Ms. Crenn, would you consider yourself a storyteller through your work as a chef?
Certainly, I’m a storyteller. All the menus that I write for Atelier Crenn and my other restaurants are telling a story in some way. The last menu that I created even included a poem that I wrote about the anniversary of my mom passing away. It was about the ocean and the water cycle… All the dishes were very much connected to the earth and the sea. It was very emotional. Another menu I created was dedicated to a girl called Hannah. I work a lot with kids with cancer, and I connected with this 11 year old girl, I spent a lot of time with her, we wrote poetry together… And one day, she died. And all that year, all my menus were about Hannah. That’s storytelling. That’s emotional. And I think when you come to that place, people connect with that.
That sounds incredibly personal — almost like you are bearing your soul on a plate. Is it difficult to make yourself so vulnerable?
It’s true that we are exposed. But to be an artist, to show your art to the world, you have to be vulnerable. I just want to make sure that every step that I do has a purpose and is meaningful, and with that as the goal, you really are naked on the table. I think it's one of the best skills we have as humans, but often people are afraid of that. I tell this to my daughters: vulnerability is your super power, your inner power. Whatever you want to do, just go out there and do your magic, be who you are on the plate. Do not hide yourself.
“Food is personal, food is subjective; I’ve accepted that people are going to criticize you — but that doesn’t make me less, that doesn’t make me a bad chef.”
But what about when your work gets critiqued or criticized? It must be much more painful when your food is so personal.
I think we have to welcome any and all criticism. We live in a world that when you are in the public eye, people love to talk about you. But you know, they don’t know me, they don’t understand me, there is no story behind it. The thing I try to remember is that they don't have to like it. Food is personal, food is subjective; there are things that I don't like to eat, but that doesn't mean it's bad. So I’ve accepted that people are going to criticize you — but that doesn’t make me less, that doesn’t make me a bad chef. So that’s how I walk into the world, being vulnerable, being myself but understanding that some people are not going to like it, and that's okay.
Where do you get that strength from?
From my father, definitely. My father was a beautiful man. He taught me everything about life and being who you are. He was a politician, but a good politician. He cared about others that didn't have a voice, he fought for them, and he opened up the world of culture and art to me and my brother. He taught us to listen to others, and to go into the world being you even when it’s difficult.
Is that a lesson you hope to pass on to the young chefs and people you work with?
It’s interesting that you ask because I used to work in a few different kitchens in Indonesia, this was back in the 1990s. But I worked with a lot of young chefs there, and I still get some beautiful letters, especially from those young women that I mentored. Remember that Indonesia is a Muslim country, which is a beautiful religion, but one in which the woman doesn’t have that much power. And at the time, a professional kitchen was a man’s place. I took a lot of those young women and said, “We are going to learn together. I can teach you.” I got a letter from one of these women just the other day and she said, “You saw me. And the reason why I'm still cooking today is because you saw me for who I was.” And that was just amazing to read, that I helped someone in that way.
Is that the mark of true success for you, rather than something like your three Michelin stars, or other accolades and awards?
Absolutely. Success for me is when you have a platform, and you give the platform to others. That is success. We have such a short time on this earth, and when you give that opportunity to somebody younger, and they pass it on to the next generation… That’s real success.
Does success also have to do with creativity and pushing boundaries in the kitchen?
Of course. I mean, I’m very creative on my own, I love art and all that, I like to write and to make things. But I also understand that there is no perfection in life. It’s about evolution, and pushing yourself. Food is a movement. We move every day. We change every day. As a chef, I don’t want to just get into a box and do the same thing over and over again, even if it’s good, even if it’s successful. I want to do something that can spark my creativity. I absolutely want to be pushing the boundary every day.
Do you find yourself becoming more creative as you get older?
Definitely! We live in a world where things are changing fast. I’m very sensitive about what's happening with the environment, how we get our food on the plate, who are the farmers, what’s necessary to cultivate our food and what are the consequences… And because of all these questions, I change the way I’m cooking and that forces me to be more creative. I took dairy out of my menus, I don’t work with factory farming, I’m working a lot more with vegetables and with local farmers that I really have a relationship with. I only put things on the menu if it’s reasonable for my suppliers. We have to be informed about the way we’re accessing our food, and that has forced me to be creative with my menu in a different way. Another thing that impacted the way I work was my battle with breast cancer.
In what way?
Well, the thing is that I’m adopted so I didn’t have any medical history for myself, I didn’t have any real understanding about my health. I got diagnosed with breast cancer, and it was a very bad prognosis. But it pushed me to have a better understanding of how our food and what we put into our body can have an effect on us. Of course, it’s about more than just food, but it’s about how we take care of ourselves, how we live our lives. I’ve since taken a more holistic approach in my restaurant. We do a lot of meditation, we take care of our staff and their mental health, we have a small farm where we grow our own produce, we try to understand where things come from… It gives me a different way of living my life and my work; I try not to feel the stress from everything.
It seems like a very healthy way to run a kitchen, and quite different from the ultra high-stress environments we’re used to seeing depicted on film and TV.
I think respect for the others is the foundation of the kitchen. It’s not about skills or how good of a chef I am, it's about humanity, curiosity, humility, leadership. A leader is not a boss. A leader is someone that also listens to others. A leader cares about the well being of their team. The kitchen, in my opinion, is a gift that you're giving for your chefs to learn. Remember, this is a family, you work 18 hours a day with these people, so you have to create this community, you have to take care of each other, to treat them with respect and love. That’s what matters.