Alexandre Gauthier: Keeping the Promise
The conversation wasn’t planned. The day after dinner at La Grenouillère, I met up with chef Alexandre Gauthier to talk about his restaurant. Very quickly, we began discussing life: the life we devote to others, the life that comes to terms with absences, the life in which we give so much when we choose to welcome others. The chef speaks candidly, sometimes searching for the right word, then picking up his train of thought. He wants us to understand what goes on behind the scenes of a meal.
Group Attendance
The Canche River flows through the town of La Madeleine-sous-Montreuil and has been a constant companion to the family-run restaurant La Grenouillère since long before it earned its two stars. In November 2023, the river overflowed, leading to a lengthy closure. When I ask him how he got through that ordeal, Alexandre Gauthier immediately turns to what he managed to preserve: “I managed to preserve what matters most—the human element. ” The damage was physical and financial. The team, however, remained. And the closure confirmed what he had already believed: La Grenouillère exists beyond its walls as well.
“This place belongs to them just as much as it does to me.” He’s the “boss,” as he puts it, but those who work here devote their time and energy to him and are attentive to others. Visitors, in turn, leave something behind: gratitude, a desire to return, and sometimes the memory of finally letting go. On my third visit, that same feeling came over me again. It’s a collective presence that you sense the moment you arrive.
“My job is to clear the land.”
The river, he points out, flowed before him and will flow after him. This realization fosters a very tangible sense of humility. “Cooking with a region’s ingredients also means bringing it to life. Buying local products allows you to build relationships with those who produce them, support the local economy, and discover the region in a different way.” Alexandre Gauthier knows he won’t save the world with a single plate of food. He hopes to contribute, in his own small way, to helping people live a little better together.
He likes to have multiple venues, to have multiple avenues for expression. His restaurants are part of a single project led by the same team, and the reputation of each one reflects on the others. At La Grenouillère, the menu is even more eclectic. “My job is to blaze new trails,” he says. To move in a direction that has yet to be fully explored. And to offer guests something more than just a sense of comfort: “If I can make you sit up straighter in your chair, that interests me.”
The Present Moment
What he wants us to forget at the table are our everyday worries—the ones that creep into our conversations and pull us away from the present moment. During dinner, he wants to hold our attention and allow us to live in the moment. Putting together the menu therefore requires making choices—and also making sacrifices. Chefs would always like to reveal more of their world. “But you still have to know when the diner is no longer hungry, when their focus is wandering, and when we need to stop,” the chef points out.
A single dish cannot capture who he is. A menu better conveys who he is—alone with his kitchen staff, at this very moment on the Opal Coast. His cuisine is a snapshot of the present: a mood, or even the weather. The menu evolves based on the ingredients he receives. When the cold weather sets in, duck dishes make their way into the kitchen, and a few local porcini mushrooms are used to prepare a side dish rather than a full meal. “The season always sets the pace.”
Deliberate Dissonance
When it comes to flavors, the chef draws inspiration from music. Power has its place, as do pauses and silences. “If the ingredient whispers, why systematically try to intensify it?” He also appreciates dissonance—when it’s intentional. It surprises and opens up possibilities. Just as with a work of contemporary art, accepting that you won’t understand everything right away can unlock something. But you still have to be receptive, ready to listen, and leave your preconceptions at the door.
His candor becomes more pronounced when he discusses the attitude of those who serve on juries. He acknowledges that his work may not be to everyone’s liking. He asks that we keep in mind that men and women devote their lives to it. He speaks respectfully of the unsung chefs, and then of his own family, who have long been willing to make compromises and continue to do so. In the restaurant business, there are also evenings, weekends, and moments when you can’t be there.
This is where a phrase comes into play that gives our experience its full meaning: “keeping the promise.” The promise we have upon arriving, fueled by the words of a loved one, an article, or the memory of a previous meal. Everyone comes with different expectations. Some are won over as soon as they step into the courtyard; others will wait until dessert to let their guard down. We must guide them all the way through, then start over the next day. At Alexandre Gauthier’s, humility stems from the realization that nothing is ever a given. That promise is a commitment—every single day.
