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Tokyo Weekender
29-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Tokyo Weekender
Narisawa: Where Foraged Flavors Become Culinary Art
This article appeared in Tokyo Weekender Vol. 2, 2025. To read the entire issue, click here . Tucked away in an unassuming nook of the elegant neighborhood of Aoyama, Narisawa (stylized as NARISAWA) is an experimental fine dining restaurant acclaimed for its innovative and cerebral approach to sustainable cuisine. Narisawa's omakase-style menu fuses a variety of culinary techniques with the Japanese concept of satoyama. Traditionally, satoyama refers to rural landscapes where humans live in harmony with nature; in recent years, it has come to symbolize sustainability, a deep respect for the earth and the integration of humans and the natural world. Established by Chef Yoshihiro Narisawa in 2003, the two-Michelin-starred restaurant has earned international recognition for its quality, innovation and commitment to environmentally conscious gourmet dining — securing a Michelin Green Star, 14 consecutive years on the World's Best Restaurants list and numerous other accolades. Chef Narisawa A Pioneer of Fine Dining Narisawa grew up in the restaurant industry; it was a path he always wanted to follow. 'My family ran a restaurant, and I was constantly surrounded by delicious food bringing smiles to people's faces,' he says. 'I knew I wanted to inspire the same joy as a chef.' The chef's journey to become a master of his craft wasn't a straightforward one. Though Tokyo is today seen as one of the world's most glittering culinary capitals, with a whopping 183 Michelin-starred eateries, the city's fine dining scene didn't always possess its current abundance of cultural influences. At just 19 years old, Narisawa was among a group of bright-eyed Japanese chefs who ventured abroad during the bubble economy to train under foreign connoisseurs. What they brought back formed the basis for the explosion of tastes we associate with Tokyo today. 'I started my training in traditional Japanese cuisine before heading to Europe, where I felt I could gain more insight into the intricate, storied sphere of fine dining,' Narisawa explains. Throughout the late 80s and early 90s, he studied under some of the world's most revered chefs — including culinary legends Paul Bocuse and Joël Robuchon. In Harmony With Land and Sea Returning to Japan in 1996 after a transformative tenure in France, Italy and Switzerland, Narisawa opened his first French-inspired restaurant, La Napoule, in Kanagawa. It was only after he established his eponymous restaurant in Tokyo — originally named Les Créations de Narisawa — that the chef encountered satoyama culture and began to develop his signature culinary philosophy. While hand-selecting ingredients for his restaurant menu at a mountaintop farm in Nagano Prefecture, Narisawa was struck by the incredible quality of vegetables grown at an altitude of 1,000 meters, which some might assume to be unfavorable conditions. 'The location experiences drastic temperature changes between day and night, but this uncompromising climate is what cultivates the rich, uniquely delicious flavors of its produce,' Narisawa explains. This experience was formative for him, revealing the profound and complex relationship between the forces of nature and his work as a chef. 'I gained a new appreciation for the tremendous impact of the natural environment on our ingredients.' As Narisawa points out, 70% of the Japanese archipelago is covered in forests, meaning that space for cultivation is limited. As such, the people of Japan have always had a deep respect for natural resources and seasonal shifts, using only what they need. Narisawa defines this way of thinking as the heart of satoyama culture. 'Through our innovative satoyama cuisine, we pay homage to the wisdom of our ancestors,' he says. Narisawa Dessert dish 'Camellia and Koji,' which follows the ancestral technique of harnessing camellia ash to cultivate koji mold. The Art of Satoyama Driven by his deep respect for the natural world and a commitment to local ingredients, Narisawa is always exploring new ways to showcase foraged elements in a way that amplifies their inherent flavors. His culinary creations — inventive, intricate and at times astonishingly complex — aim to convey the spirit of nature through a thoughtful harmony of taste and presentation. For instance, the iconic Satoyama Scenery and Essence of the Forest dish uses various wild plants gathered in Ishikawa Prefecture, alongside other traditional Japanese ingredients, to create a gastronomic landscape: 'moss,' 'earth' and 'branches' composed of ingredients like dried tofu residue, bamboo charcoal and candied burdock root. Narisawa extracts the aroma and flavor of thinly shaved cedar and oak wood — a process similar to making dashi soup stock — to create the titular Essence of the Forest, served in a cup on the side. What is truly striking about Narisawa's vision of sustainability is that it extends beyond his culinary philosophy. The chef has been vocal about maintaining a sustainable work-life balance at his restaurant, going against the notoriously long hours and stressful lifestyles of restaurant staff around the world. 'We want to ensure that our staff can work in good health and balance work with family life,' he says. 'We have a closing time of 8 p.m. and have an efficient clean-up process to encourage staff to get proper rest.' This humanistic approach to management ultimately echoes the chef's core objective for the restaurant, which inspired his cooking journey all those years ago. 'We want guests who come to our restaurant to enjoy their meal and leave feeling happy. Simply put, I want to delight people through delicious food,' he states. More Info You can learn more about Chef Narisawa's food journey and recipes in his book Satoyama , photographed by Sergio Coimbra and published by Taschen. Narisawa reservations are available online . Related Posts Inside Den, Designated Asia's Best Restaurant in 2022 Omakase With Attitude at Hashida Tokyo Cucina Diesel Farm: Rustic Italian Cuisine With a High-Fashion Edge
Forbes
25-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Forbes
After A Golden Age Of Influential Chefs In the 1980s And 1990s, Celebrity Chefs In The Past Twenty Years Have Added Little
Portrait of French chef Andre Soltner as he sits at a table in his restaurant, Lutece (249 East 50th ... More Street), New York, New York, 1984. (Photo by) Two weeks ago dozens of illustrious chefs attended a luncheon to pay homage to André Soltner, who died at the age of 93 in January, as an icon of their profession as owner of the New York French restaurant Lutèce. The show of so many colleagues for Soltner was out of respect for a man who never wavered from setting high standards for cuisine and for himself over more than three decades in the kitchen. Soltner was one of those chefs who in the 1980s and 1990s helped American gastronomy garner world-wide recognition that spurred chefs everywhere to break from stultifying molds and to explore regional foods once felt too common to be served in an upscale restaurant. Le célèbre chef cuisinier Paul Bocuse pose, le 24 janvier 2007 pendant le salon Sirha à Chassieu, à ... More l'occasion du concours le Bocuse d'Or, la "plus grande arène gastronomique du monde", qui fête cette année ses 20 ans. Plat de résistance du Salon international de la restauration, de l'hôtellerie et de l'alimentation (Sirha), ce concours de gastronomie, souvent considéré comme le plus prestigieux dans le monde, oppose pendant deux jours 24 équipes au total, de tous les continents. Leur mission: préparer un plat de poisson et un de viande en 5H30... sans se laisser déstabiliser par le millier de spectateurs. AFP PHOTO JEFF PACHOUD (Photo by Jeff PACHOUD / AFP) (Photo by JEFF PACHOUD/AFP via Getty Images) The recognition of chefs as true cultural influencers began in the 1970 when a handful of French cuisiniers like Paul Bocuse, Roger Vergé and Michel Guèrard made news with an exciting style of haute cuisine respectful but not bound to archaic culinary traditions. The U.S. media glorified them as chefs willing to step into the limelight rather than stay in the shadows, which, in turn, led to chefs in America to showcase new ideas that would radically––though tastefully––transform the way we eat, championed by a young cadre of Californians like Alice Waters in Berkeley and Wolfgang Puck in Los Angeles to challenge the idea that chefs rely on frozen and processed foods instead of searching out the very best seasonal provender available, even to paying farmers to grow it. Alice Waters, a Montessori teacher, pioneered California Cuisine in the 1980s. Puck, who wore a baseball cap in the kitchen, created an enticing new, lighter style of casual California dining, including 'gourmet pizzas,' for a Hollywood crowd that made his restaurant Spago celebrated and glamorous. In Boston Jasper White fostered New New England cuisine, based on abundant seafood and vegetables, while in New Orleans chef Paul Prudhomme put highly spiced Cajun food into a national spotlight. In Chicago Rick Bayless of Topolobampo elevated Mexican fare to a true cuisine, while Dean Fearing did the same for Texas cooking at his namesake restaurant in Dallas. Nobu Matsuhisa, first in Beverly Hills, then New York and internationally, set a style of sushi wholly new and put Japanese elegant and sexy. These chefs had enormous impact on American gastronomy and inspired another generation that included Marcus Samuelsson, Mario Batali, Ming Tsai, Bobby Flay and many more. (See my not-at-all comprehensive list of others below.) Wolfgang Puck during Wolfgang Puck Anniversary Celebration at Wolfgang Puck Express in Atlanta, ... More Georgia, United States. (Photo by R. Diamond/WireImage) Meanwhile French chefs working in America came to be considered transformative for their exquisite menus, like Jean-Louis Palladin in Washington DC, Michel Richard and Joachim Splichal in Los Angeles and Daniel Boulud, Eric Ripert and Jean-Georges Vongerichten in New York. An American named Thomas Keller set the bar ever higher with his highly inventive, multi-course California dinners at The French Laundry in Yountville. With the onset of magazines like Bon Appetit and Food & Wine and TV food shows, chefs suddenly became stars, some making Time magazine's Most Influential People' of the year list. NAPA, CALIFORNIA - MAY 28: Chef David Chang participates in a culinary demonstration during the 2023 ... More BottleRock Napa Valley festival at Napa Valley Expo on May 28, 2023 in Napa, California. (Photo by) Yet while became stars and the food media fell over themselves to find the next big name, very few chefs of the last 25 years have had much of an impact on American or global gastronomy beyond show biz pizzazz. David Chang, cast as the 'bad boy' of American chefs for his foul language, dismissal of vegetarian food and litigious nature, opened the innovative, seat-of-the-pants cooking at his New York 12-seat restaurant named Momofuku, with backless stools, daily menus and blasting house music in 2008. Given the torrent of media exposure he received––including several TV shows––investors lined up to give him a global empire of restaurants. These days, after closing a slew of his original restaurants, he is mainly partner in a fast food chain called Fuku with 15 branches, and whatever influence he once had on young chefs seems slight. LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA - FEBRUARY 13: Guy Fieri poses with fans onstage during the Players Tailgate ... More by Bullseye Event Group on February 13, 2022 in Los Angeles, California. (Photo byfor Bullseye Event Group) Certainly Anthony Bourdain had tremendous impact within the industry, but not as a chef, which he left behind after becoming a media star; rather he became a food-focused travel guide on TV, and no one has come along to replace him since his suicide in 2018. So, too, Guy Fieri burst upon the scene with a clown-like act, not as a chef, and he, too, became a chain restaurant entrepreneur. And I doubt anyone who credit Gordon Ramsay with putting any positive spin on his profession. DUBAI, UNITED ARAB EMIRATES - JANUARY 20: In this image released on January 21, 2023, Chef Jose ... More Andres captured at their new restaurant Jaleo during the Grand Reveal Weekend of Dubai's new ultra-luxury resort, Atlantis The Royal on January 20, 2023 in Dubai, United Arab Emirates. (Photo byfor Atlantis The Royal) One has only to look at the lists of great and promising chefs given awards by the James Beard Foundation since the 1990s through 2005, in which the 'Rising Star' candidates and winners included young chefs who themselves became highly influential chefs, including Michael Mina, Marcus Samuelsson, Todd English, Douglas Rodriguez, Grant Achatz, Nancy Silverton, José Andres and Bobby Flay who have mentored so many more. But in recent years there have been few chosen by the Foundation's vague criteria a chef 'who set high culinary standards and has served as a positive example for other food professionals.' For this year's upcoming 2025 awards there are some extremely talented chefs on the list, including Gabriel Kreuther, Suzette Gresham-Tognetti and Jungsik Yin, but none, at least not yet, has had any impact on American gastronomy, even within their respective cities. Most seem chosen merely for geographic and ethnic diversity––Ann Ahmed, Khâluna, Minneapolis, MN; Francis Guzmán, Vianda, San Juan, PR; Sarah Minnick, Lovely's Fifty Fifty, Portland, OR; or Ricky Moore, Saltbox Seafood Joint, Durham, NC––but outside those regions is there really reason to believe they will have any impact on other food professionals or American gastronomy overall? Chef and television personality Gordon Ramsay, circa 1999. (Photo by Julian Barton/TV Times/Future ... More Publishing via Getty Images) The Golden Age of great chefs in America was born out of imitation, adaption and innovation by young cooks buoyed by receptive media to get a national, even global, audience. For their efforts American gastronomy has never been better, more diversified or solid, from coast to coast. But these days it seems we want 'stars' who will fare brightly on dramatically crafted Food Network competition shows and be lucky enough to ride the publicity before next season's contestants show up. WASHINGTON, VA - OCT21: Chef Patrick O'Connell prepares to cook for a gala dinner at the The Inn at ... More Little Washington celebrating the 60th anniversary of Relais and Chateaux, with Chef Patrick Bertron of Relais Bernard Loiseau, October 21, 2014. (Photo by Evelyn Hockstein/For The Washington Post via Getty Images) Here are but a few of those chefs from the 1980s and 1990s who had significant impact on the way cooks cook and Americans dine today: SAN FRANCISCO, CA - 1988: Chef and author Jeremiah Tower poses in his restaurant "Stars" during a ... More 1988 San Francisco, California, photo portrait session. Tower, a flamboyant and outspoken author began his career at the famed "Chez Panisse" restaurant in Berkeley, California. (Photo by) Emeril Lagasse, Susanna Foo, Jody Adams, Lydia Shire, Judy Rogers, Larry Forgione, Jeremiah Tower, Charlie Trotter, Patrick O'Connell, Gary Danko, Georges Perrier, Mark Militello, Norman van Aken, Stephan Pyles, Robert Del Grande, Julian Serrano, Roy Yamaguchi, George Mavrothalassitas, Alan Wong, Joyce Goldstein and many others.
Yahoo
26-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
I was blindfolded and kidnapped before eating a £400 dinner
It didn't look good. I'd been blindfolded and was being bundled into the back of a Mercedes in my home city, Lyon in southeast France. You'd think that I was in major trouble, or at best, playing some kind of kink game. You probably wouldn't guess that I was simply going out for dinner. Anyone with a passing interest in cuisine is familiar with Lyon's reputation. It's long been lauded the culinary capital of France. Much of the reputation centres around bouchons, traditional Lyonnais restaurants specialising in offal, but it hasn't hurt that some of the most famous and decorated chefs in the world had restaurants here, including Paul Bocuse and Eugénie Brazier, the first person to receive six Michelin stars. Lyon is home to France's starriest food street, the aptly named Rue du Bœuf, which boasts three Michelin-starred restaurants. The city also has 14 other Michelin-starred establishments beyond this famous street. Most serve classic haute cuisine, but at one, I found myself listening to babbling brooks through noise cancelling headphones as I ate pureed vegetables with my hands. Jérémy Galvan, the chef behind Contre-Champ, doesn't play by the rules. Judging by the kidnapping, Galvan's latest project seemed set to be just as wacky. 220 Bpm, his new restaurant, opened recently, and I was one of the first to try it out. But rather than being given the restaurant address, I was told to head to Place Bellecour, Lyon's main square, and wait to be picked up. The car arrived with tinted windows, and I was blindfolded and my phone confiscated, Squid Game-style. Our driver put on an audiobook to set the mood, as we sat in the car in a state of partial sensory deprivation. I was reminded of Squid Game again as children talked in French about a fantasy world (there were headsets available in English). Some of my fellow passengers grumbled about the lack of phones, although our kidnappers had generously given us the time to message a loved one. I was far more preoccupied by unravelling the mystery of where we were going. We were heading uphill on a windy road, but the complete absence of traffic baffled me: unheard of in Lyon at rush hour. Forty minutes later, the arrival was somewhat anticlimactic. We were in the countryside, in front of a house surrounded by trees, but in the dark I couldn't deduce much more. Our phones stayed in their box, and we filed upstairs into a scene which looked as though the Michelin guide met Shipwrecked. It was small, just 14 seats arranged in pairs. The tables looked impossibly impractical, made from driftwood staggered over multiple levels and already laden with decoratively presented amuse bouches. Was that a fish's head? And where the hell was I going to put my wine glass? The waiters filed out, leather armour-like tops like characters from Assassin's Creed. Their trousers were baggy, reminiscent of gap year kids that think they've found themselves, but have actually just discovered marijuana. We had no idea what we were eating until after each course. Since the menu was as far from a steak-frites as it's possible to get, this required blind faith, although I'd requested no meat, the sole fusspot Briton in a group of stoical French diners ready to eat whatever was put in front of them. Deciphering the dishes was no mean feat. There were fried green balls that tasted like peas. An eggshell made from chocolate filled with a salty liquid – sea water? Was I actually on Shipwrecked? Choux pastry filled with a rosemary-infused cream cheese that oddly tasted like a sweet roast dinner. I was scared that I was going to eat one of the table decorations by accident, mistaking a piece of bark for one of Galvan's creations. The wine glasses arrived with no base, stems slotting neatly into holes in the driftwood, and I breathed a sigh of relief. For one of the courses, the waiters rolled out a trolley of what looked like dragon's eggs. I imagined that Galvan must have been a fantasy kid who dressed up as an elf and practised fencing with wooden swords: we'd moved from Squid Game to Assassin's Creed to Game of Thrones. They lit the eggs with what looked like Bunsen burners, and smoke filled the room. I was confused. I was also thoroughly enjoying myself. It didn't hurt that each course was accompanied by truly delicious wine pairings, served generously. What followed was such a whirlwind of flavours that muddled and delighted my taste buds all at once. Mushrooms in multiple ways: confit, fermented, in purée. Scallops served on a bed of lemon caviar, quails eggs poached in white chocolate, caramelised cauliflower accompanied with toasted almonds. A green lingot which tasted like caviar turned out to be leek. Much of what was served was seasonal, and I was told that the decor would change with the seasons as well as the menu. Young Galvan in elf ears slays an orc with his wooden sword and pulls out its beating heart. At least, that's what I imagined was the inspiration for the next course and the restaurant name, 220 Bpm. The waiters appeared in front of each table with a carcass, of which animal I couldn't say. We were invited to put our hands inside the carcass to retrieve the next dish. I felt exceedingly smug as I pulled out my own spiced beetroot patty, as the eat-everything Frenchies around me had patties, made from beef and guinea fowl hearts. Some of them visibly blanched. 'It's the climatic point of the meal, you're eating the heart of the restaurant,' said Galvan. 'But this course has a double meaning: it also forces the diners to respect the fact that meat is a sacrifice of life. We don't waste any part of the animal here.' No orcs, then. During dessert it happened. I ate part of the decor, taking a large bite of the beeswax base one of my dishes had been served upon. Perhaps all my senses were completely addled by then. After five hours of pure theatre, it was time to head home. I was relieved that there were no blindfolds or audiobooks as I digested. Although some of the dishes had been nothing short of excellent, it wasn't the most delicious meal I'd ever eaten – a couple of dishes were a little too experimental for my liking. It was certainly the most memorable, though, and thoroughly worth it, although the squeamish might want to skip the heart course. The full experience at 220 Bpm (food, wine pairings and transport from Lyon city centre) costs €455pp, or €650pp with a premium food and wine selection. Advance reservations are essential. Anna was a guest of the restaurant. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. 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Telegraph
26-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
I was blindfolded and kidnapped before eating a £400 dinner (in France, where else)
It didn't look good. I'd been blindfolded and was being bundled into the back of a Mercedes in my home city, Lyon in southeast France. You'd think that I was in major trouble, or at best, playing some kind of kink game. You probably wouldn't guess that I was simply going out for dinner. Anyone with a passing interest in cuisine is familiar with Lyon's reputation. It's long been lauded the culinary capital of France. Much of the reputation centres around bouchons, traditional Lyonnais restaurants specialising in offal, but it hasn't hurt that some of the most famous and decorated chefs in the world had restaurants here, including Paul Bocuse and Eugénie Brazier, the first person to receive six Michelin stars. Lyon is home to France's starriest food street, the aptly named Rue du Bœuf, which boasts three Michelin-starred restaurants. The city also has 14 other Michelin-starred establishments beyond this famous street. Most serve classic haute cuisine, but at one, I found myself listening to babbling brooks through noise cancelling headphones as I ate pureed vegetables with my hands. Jérémy Galvan, the chef behind Contre-Champ, doesn't play by the rules. Squid Game style Judging by the kidnapping, Galvan's latest project seemed set to be just as wacky. 220 Bpm, his new restaurant, opened recently, and I was one of the first to try it out. But rather than being given the restaurant address, I was told to head to Place Bellecour, Lyon's main square, and wait to be picked up. The car arrived with tinted windows, and I was blindfolded and my phone confiscated, Squid Game -style. Our driver put on an audiobook to set the mood, as we sat in the car in a state of partial sensory deprivation. I was reminded of Squid Game again as children talked in French about a fantasy world (there were headsets available in English). Some of my fellow passengers grumbled about the lack of phones, although our kidnappers had generously given us the time to message a loved one. I was far more preoccupied by unravelling the mystery of where we were going. We were heading uphill on a windy road, but the complete absence of traffic baffled me: unheard of in Lyon at rush hour. Forty minutes later, the arrival was somewhat anticlimactic. We were in the countryside, in front of a house surrounded by trees, but in the dark I couldn't deduce much more. Our phones stayed in their box, and we filed upstairs into a scene which looked as though the Michelin guide met Shipwrecked. It was small, just 14 seats arranged in pairs. The tables looked impossibly impractical, made from driftwood staggered over multiple levels and already laden with decoratively presented amuse bouches. Was that a fish's head? And where the hell was I going to put my wine glass? The waiters filed out, leather armour-like tops like characters from Assassin's Creed. Their trousers were baggy, reminiscent of gap year kids that think they've found themselves, but have actually just discovered marijuana. A fusspot Briton vs the stoical French We had no idea what we were eating until after each course. Since the menu was as far from a steak-frites as it's possible to get, this required blind faith, although I'd requested no meat, the sole fusspot Briton in a group of stoical French diners ready to eat whatever was put in front of them. Deciphering the dishes was no mean feat. There were fried green balls that tasted like peas. An eggshell made from chocolate filled with a salty liquid – sea water? Was I actually on Shipwrecked? Choux pastry filled with a rosemary-infused cream cheese that oddly tasted like a sweet roast dinner. I was scared that I was going to eat one of the table decorations by accident, mistaking a piece of bark for one of Galvan's creations. The wine glasses arrived with no base, stems slotting neatly into holes in the driftwood, and I breathed a sigh of relief. For one of the courses, the waiters rolled out a trolley of what looked like dragon's eggs. I imagined that Galvan must have been a fantasy kid who dressed up as an elf and practised fencing with wooden swords: we'd moved from Squid Game to Assassin's Creed to Game of Thrones. They lit the eggs with what looked like Bunsen burners, and smoke filled the room. I was confused. I was also thoroughly enjoying myself. It didn't hurt that each course was accompanied by truly delicious wine pairings, served generously. Be still my beating heart What followed was such a whirlwind of flavours that muddled and delighted my taste buds all at once. Mushrooms in multiple ways: confit, fermented, in purée. Scallops served on a bed of lemon caviar, quails eggs poached in white chocolate, caramelised cauliflower accompanied with toasted almonds. A green lingot which tasted like caviar turned out to be leek. Much of what was served was seasonal, and I was told that the decor would change with the seasons as well as the menu. Young Galvan in elf ears slays an orc with his wooden sword and pulls out its beating heart. At least, that's what I imagined was the inspiration for the next course and the restaurant name, 220 Bpm. The waiters appeared in front of each table with a carcass, of which animal I couldn't say. We were invited to put our hands inside the carcass to retrieve the next dish. I felt exceedingly smug as I pulled out my own spiced beetroot patty, as the eat-everything Frenchies around me had patties, made from beef and guinea fowl hearts. Some of them visibly blanched. 'It's the climatic point of the meal, you're eating the heart of the restaurant,' said Galvan. 'But this course has a double meaning: it also forces the diners to respect the fact that meat is a sacrifice of life. We don't waste any part of the animal here.' No orcs, then. During dessert it happened. I ate part of the decor, taking a large bite of the beeswax base one of my dishes had been served upon. Perhaps all my senses were completely addled by then. After five hours of pure theatre, it was time to head home. I was relieved that there were no blindfolds or audiobooks as I digested. Although some of the dishes had been nothing short of excellent, it wasn't the most delicious meal I'd ever eaten – a couple of dishes were a little too experimental for my liking. It was certainly the most memorable, though, and thoroughly worth it, although the squeamish might want to skip the heart course.
Bloomberg
28-01-2025
- Entertainment
- Bloomberg
The High Highs and Low Lows of Haute Cuisine
The Bocuse d'Or is the World Cup of cooking — and the equivalence is evident from the patriotic clang produced by spectators from the 24 qualifying countries at the finals. The tournament is named for the late French chef Paul Bocuse, who pioneered nouvelle cuisine in the 1960s, and has been held biennially in his native Lyon since its inception in 1987. This year France took the gold medal, under chef Paul Marcon. It's the ninth time the country has won the prize. The official Bocuse d'Or website provides a count of the winners and runners-up over the past four decades. Brian Mark Hansen of Denmark triumphed in 2023, the country's third first-place finish (it took silver this year). Nordic neighbor Norway has five gold medals (it also has four silver and three bronze). Luxembourg, the US and Sweden have one apiece.
