The Seamstress and the Cook
It could be an Andersen fairy tale. It’s simply HABILE. Period. Dad stitches and mom sews, Éric is the chef, Camille is the boss. A beautiful novel, a beautiful story, a romance of today, they met on the highway to bliss and have never left it.

ERIC
Apart from spending time with Camille and their offspring, there isn’t much else that makes Éric happy.

Since the first time this charming teenager set foot in a kitchen, transforming raw ingredients into something new has been an endless and tireless adventure.

From Paris to Los Angeles, from San Francisco to Ibiza, through Sardinia and Toulouse, Éric has learned. Most importantly, he has understood what he does not want to do: soulless recipes with faceless ingredients for interchangeable customers.

At HABILE., in the dining room, the cellar (converted for tastings and private events), or at his table in the kitchen, this talkative chef engages you in conversation, with words and with food.

The dishes flow without subtitles. If we have to explain, we’ve failed.

The diner comes to enjoy a good time, not to attend a Science-Po exam.

 

CAMILLE
Anyway, Camille is here to keep an eye on things, with a palate as sharp as her tailor's scissors.

The meal is sacred. If the cooking gives her a hard time, it drives her crazy.

Better not eat than eat badly. A family thing. She always saw her computer engineer father filling Excel spreadsheets with recipes from top chefs, spending hours in the kitchen, and sending her to serve his 18-course menus. Since then, he's been making his own olive oil too.

Camille chose fashion over beef stew (though...). Alexander McQueen, Marc Jacobs, Chloé, three Michelin stars.

Then, determined to make her mark, she launched her own line: HABILE.

And her first piece? An apron for her lover, of course. It sits on one of the hangers at the top of the stairs, alongside Camille's other creations, a stylist responsible for choosing the fabrics and the small hands that make them.

 

THE PLATE
Since cooking became sexy, since restaurants entered pop culture, since food started making headlines, we are required to name it, surrounded by the dark heroes of the lexicon.

Culinary vocabulary takes care of its SEO.

At HABILE., we first eat Éric's soul, central to the dish. Camille's palate refines it. While elsewhere, we sometimes lose ourselves, here the approach is resolutely bistronomic.

Three ingredients, good, clean, and sustainable, three times everything rather than three times nothing. And something happens on the plate, the boredom disappears. Beetroot, raspberry, hazelnut, the unbeatable favorite, or cauliflower, crouton, lemon—everything pulses but stays in balance. 'It’s like a chair, on two legs, you fall over; on four, there’s always one floating in the air.' Eric likes stools. He aims for precision, not 'Scandinavian minimalism or Levantine baroque.'
Focus on the essentials, purify, always ask the question: 'What do we remove to make it better?'
And make it good, not just beautiful, the flip side of Instagram. This doesn’t stop us from creating paintings in the style of Yves Klein, monochrome dishes on colorful plates. And start again, as we define.