I'm thinking of adding a new class. "How to build a restaurant menu" including trend selection, recipe, work flow, pricing etc

​Time in a kitchen is measured in the heat of service, the pressure of a full rail, and the silent, profound growth of the people beside you. Six weeks ago, a very nervous Manon from Brittany walked in, genuinely terrified and without her apron. Today, on her last day at Novotel Luxembourg, she stood as a different person; a confident professional. ​We started this morning on a high note, and my heart was full. Manon, knowing I have a serious sweet tooth, brought in a box of local artisanal chocolates as a heartfelt "merci." It was the perfect start to a day that I knew would be hard to finish. ​ The shift itself was a dream. We worked in that rare, perfect rhythm where words aren't even necessary. We laughed, we joked, and yes, I teased her one last time about "not forgetting her apron this morning"; and we simply did an amazing job. The hesitation from her first week has vanished. She believes in herself now. She knows she is capable, and watching her square her shoulders for that final push was a moment of pure pride for me. ​ Over the last month, in the quiet gaps between tickets, we talked about more than just plating. She spoke so passionately about her home in Brittany that she’s completely convinced me it’s my next camping destination. We traded stories and debated the world’s flavors; she wasn't just a "stage" anymore, she became a part of the kitchen’s soul. ​ Before we said our final goodbyes, I sharpened her knives for her. It felt like a sacred act, a way of ensuring her tools are as sharp as the skills she’s honed here. I gave her a hug, took this final photo, and made her promise to keep in touch. In my kitchen, her place is permanent. ​ I’ve never hidden my doubts about the future of this industry. I am honest to a fault about the bitterness of this trade. Manon didn’t change my mind, but she did soften my heart. She reminded me that while the industry can be bitter, the people we help grow are the sweetness that makes it worth it.

There’s nothing like the feeling of getting your hands in the dirt! Today was all about setting up the balcony garden, and I’m finally seeing some life poking through. ​Growing your own ingredients is the ultimate "Kitchen Passport" it’s the shortest distance a product can travel to your plate. Here is the current status of the balcony: - ​The Early Birds: My spring onions and radishes are officially sprouting! - The "Survivor": I planted three butternut seeds, but only one has made it to the surface so far. It’s a reminder that nature has its own pace. - The Slow Burners: The parsley and yellow carrots are taking their time, but I can see them starting to push through. - The Big Risk: I’ve just moved my tomato and cucumber seedlings outside for their first night. It’s always a nervous moment; fingers crossed they handle the drop in temperature! 🤞❄️ - The Future: Just finished planning out the strawberries. There’s nothing like home-grown berries in a few months. ​💡 Chef’s Tip for Small Gardens: ​When space is tight on a balcony, focus on "High-Value" crops. Things like parsley and spring onions are expensive to buy fresh every week, but they are incredibly hardy and easy to grow in small pots. ​Discussion: Are any of you growing your own ingredients this year? Whether it’s a full garden or just a single pot of basil on a windowsill, I want to see it! ​Drop a photo of your "green" progress below! 👇🌿

NO, I'm not referring to the famous 1986 movie but have you ever noticed how some raw meats seem to attract house flies almost instantly while others don’t? I’ve found that meats with stronger smells or more moisture seem to draw them in faster. It’s like the flies know exactly where the most intense scent is coming from. However... In my experience ...... pork attracts more, if I was going to compare chicken or beef? Not sure if you have this same experience? How do you prevent this pesky pest zooming around your precious meat?

Someone asked why we put the colored creion sketches and not a real photo. BECAUSE I LOKE THIEEM MORE! I use these sketches because they are the signature style of Kitchen Passport. Just like a chef’s personal notebook, they help us focus on the technique and the '"soul" of the food rather than just a polished, filtered photo. Just to prove that the food is actually real. Here is the original