Regional Finalists 2022-23

My grandmother is from North Korea. She came down to South Korea during the Korean War. She was a housewife, but also my chef. She cooked a lot of North Korean food. Among them, my favorite was Pheasant dishes. It's a main signature dish that unravels these foods in my own way. My grandmother's cooking for me was a memory and happiness for me. With those memories, I give people happy memories and dishes and my dream is to become a chef. If She was alive, I would like to cook this for her.

What I would like to express through this dish is Thai culture, is blended with French because I want to bring Thai food that people eat every day to make it look more exotic and delicious. mixed with the French cuisine that I'm working on.

I choose this dish because my mom used to cook this for me and now I cook it for my son. I wan to represent thai heritage dishes in a modern way, to reflect that if the products are treated with love and respect, so the dish will be. I refine the flavours and techniques to elevate it even more, to show the proud heritage of the Thailand ingredients and recipes.

“Second Generation” expresses my journey as a second-generation Canadian chef shaped by Caribbean and South American roots. Inspired by memories of cooking beside my mother and grandmother soaking salt cod, cleaning live crab, and preparing sorrel drinks, the dish honours the women who shaped me. Through modern technique and personal storytelling, I want to show how heritage, resilience, and diverse voices can help shape the future of Canadian gastronomy.

This dish reflects my life and experiences—a blend of French culinary skill and comforting home flavors from Canada as a multicultural nation. Montreal's Chinatown was my sanctuary, sparking my fascination with diverse culinary traditions, inspiring me still today. Cooking, for me, is love and passion, rooted in respect—using every part of ingredients, minimizing waste, letting flavors shine. Join my journey as a French-Canadian chef celebrating diverse influences shaping my culinary identity.

As Mongolian chef working in fine dining in Canada, carrying the values of my nomadic heritage into every kitchen I enter. Like a modern nomad, I adapt to new environments, learn from different cultures, and grow through each experience while remaining connected to my roots. Inspired by the hospitality of the Mongolian Ger, this dish reflects my journey and my ambition to help shape the future of Mongolian cuisine on the world stage.

Seasonality and regionality play a fundamental role for me when creating my dishes.
Going through the world with open eyes, seeing what nature has to offer, helps me tremendously when creating new dishes.
I want to know where my products come from and how I can use the conditions of my environment for my dishes. Products should find their way onto a plate when they are available on the market in the best quality it can offer. The goal should always be to use the full potential of all products.

My dish is intended to showcase the colourful diversity and wonderful flavours of my homeland. The idea of my dish is based on my experiences and the various inspirations of my career. I want to put my homeland and our great produce centre stage.

This Dish is my Handwriting, it is all the experiences I collected over the years in every kitchen I worked, starting from what my mother cooked for me when I was a child. My Grandma created many dishes with offals, and that was the inspiration for my ragout. I Love to make some old traditional dishes in a new modern way with a touch of Asian style.

Heritage expresses my belief that the future of cuisine is not only about innovation, but also about preserving knowledge. Chicken, a universal ingredient shared across cultures, is the foundation of this dish. A whole chicken is separated, each part transformed through a different technique, and reunited on a single plate. This process reflects the essence of French cuisine: understanding an ingredient, transforming it, and creating unity from diversity.

A plate full of memories of my trip to Bretagne in the summer. I found a wild fennel herb in the nature of Bretagne, I bought organic vegetables and herbs from local producers. I fished in the sea of Bretagne, (natural fish and natural common cockle and seaweeds that actually experienced fishing)
The main ingredient,Turbot, is baked, The Flounder Fin, bone-based sauce, and Turbot skin chips, all of which can be cooked and enjoyed with different sauces and garnishes.

As I grew up in Saint-Raphael, fish soup had an emblematic place in my family. My father, a fish lover, observed changes in the sea ecosystem: pollution, destruction of the biodiversity and diminution of the quantity of fish. We can’t keep our old habits by cooking without thinking about the consequences. I don’t want to forget the taste of Provence so I invented a new recipe that take into account these issues. More ethical ways can be taken to archive the emotional memory of taste.

With this proposal, what I am trying to do is make the most of a product of such quality as hake. Hake is one of the most consumed foods in Spain by the most humble families. In this dish I use all parts of the hake to avoid throwing waste in the trash. The garnishes are also made with cheap products simulating how poor families would make them. The dish has three preparations using a different part of the hake in each of them.

I am a chef who returned to his origins, and the one I want to become proves that flavor, wellbeing and respect for the sea are a single path. I believe food is how we care for one another — for the people we feed and the sea that feeds us. My Basque grandparents fished in Chile, there I found comunity and learned that to cook is to give care. This dish carries that belief: a humble mackerel caught by hook, cooked with modern-tradition technique, nutrients that heal, nothing wasted.

This dish symbolizes the respect and love that I have to the culture that gave me all the techniques and knowledge that I have today; always adding my little personal touch from Mexico. It is a plate with different elaborations, techniques, flavors, traditions and creativity. It truly shows the kind of chef I have become. Besides it was thought with the philosophy of circular cooking and sustainability. In the future I want to be an example to all the future women entering the gastronomic world.

I believe as human being that we are very sick. Imagination and language is what did separated humans from animal.
Today peoples are not conscious of who we really are and the consequence is that we create confusion, trends and bad ego is the protagonist in this planet. Today we try to fix this planet by using one word, sustainability.
who really know the significant of that word and who first went to see inside of the most scary place of this world? I think it is better to start from us...

I chose baby goat, because in addition to liking it a lot, it was the first animal I cooked in my first work experience, we used to stew it with potatoes without any knowledge of the various cuts of meat, it was cut into pieces and cooked in a pot. With this dish I would like to encourage many young people like me who come from experiences like mine, that with study and perseverance you discover other ways of presenting a cut or an animal in general.

Growing up in the province of Bergamo with my grandmothers, who were born and raised during the war, they always had the philosophy ‘ the butcher throws nothing away of an animal’. A thought that made me reflect on how many different ways there are to make full use of all that a raw material can offer us. This is why I chose to use a rabbit in its entirety and develop the dish starting with the use of a few kilos of carrots, thus managing to have no waste.

All the ingridients in my dish come from the farm I grew up, I sowed them myself, and I prepared them using traditional and contemporary techniques. The aim is for the judges to eat a humble part of Colombia at its best. I want this dish to be a way to give a voice to the farmers who had to leave their land and to create reflections about the crops and dishes that call themselves sustainable but often cause damage to the countryside and the traditional knowledge of peasant families.

The hen is the base of one of our emblematic typical dishes: the sancocho, a soup that is eaten at any time and on any occasion, it is cooked in firewood causing the soup to have smoky notes. It was with this idea that this dish was born, as I was curious about how to use the little parts of it, such as the neck, how the food ferments inside the gizzard and how through the use of one hundred per cent of the ingredients.

My grandfather is from Chocó, my mother from Neiva and my father from Manizales; I was born in Bogotá and raised in Cali. I can therefore say that I am a man of Colombia, one who has discovered the world of cuisine through the lens of his roots and experiences. In my dish, I use ingredients and preparations that are part of everyday home cooking: hormiga culona from Santander, cassava bollo from the Caribbean, cimarrón from the Pacific, heart of palm from Putumayo, and pirarucu and katara from the Amazon, alongside my interpretation of pachamanca (cooking underground).

This dish stemmed from my memory of my hometown. It started with chicken from Hetian Town and that relates to local farms and the whole ecological system. From there, it casts a light onto the Chinese farming and rural society culture.

Poultry is an important element in the dining culture for this city tucked away in the mountains. These Hetian chickens have a wild temperament and were used for imperial chicken fights in the ancient times. The farmers live in the mountains and the chickens roam around freely in the pristine environment feeding on wheat and rice grown on the farm. From my memory, these chickens are capable enough to scale trees and even rooftops.
 

This dish is my tribute to traditional Huaiyang cuisine, interpreted through the culinary language I know best. As a Western chef, I combine Chinese techniques and heritage with familiar Western methods, from consommé clarification to risotto emulsification and ballotine. Rather than reinventing tradition, I aim to create a respectful dialogue between cultures, showing that curiosity and craftsmanship can bring new vitality to classic flavours.

I have been training in the culinary arts since I was 14 and that set me on my career path. It allowed me to gain a thorough understanding of Western gastronomy and culinary techniques. But I have never veered too far from what is familiar to me; Chinese cuisine is etched in my memory and I am mesmerized by it. Coupled with foreign elements, it has sparked whimsical surprises in my style of Chinese cuisine.
 

In the modern world people get exposed to a huge number of ideas and opinions every day. The purpose of my dish is not to educate a person or try to put a new idea in his head, but simply bring joy and awaken positive emotions. I want to try and give joy to people by creating delicious food from good quality ingredients. If I can make someone feel good with my dish, I can contribute to making the world a better place and that is the most important for me. Delicious food is inspiring in itself.

With this dish, I want to show that it is possible to create a restaurant-quality dish using everyday ingredients, and that it can be used in many different ways. My goal was to prove that great cooking is not about luxury ingredients, but about technique, creativity, and making the most of what is available.

We are taught that sacrifice is the only way to perfection, that the expense of people is a normal part of being a chef. That the best produce is from the other part of the world and that waste is an exception for fine dining. I believe that sustainability contains so much more than just local vegetables. Its also about leadership, a good working environment and treating ourselves with respect. Respect the people, respect the produce, respect the process. Respect the world.

My yakitori is a unique take on the classic Japanese dish, combining traditional flavours with Italian and Australian elements and techniques, delivering a dish that is at once familiar, but unique in taste and texture.
Rather than a traditional yakitori sauce, I cured the egg yolk using colatura di alici, before using the latter to create a gel balanced with dashi that has a unique umami flavour.
My yuzukosho draws on fermented jalapeño for a complex umami flavour, lime zest, juice.

Driven by the understanding that we are the kaitiaki of rivers and oceans, this plate challenges how we care for our resources. It confronts past mistakes like the devastating overfishing of whitebait, which was once used as common garden fertiliser. Jackson has chosen to use abundant Australian ingredients to recreate childhood memories responsibly. This dish utilises zero-waste techniques to blend childhood playfulness with a commitment to ecological preservation.

My dish is based on my culinary journey: I am Indian by birth and I moved to New Zealand when I was 18 and I've been working in Tamaki Makaurau for the last 10 years, surrounded by the ocean. I want to showcase the best of seafood found in the country and also merge it with my Indian heritage in a subtle way by using dried fenugreek leaves with some of the main ingredients found in a lot of Indian food.

The inspiration behind this dish stems from deeply rooted memories of my childhood visits to my grandmother's home. At the heart of her cooking was her rooster dish, a testament to resourcefulness and culinary creativity born out of necessity. In the old times, when resources were scarce, my grandmother relied on every part of the rooster to create the family meals. Even though the dish is now adapted to fine dining techniques, I am transported back to those moments, the essence of home.

In a world of abundance, we need to look at a more nursing future. Sourcing ingredients has become paralysing for our planet. Due to over-fishing and over breeding, there is a big impact on the bee lives that provide us reproduction, which is necessary for our lives. In my dish, I combined sustainable farmed sea bass, free range pork and ecofriendly bee products from our little country. The dish shows how important sustainability is and also how the elements of nature are and can be connected.

Inspired by my grandmother’s rabbit stew, this dish reflects my journey from childhood memories to contemporary fine dining. Using the whole rabbit, each preparation represents family, sustainability, nature, and my evolution as a young chef, combining emotional storytelling with modern gastronomy.

This dish signifies my journey , it starts off with my heritage and roots - this being the base flavours of masala, Granadilla and Smokey Braai flavours ( Braai: South African cooking method ) , these flavours represent where my journey began. At the same time showcasing my beliefs of respecting the ingredients and using them with integrity and love , expressing my beliefs through food . My journey was not an easy one , but I made sure it was colourful, vibrate and bold.

A Chef is someone able to forge a connection between times and who can intertwine the strings of time to create something beautiful. Food is central to our sense of identity. The way any given human group eats helps it assert its diversity, hierarchy and organisation, but also, at the same time, both its oneness and the otherness of whoever eats differently. I wanted to create a dish that reflects my background who couldn't think i would love pigeon.

Raised in Herefordshire, a largely overlooked area producing some of the UK's finest raw ingredients, I have a proudly British identity focussed on celebrating local farmers. I'm working with wild boar from the Forest of Dean due to its local and invasive nature. The dish then boasts the bounty of produce and flavours available from Herefordshire's farmers. Food should be exciting yet approachable, but also sustainable, low-waste and deeply connected to local communities and landscapes.

I think that cooking in our future will be simpler in a way. I think the best food is created with us allowing our ingredients to be who they are, by being intentional with each ingredient we choose and how we decide to work with them. I use the term happy food not just when someone feels joy eating, but as the cook who gets to reflect on a time in their life because they got to cook their dish.

From the Valley to the Shoreline reflects my culinary identity as a chef working in Napa Valley. Through wild California razor clams, local verjuice, coastal seaweeds, and vine shoots, I express the connection between land and sea. This dish celebrates local producers, seasonality, and a product-driven approach rooted in French technique while looking toward a more sustainable future for fine dining.

Through this dish, I express my journey from a small town in India to Europe and New York. Banana blossom reflects my roots and childhood, sunchoke represents discovery and growth, and chanterelles embody my connection to nature through foraging. Together, they tell a story of heritage, curiosity, and my belief that exceptional plant-based cuisine can be both deeply personal and globally relevant.

“Encouragement” is the theme of my dish, where ingredients, methods and cooking processes reflect the people, who at first glance might seem to be the simplest ones, those hidden behind the scenes. As in life itself, sometimes those elements need a little push to get them on stage, making them realize that they too can reach its fullest explendore.

I created these dishes by reminiscing about the morning's picking. The first thing we did in the restaurant before setting off to pick mushrooms was to drink our coffee. I made my first plate with mushrooms, coffee and chocolate, with a few crisps to remind us of our foraging trip. My second plate is to take you with me on a foraging trip, to walk in the forest and find all the things you can find in the woods.

As a child, poultry with crayfish was a dish that left a deep impression on me. Today, I reinterpreted it in my own way. My grandfather from Vendée raised his own poultry, while my Breton grandfather took me fishing. I grew up between these two worlds – land and sea – and this is the duality I want to express on the plate.

Breton lobster replaces the crayfish: the same spirit, drawn from my roots. My cooking is defined by bold, honest flavours, influences I embrace openly, and a desire to connect with people in a simple, direct way.