Between Butter and Jang: A French Chef’s Story in Seoul

Chloe, a French chef

When I was born and trained as a cook in France, Korea was a distant and unfamiliar country to me. While my friends were immersed in K-pop and Korean dramas, I was devoted solely to the kitchen—my knives, my craft, and the traditions of French cuisine. With a firm belief that French cuisine represented the pinnacle of gastronomy, I nurtured a dream of becoming a renowned chef.

Then, an unexpected connection appeared in my life. I discovered that the bakery I used to enjoy in France, Paris Baguette, was actually a Korean company. From that moment on, my curiosity about Korea began to grow. The decisive turning point came when I watched *Chef’s Table* on Netflix. The temple cuisine of Venerable Jeong Kwan that I encountered there was nothing short of a revelation. The idea that one could create such depth and refinement of flavor without meat or butter shook the very foundations of what I had believed cooking to be.

I wanted to learn Korean cuisine, but there were no suitable mentors in France. Then, by sheer luck, an opportunity arose. A chef I had been working with asked if I would consider following him to Korea. I immediately replied, “oui.”

Working in a hotel kitchen in Seoul, I discovered that Korea was far more dynamic and creative than I had ever imagined.

What impressed me most was Korea’s remarkable ability to fuse. Koreans do not merely imitate foreign cuisines; they reinterpret them in their own way, creating something entirely new. Seeing the French dishes I had taught transformed and elevated through a Korean sensibility was, at times, astonishing—and even inspiring.

This creativity extends beyond food. When I traveled from Seoul to Busan by KTX, I was struck by how fast, clean, and efficient it was. I learned that while its origins lay in French technology, it had been further developed by Korea. It felt like a symbol of cooperation between our two countries. From energy to culture and the arts, France and Korea have grown together through mutual influence.

If France embodies a long tradition and depth in gastronomy, Korea represents adaptability and a keen sense of transformation. When these qualities meet, new possibilities emerge. The foundation is already in place for us to move beyond simple exchange toward true co-creation.

One day, I hope to return to France and open my own restaurant. There, I want to present a new kind of cuisine—French dishes enriched by the depth of Korean fermentation and *jang*. It will not be mere fusion, but rather the result of two cultures understanding and respecting one another.

Between butter and *jang*, I continue to learn. Cuisine transcends borders, cultures blend, and people evolve. And in that transformation, France and Korea can move forward together—further than ever before.