“I’ve always been very greedy and, somewhere along the way, I got a little lost”

Food has always been a big part of my life. I was raised between two cultures, one Christian, the other Jewish, the meal was important in both. The table was the place where the family gathered, where friends met. My grandmothers cooked a lot: with my pied-noir grandmother, I learned about couscous, spices and honey, and generosity in the kitchen.

With the other, the daughter of a French farmer, it was the tradition of good vegetables, perfect cooking, avoidance of waste and frugality. I lost my father to cancer when I was little, and I grew up with my older brother and my mother. She also liked to receive. I liked to set the table, make beautiful decorations, prepare the aperitif on pretty plates.

I loved this festive atmosphere, when the adults dine, drink, talk, when we have to go to bed because we are children, but we come back on tiptoe, to listen, observe, envy this ” life of adults”. What I appreciated more than anything was the morning after, when I was the first to wake up, that the table had not been undone. There were traces of lipstick on the glasses, mixed perfumes, bits of bread, leftover sugar.

One of the desserts my mother made regularly was chocolate profiteroles, which she filled with whipped cream instead of ice cream. It was my favorite of all. There were often a few left over on the next day’s table, which I delighted in, even if the cabbage was a little soft. Profiteroles with whipped cream have remained my favorite dessert, which I make from time to time. I sugar them very little, it’s airy, sweet, subtle, like a cloud to finish the dinner. And it’s always a delight for the guests, whereas, basically, it’s not very complicated.

The discovery of full presence

I’ve always been very greedy and, somewhere along the way, I got a little lost. I was a journalist for fifteen years, specializing in beauty. I worked with the world of perfume, which has many links with the world of gastronomy. I loved meeting creators, chefs, artists. But, little by little, I lost the meaning of what I was doing.

At the time of the attacks in 2015, I was terribly shaken, depressed, which manifested in a voracious, bottomless appetite. I had a hollow feeling all the time. I gained weight, but I didn’t want to go on a diet. I quit my job as a journalist to devote myself to my blog. And, gradually, I reconciled with my body.

It started with the meeting with chef Olivier Roellinger, who fed me stories about peasants and landscapes. Then I discovered yoga, full presence, feeling your body better because you work with it and take care of it. That’s what I try to convey today in everything I do. Which doesn’t prevent me from always being as greedy, especially for profiteroles.