Chefs from father to son... Maximin, son of Michel Hellio

Chefs from father to son (or daughter to daughter): a great classic. Vocation or mimicry, this is what happens when, from an early age, you're immersed in an environment where the boundaries between professional and private life are blurred. What do you keep in your head and in your kitchen from your father's influence? How do you respect your heritage while at the same time becoming emancipated? Interview with Maximin Hellio, now a 3-toque chef in Deauville, and son of Michel, the iconic Breton chef.

Sylvie Berkowicz Published on 9/5/22 at 12:00 AM

He grew up in his parents Michel and Marlène Hellio's restaurant, La Vieille Tour, in Plérin, near Saint-Brieuc. Then, after a spell with Marc Haeberlin and Frédéric Anton, he joined them in 2008 at La Voile d'Or, in Sables-d'Or-les-Pins. The path seemed clear for him to succeed a father with a solid reputation. In 2013, Gault&Millau even awarded him the title of Grand de Demain, even though the family had decided to close the restaurant a few months earlier, due to a dispute with the owner of the premises. A few years later, the young chef returned to his Deauville establishment, where he has been writing his own story since 2016.

Gault&Millau: What does it mean to you to have had a father who was a chef?

Maximin Hellio: For me, having a father who was a chef also meant having a mother who worked in a restaurant, and therefore parents who were company directors. They started out untrained, first with simple cuisine, then gastronomic, with a hotel side. They set up their business at a very young age, and made it on their own. I was never pressured by them to do this job or to work with them. I took up this profession because I thought it was beautiful. One day I saw my father drawing a plate, in this case a pan-fried foie gras with port, it was autumn, with apples, candied fruit... and I found it excessively beautiful. I told myself that it was better to choose manual work than to continue studying something I wasn't necessarily cut out for.

G&M: As a child, were you involved in the life of the restaurant?

M. H.: Our apartment was right next door, with a small window overlooking the kitchen. Every evening, my sister and I were allowed to watch between 6 and 7:30 p.m., and then we went to bed. When we were older, we stayed a little later, so of course we were allowed to taste things. It was magical, and that's what made us want to do this job. We saw the pleasure in it, the passion... I chose cooking, and my sister creates a range of vegan pastries sold in delicatessens and organic stores [Les Ateliers de la Veggisserie, NDLR].

G&M: Did you ever think you'd take over from your father?

M. H.: Never! How could I succeed a father like mine? It's not a question of media fame, it's just a question of having had a father who did things well. How can I put it... someone who was present, who played his role as a father, his role as an entrepreneur and who, despite the awards, the notoriety, was still there. the awards, the fame, the fact of having left his mark on generations in Brittany, he never let it go to his head. It's often said that you have to kill your father to become someone. I don't like that idea at all! When he fell ill, I was 26 and working with him; the only thing I was interested in was keeping my father! The company too, which he wanted to pass on to me, but my priority was to keep my family. I kept at it for months, for a few years, until he said to me: I think you can open your own restaurant. And that's regardless of the fact that he was forced to close his shortly afterwards.

G&M: What remains of your parents in your restaurant today?

M. H.: When I designed this house, I realized that it was a mirror image of my parents' first home, in Plérin. They lived above the restaurant, and sometimes - as my mother often recounts with great humor - in the middle of service, we'd see two little darlings in overalls asking their mom for a story. There was no need to worry, the customers just laughed and things went really well. What's left of it all? In truth, it's not necessarily the cooking itself, because in your profession as a chef, you move forward, you evolve. What's left of Mom and Dad is their sound advice. Pay attention to everything, keep an eye on everything, be kind to your teams, rest when you can, and stay at home if you feel good there...

G&M: What does your father say about your cooking?

M. H.: Well, for one thing, he never says anything! Well, he did once, and that was about my shrimp broth. They came over for lunch six months ago and they were totally blown away! He asked, "How did you do that?"I said, "But you must know, don't you?"He said "No, I don't..." In fact, everyone has their own vision, their own level, and when you present someone with a dish they've never eaten, well, they don't know how it's made!