Regional Finalists 2022-23

I sought to blend the flavors of Balinese cuisine with the memories of my roots in Tholen, a small village in the Netherlands, Zeeland province, historically renowned for its mussel culture. Now I am located in Bali, exploring, and tasting those amazing dishes and flavors. In this fusion, I weave together the essence of Bali and Tholen, capturing the essence of two worlds in one dish. It's a tribute to my journey, where the flavors of my past meet the spices of my present.

This dish originated from my love for the two countries where I spent the longest time learning to cook. The San Pellegrino Young Chef Academy, which I attended four years ago, gave me a broader vision. Having cooked in Korea, I relocated to Singapore for new experiences, and this dish captures the harmony between my two culinary homelands. I prepared it using hairtail fish, baechu cabbage, and mu radish, aiming to contribute to sustainability by utilizing every part 100% with no waste.

"[The essence of ingredients that are not wasted]

Born in Gwangju, I often enjoyed duck dishes with my grandmother as a child. Those meals taught me to appreciate ingredients and the importance of using them without waste.

For this main dish, I have utilized every part of the duck—from the breast and leg meat to a rich broth made from the bones. Through this dish, I hope to express my respect for the ingredient and the values that have shaped my passion for cooking."

Growing up in Busan and now cooking in Vancouver, I am inspired by two coastal cultures connected by the sea. Through oysters, sablefish, geoduck, and especially kim (seaweed), I express the relationship between Korean heritage and the Pacific Northwest. Seaweed is the thread that ties this dish together, reflecting both tradition and innovation. Using French and West Coast techniques, I want to tell the story of my journey between these two shores.

The message I am trying to deliver with my signature dish is the harmony. The orchestra that makes great music consists of many different instruments. None of them are unimportant. The same goes for our society. The world has been suffering from infectious diseases and wars, I believe we can build stronger and better society by weaving differences together. That is the reason why I picked ingredients from diffent places, which are the tree, the land, and the ocean to create greater synergy.

Svickova is more than a traditional Czech dish, it is a symbol of family, tradition, and home. My earliest memories are Sunday lunches at my grandmother’s table, where food brought generations together. At 18, I moved alone from Czechia to Vancouver and began as a dishwasher. Through mentorship, hard work, and years in professional kitchens, I became a chef. This dish honours my grandmother, my heritage, and the journey that shaped my culinary identity.

This dish represents me: german born i lived in Irleand for 10 years. North Sea Cod: Pan-seared to perfection, symbolizing my childhood fishing expeditions in northern Germany. Oyster: Representing Ireland, adorned with colors inspired by the Irish flag (green, white, and orange). Potato Salad with Beurre Blanc: Reflects my time in Hamburg and the elegance of Carls Restaurant. Mashed Peas: A nod to my Irish experience, complementing the traditional fish and chips.

The decline of traditional inns is a real problem. These establishments tell our culinary story and are an important part of local communities. What happens when no one is left to tell that story? This is exactly where my dish begins. I want to show how beautiful simple and traditional cuisine can be—viewed from a different perspective, but without losing its core values: craftsmanship, tradition, sustainability, and great flavor from great ingredients.

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.

This dish tells the story of my journey throughout my career, bringing together the flavours, techniques, and memories I’ve collected along the way. Inspired heavily by Barbados, the bold seasonings, vibrant colours, and lively energy on the plate reflect the warmth and culture that have influenced me most. Every element represents a place, person, or experience that has shaped my identity as a chef and my connection to food.

My dish is a take on the classic Spanish Suquet, it being the first dish I learnt to prepare. I grew up in India, a country defined by it’s food, but, as a chef, I have always tried not to be defined by my background. Working with traditional Spanish cuisine is inspiring me to believe that food should represent a chef rather than being confined to the expectations of what a cuisine should be. I have chosen to elevate a traditional dish, with elements inspired by my heritage.

This dish reflects my years discovering the UK’s terroir and the people behind it. Learning from farmers and artisans I met, Graeme’s fishing methods and Monika’s work with Mangalitsa pork showed me real respect for sea and land, while Ben’s plate made from refurbished wood revealed the region's sustainable craft. Working with local producers taught me connection and purpose. This plate honours their work and the journey, from the people to the plate.

I see cuisine as a means of transmission. It brings pleasure while questioning our relationship with living things. This dish embodies that belief. The Grise du Vercors, a breed preserved from standardisation, is used in its entirety. Guided by phronesis, I seek thoughtful choices rooted in its terroir. Each element conveys a simple idea: value lies in what we choose to preserve, despite time and constraints.

This dish tells my story, expressing my passion for mushrooms with a skewer of mushrooms, laced with their broth and miso. The other central element is the mushroom broth, present in almost every preparation. As a homage to France, I chose: onion soup with toasted bread for a no-waste policy. The casoncelli, representing my roots, are stuffed with broth scraps, juniper-smoked ricotta and Parmesan. The final broth, when drank, cleanses the palate.

I have to say that this dish means a lot to me, as part of my family works in livestock farming. As on most farms, they grow their own vegetables in a family garden, respecting the rhythm of the seasons. And the season of the chard coincides with the arrival of the fir buds, with their distinctive fragrance, which I have come to enjoy on my walks through the forests of the Pyrenees. It was to express my emotions in taste that I chose to naturally combine these two products.

The dish is a representation of my origins, I don't have a Spanish culinary tradition because my mother was born in Venezuela, and my father in Germany, although my grandparents and I are Andalusian.
I express in this gastronomic representation what I consider to be my causalities, the origin of my parents has had a direct effect on my concept of gastronomic culture.
There are three culinary elaborations with the same value: an Iberian consommé, a hallaca of cuttlefish and a red mullet cooked in a flame...

The dish idea combines Spain and Italy's linguistic and cultural ties, rich in shared elements I value. I'll merge Spanish stewed tongue with Italian cold tongue, reflecting my veggie passion. Ingredients like salsify, watercress, wild plants, and roots will be preserved, enhancing the dish and fostering a connection with nature.

I see the future of cuisine as a dialogue between cultures, tradition, and conscious choices. This dish reflects that vision: two-colored pasta filled with fish, shrimp, and sun-dried tomato, bringing together flavors of the sea and different culinary influences. The shrimp bisque with coconut milk and dendê (palm oil) adds depth, while cashew crumble and fish fumet espuma enhance texture and balance, allowing the ingredient to remain at the center.

The recipe I propose represents my path: past, present and future.The eel is the most convivial ingredient of my homeland, cooked by a grandmother who thanks to it was able to gather everyone around a table. present in my Sardinia, worked and structured manages to give new variations. The bittersweet represents my present, the combinations, the olfactory references and above all intrigue with the taste, are the pillars of my current cuisine.

My dish begins with an anthropological reflection. We live in an age that accelerates and standardizes. Food often follows the same path, losing memory and connection to place. This dish does not look at the past with nostalgia, but interprets an almost vanished ecosystem—carp, rice fields, and farm animals—as a lens for the present and my interpretation of rural cuisine today. In a world that rushes, I choose to slow down.Time is essential to understanding a territory and the knowledge it hold.

I began cooking out of necessity, having grown up without a safety net. Then it became a language. Caruggio tells the story of a walk through Sanremo, from the sea to the mountains, along narrow alleyways that bring contrasts together. It uses only ingredients found along this route, chosen for what they are. To me, respecting an ingredient means applying the right heat at the right moment. I want to create a cuisine that is clean, plant-forward and visionary. Not as a trend. As a responsibility.

In my childhood, my grandparents used to have Sunday family lunches and the dish I remember the most is the tongue in sauce, served with onion and coconut sauce. In my village we always accompanied the main course with bananas, even soups. That's why my interpretation was inspired by these Sundays with the family. I believe in local products and tradition, raising the level of the products of my village with modern techniques without losing the traditional flavour.

This dish embodies the richness of the Yucatán Peninsula. Through it, I want to portray the union between sea and land, and how that connection has shaped both my character and my approach as a chef. It brings together ingredients from the sea and from the backyards and ka’anches of local communities, highlighting the efforts of those who continue to cultivate the land and preserve its traditions. The concept behind the dish reflects my vision of how we can coexist with both the past and present of cuisine.

As a proud young Mexican chef, I honor my roots through local ingredients and ancestral traditions. Inspired by Oaxaca’s rich culinary heritage, my dish expresses identity, memory, and resilience. It celebrates Latin American unity by highlighting our shared history, vibrant diversity, hard work and the beauty that emerges when our cultures come together through flavor.

This dish is inspired by my journey across China, from Kashgar to Hami in Xinjiang China, where I gathered inspiration from what I saw, heard, and experienced. It incorporates a variety of Xinjiang ingredients and cooking techniques, expressing my love for the region. I used the spice rub from Xinjiang's traditional whole roasted lamb to slow-cook the Xinjiang Altay lamb eye meat over charcoal, resulting in a flavorful dish.

Through this dish, I want to bring the focus back to cooking itself. We live in a time where everything becomes an image very quickly, and food is often judged by how it looks before people even taste it. For me, a dish should first be delicious, warm and satisfying. The picture is important, but eating matters more. I have put my memories, my background, and the way I understand food into this dish. I hope it can remind young chefs to come back to flavour, technique, aroma and cooking.

Every cooking session brings back Jilin’s New Year dishes: guobaorou, braised eggplant and pork skin aspic. With Western, Japanese and French skills, I reinvent these classics.I sous-vide pork loin coated with puffed quinoa, served with umeshu sauce and prickly-pear cold broth. Eggplant comes braised or charcoal-mashed, while pork aspic simmers in bone stock seasoned with soy, chilli and garlic oil.Hometown taste inspires my fusion innovation as a chef.

Due to the pandemic, everything closed and people with nowhere to go turned to forests and parks. This dish is created upon mixed feelings of all beautiful tastes and aromas that forest gives and all despair of trash, tires, cut off tries in forest I have seen by walking every day in forest...

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.

Over 800 million people around the world go to bed hungry each night. At the same time, one third of all the food that is produced for human consumption is wasted, and obesity is one of the western world’s most pressing health issues.

Hunger is one of modern civilization’s great paradoxes, since it is a problem that already has a solution. The cure for hunger is called food – and we already produce too much of it.

 

It’s been three years, that I have seen my family due to the pandemic, three years since I've been to my ancestral home in ‘Aurangabad’, a city with a high Muslim population. The very place where I truly appreciated the true diversity of my cuisine and culture.
This dish is an amalgamation of my childhood, my roots and the vision I have to see my cuisine on the global stage amidst all its diverse and colorful glory. Where people do not just tag it as a “curry cuisine” but see it for what it is

This dish expresses my journey of identity shaped through memory and emotion. Growing up in North India, seafood felt unfamiliar until my father brought southern flavours into our home. What once felt strange slowly became comfort, connection, and belonging. Through this dish, I honour those early moments and how they evolved into who I am today, expressed through flavour, technique, and a deep emotional link to family and home.

Through this dish, I wanted to link my 2 countries of affection which are France, my country of origin, and Australia, the country that welcomes me.
For this, there was no question of importing products from Europe, nowadays I believe that it is up to our generation to limit the environmental impact through our cuisine.
So I looked for products grown and appreciated in each of the two countries, I then selected them individually from local producers, every single product comes from Queensland.

This dish stems from the global need to change the fine dining concept. I believe that the process of dining in a restaurant should be more educational, interestin and enjoyable for guests, with the help of other arts such as theatrical. With this dish, I will conjure up a performance about Sava Savanović, the first Serbian vampire, and country i came from, with the fact that in dish food will play the main role, where each segment of the dish will tell its own part of the story in this play.

The story behind this plate starts with a deer and pumpkin. Because I want to take every chance to make my own home grown plants, last spring I planted pumpkin seeds at the edge of the forest, 50 meters from my restaurant. One morning when I walked to my pumpkin field to check up with my ripe pumpkins, I saw that one had a bite taken off. I knew that there has been a deer eating my pumpkins. That is why I decided to connect three main ingredients: Deer, pumpkin and mushrooms. This is my story.

By presenting this dish i would like to convince people that we chefs are not only people that stand for many hours in front of the frying pan. We can all agree that we identify ourselves as artists. Plates for us are like a canvas for a painter. We create and express ourselves on it. Just like Leonardo da Vinci did and others. It’s not only our work but a big passion for life that we want to share with people in the restaurants like artists share their creations in galleries. WE ARE ARTISTS!

I have always been inspired by the way my family in Greece and Italy embrace food, especially coastal fare. In my professional career I have learned so much more about traditional French and Japanese technique, and through this dish, I have found an all encompassing way to convey my passion for food.

This dish is a walk through the garden — every part of the bird used, every element drawn from the land around it. It is rooted in years spent at The Chef's Garden in Ohio, where I learned that nothing is waste and everything has flavor. The whole bird mirrors the whole plant: nothing discarded, everything transformed. I want the person eating this dish to feel the same wonder I felt walking those rows — that food, at its best, is an act of attention.

I believe great cuisine is created through balance: honoring tradition while embracing new influences. My foundation comes from French training in Paris, where I became fascinated by the Japanese influence on modern French cuisine, particularly its emphasis on seasonality, restraint, and clarity of flavor. Through peak-season cherries, plums, and duck, this dish reflects my belief that the most meaningful cooking comes from respecting the season and allowing ingredients to speak for themselves.

This dish represents the Italian immigration in Belgium in the 20th century, for working in the coal mines. My family is from this history. The carbonnade is Belgium, the raviolis is Italy, and the vegetable charcoal the raison of this immigration. I want to cook the pigeon “des Collines”, because it’s an exceptional product but also, it reduces the carbon foothprint instead of using beef.

When I started to create this dish a lot of people told me not to do it because it contains too much work.
So this explains my stubbornness and love for the work. The sweet potato also became my personal logo.

I want to express that you can make things very complex without a million technics. sometimes a pure product has his own complexities.

My cuisine champions a respectful approach to ingredients and local producers. I seek to make the most of every part of the animal to reduce waste and pass on genuine culinary knowledge. Through this dish centered on pigeon, mushrooms and potato, I want diners to experience the flavors of a Belgian autumn and enjoy a vibrant tasting journey designed to showcase each preparation and tell a story over the course of the meal – all with sincerity and a spirit of sharing.