was fourteen, and then spent a summer at Paul Bocuse’s restaurant in Lyon.
At eighteen, Gagnaire served his compulsory military service as a chef in the French navy. He loved it: “On a boat everyone is important, even the cooks—the food is very important. This life on the sea gave me the spirit that I have never experienced elsewhere,” he recalls.
It might have also given him a taste of adventure. He stayed long enough in Paris to work at the InterContinental hotel and meet his first wife. Then the couple went to the United States, spending two years hitchhiking from Quebec to Acapulco before ending up in San Francisco, where Gagnaire intended to put down roots. His family had other plans, though. After a few months of constant cajoling under the pretext that his father was sick, his mother convinced him to come back to Saint-Étienne to take over the family restaurant in 1976.
That had its challenges, including friction with family members and a near constant state of fatigue from being the head chef. Still, Gagnaire began to attract attention. In 1978, an excellent review from a local critic (he went gaga over a lightly poached Saint Pierre fish with mild peppers) made him realize that cooking could be a way of expressing himself artistically and give meaning to his life, something he had never considered. Before this, he’d seen cooking as a way to escape his family.
To the consternation of his parents, he struck out on his own in 1981. He left the family business with no money and two kids. “It was a painful moment—my parents had invested so much in me. It was a loss, I felt very guilty, but it was clearly my liberation. I had to confront my family, and cooking helped me open a door onto something new,” he says now.
In his typical take-no-prisoners style, he put everything of himself into his new restaurant, restoring a 1930s villa at great expense and filling it with contemporary art. Gagnaire took the guests’ orders in the dining room, cooked, and then served them, often forgetting the original order in the process. His spontaneous cooking style led to the publication of his first cookbook, Immediate Cuisine, and three Michelin stars for his restaurant.
Success came to an end in 1996. Because of a slowing economy and a lack of high-end clientele, Gagnaire was forced to close his restaurant. He was ten million francs in debt, so he sold off all his beloved artwork and his magnificent wine cellar, and contemplated his future.
Luckily, help arrived from friends of friends, and he found a space in Paris at the Hôtel Balzac, whose proprietors were looking to replace their ailing Italian restaurant. The rent was affordable, the address perfectly positioned in a neighborhood close to well-to-do locals and tourists, and Gagnaire finally found his artistic home. Within two years, the virtuoso reclaimed his three Michelin stars.
CURRENT HOMETOWN: Paris, France
RESTAURANT THAT MADE HIS NAME: Pierre Gagnaire, Saint-Étienne, France
SIGNATURE STYLE: French fusion—combining unexpected flavors, textures, and ingredients
BEST KNOWN FOR: Best Chef in the World by Le Chef magazine (2015), and his many Michelin-starred restaurants all over the world, including Pierre Gagnaire in Paris
FRIDGE: DeDietrich
The chef, who lives in the tony 16th arrondissement with writer Sylvie Le Bihan, his wife of fifteen years, and his extended family, spends most of his day at work. “My career takes up ninety percent of my time,” he explains. “To be serious, you have to be in your kitchen.” For instance, he hardly eats at home, and, for one of the most inventive chefs in the world, his simple kitchen and the contents of his refrigerator are surprisingly normal. There is cheese and charcuterie, cornichon pickles, and a comforting roast chicken. A lonely bottle of sriracha and some nuoc mam are the only things remotely exotic.
That simplicity is deceptive, though. The chef is a master, able to whip up an inspired lunch in no time. For the meal he made during our interview, he began with sole fillets, which he quickly breaded in the bottom of a loaf pan since he couldn’t find a better container. Suddenly, he noticed there were leftover vegetables in the pan, so he stood up and whipped up a creamy side dish with the extra bitter greens. He then rummaged through the fridge for more inspiration until he came upon a bottle of sweet chili sauce—and in went a spoon of that. Et voilà! He sat back down with a satisfied smile and a playful look in his eye as he proceeded to explain the contents of his refrigerator.
- SWEET CHILI SAUCE, SPRING ROLL SAUCE, SRIRACHA, NUOC MAM
- YOGURT
- BUTTER
- PRESERVED LEMONS—“They are made at my restaurant. I might use them in a fish recipe, with some of the charcuterie and grilled mushrooms.”
- SOLE
- LEFTOVER MANGO
- BLACK TRUFFLES
- EGGS—“My wife buys these at the supermarket. She goes every eight days or so, depending on her mood.”
- CHERRY TOMATOES
- BABY SPINACH
- APPLESAUCE
- GROUND BEEF PATTIES
- ROAST CHICKEN—“My wife cooked this the day before for dinner. Cooking bores her.”
- CARROT SALAD, from the vegetable market
- RADICCHIO
- POTATO AU GRATIN
- PUNTARELLE—“My wife shops for vegetables at a nearby market that has a great vegetable selection.”
- RIBEYE STEAK
- APPLESAUCE
- HEINEKEN—“These belong to my wife’s son. If I drink beer I don’t drink this one. I prefer better ones like Belgian beers.”
- CUCUMBER, SPINACH, CARROTS
Q & A
Your home seems quite busy this morning. Yes, we just moved here. We wanted a smaller place, as some of the kids have moved out. My wife, Sylvie, has three children, who were living with us before, and I have two children and four grandchildren. Today there is my wife’s daughter and her son, who is home with a sore throat. When I met my wife, she was living in London. I fell madly in love and I brought us all together under one roof in Paris. We are a reconstituted family that works really well. I travel a lot, so she was able to take care of her kids as she wanted.
Your fridge looks like it serves a lot of people. We also have a garde-manger on the windowsill. We keep cheese in there.
Who cooks at home? Sylvie. She isn’t a foodie and I think that’s good. I wouldn’t be able to be with someone else who was hysterical about food.
When do you cook for the family? I cook when we are on vacation. And my wife is happy about that. I have a house in Belle-Île-en-Mer, and there I cook quite often.
Your Paris kitchen seems quite spartan as well for a three-starred Michelin chef with restaurants all over the world. Our life isn’t modest—I won’t exaggerate. But we have a modest kitchen. It’s not a Bulthaup [a German kitchen manufacturer]; it’s not sponsored. It’s actually an Ikea kitchen. I am lucky to be independent. I am a free man—it’s very important to me.
What do you eat at home? I always eat at the restaurant. I eat dinner by myself after the last service. It’s often the moment when I reflect. Then after, I often speak with the cooks or maybe with a client. I travel a lot so when I am in Paris I want to be at the restaurant. Of course I would like to go home, more than before actually. But I am a professional. I enjoy what I do but it’s a career.
Any late-night snacks? Never charcuterie. That is the quickest way to put on weight. If I let myself have a little something after dinner, it is most often a cigar.
What do you eat for breakfast? It’s very simple—lots of coffee followed by lots of tea.