When the pressure of overseeing two buzzing Paris kitchens begins to wear on Esu Lee, he visits NASA’s Instagram for a cosmic perspective check. “Sometimes it’s good to cut off what’s happening on this planet — what a relief," says the chef behind the acclaimed restaurants JIP and Orson. “I want to live long enough to see what they're going to find out.”
Back on Earth, Lee has been making breakthrough discoveries of his own. Raised in Ulsan, South Korea, he moved to Sydney at 18 to train at Le Cordon Bleu. After arriving in Paris, he opened C.A.M. Import Export with a partner in 2017. Bold combinations and elegant execution made the converted souvenir shopfront an instant sensation with the city’s creative class, drawing the Fashion Week crowds as well as the admiration of Alain Ducasse himself.
At the height of the hype, a visa issue sent Lee back to Korea, where a brief visit to a Buddhist temple turned into a five-month stay. The unplanned retreat proved serendipitous: Lee arrived with a roaring mind, but the simple routines and unadorned vegetarian meals of the temple helped restore his balance. He returned to Paris a more deliberate cook, grounding his astral imagination in Asian flavors, French techniques, and a profound respect for terrestrial ingredients.
That equilibrium now animates two very different Paris restaurants. JIP, an intimate space in the 11th, introduces warmth and discipline to set menus — one vegetarian, one that features seafood and occasionally meat — that are intelligent but accessible. Anchored by an open fire, the newer Orson in Saint-Germain is untamed by design, with a shape-shifting concept that channels the audacity of youth. At Orson, change is the through line: The restaurant’s name alludes to the French word for teddy bear, but Lee is quick to point out that a bear is also a beast. “This is a new kind of experiment,” he says. “Making tasty food is mandatory, but I need to be brave. It always comes back to that.”
How did you get started as a chef?
I watched Jamie Oliver’s show when I was young, and it was so cool. Food is all around our lives: Everyone cooks, you eat every day. I was amazed that someone could transform something we do every day into something an audience could be interested in. To me, it was like live art.
I moved to Sydney to go to cooking school and also to learn how to surf. When I first started, I didn't know how to make the sauce or the jus or the reduction. Everything looked like magic. But cooking is almost like a program, like computer software: Once you know how to use it, you can apply the formulas and build your own things. You can just play around with it.
What tools or materials are essential to your practice?
A thermometer. Temperature tells the truth. I don't like rules. I like art, I like the beauty of chaos. I don't want to follow the path people have already made. But to do that, I need something that tells me the truth. I need precision for something to not be precise.
Where are you currently finding inspiration?
These days, I’m inspired by variety. Different colors, brands, and patterns. Even the supermarket changing a font — just a little detail. I really enjoy paying attention to fashion, architecture and what’s happening in retail, because it shows what kind of world I live in and what the trends are. I think cooking is very similar to fashion or architecture. There's a moment, and I try to keep my eyes on it. When something's too obvious, I try not to do that.
What cultural patterns are you noticing right now?
Before Covid, when I had C.A.M., my first restaurant, it was easier to see what was happening in the culture and anticipate what's coming next. Nowadays it's really complicated. You’d think that the more experience you have, the easier the patterns would be to read. But actually, it's the total opposite. I pay attention to the culture, but it's a confusing time. A trend lasts three seconds now. The volume is crazy. There used to be moments with a strong structure — Impressionism, Post-Impressionism. Restaurant-wise, there was fine dining, neo-bistros, all these movements. The traditional idea of avant-garde has perhaps shifted into a new, more dynamic form. I’m thinking a lot about what that means and how I relate to it today.
How do you respond to the moment in your work?
At Orson, we change all the time. We did a tasting menu at first, now I’m doing à la carte. I did a big fish, and now I want to do small dishes. I was just in Korea for a Jacquemus event. Simon [Porte Jacquemus] is amazing with colors, so when I came back my style of cuisine changed again. I got into yellow for a few weeks, because that’s the color he used most. I’m going to change again when I come back from Berlin. So it is a new kind of experiment. All we can do is just change and change and see if it works or not.
Who or what has had the biggest influence on your work?
Jackson Pollock, Alice Waters, James Henry of Le Doyenné, Jeff Claudio of Stoke [in Berlin], and NASA.
Do you have a favorite flavor?
The clean taste of tomato water, or a radish and kombu broth. We shouldn't forget what nature can do. There's technique, of course, but sometimes you just need to let good produce do the work. Even if I’m trying to make a new genre or concept, I still live in the world. I shouldn’t forget what nature can bring to the table.
What do you hope people experience in your cooking?
The view I’m seeing at that moment. You know how when you're a teenager, it’s this very confusing time? You're in the middle of changing. This is how I feel in the world. Sometimes you wake up and feel like you know everything, but other days you feel powerless. That’s what I want to express through the food at Orson.
Ourson means teddy bear. It’s a very interesting perspective we put on the bear: It’s cute and cuddly, but it’s still a beast. It’s wild! It’s going to rip your head off. Like adolescence — I miss the time so much when I was 13, 14, 15 and thought my world was over if something happened. I think I was braver then because I always knew where to go. I had a home, I had my house, my parents, so whatever happened in my life, there was somewhere I could go back to. But now I'm an adult. Technically I guess I can go back home, but also I'm alone. I want to express this in-between feeling through the food. But it's hard! You have to channel that feeling, remember it, and do it as an adult.
What meal do you prepare for yourself most often?
Boiled eggs and sliced apple.
Do you collect anything?
I collect moments. I capture them on my phone and try to turn them into subjects. I take a lot of videos and photos without even thinking about it. And later, when I have a lot of photos, I make an album. I try to choose a collection of images that work together like a mixtape. Right now I have like 120 mini albums on my phone, organized by category. Fire is the collection I’m doing at the moment.
What is your most treasured object?
Letters from friends, family, and brands.
Do you have any vices or indulgences?
A cigarette with a Coke Zero when I get home from work.
Do you have any personal rituals?
Trying not to think about anything when I wake up, just lying in bed and doing nothing for a while. I think a lot, so I need some time to turn off this thing in the brain.
Which album will you never tire of?
12 by Beenzino.
What’s the last great book you read?
A Life with Hobbies by Kenji Maruyama.
Outside of the restaurant, where can you be found?
Mostly at work these days, or in parks in Paris. Every two or three weeks I go to Berlin, where my girlfriend and best friend live.
What’s the most valuable piece of wisdom you’ve received?
“We are made of star stuff.” —Carl Sagan
What advice would you give your younger self?
Slow down, and don’t be afraid to step away for a while to find yourself.
After C.A.M. opened, I had to leave France for a bit because of my visa, so I went to Korea. I visited the temple of a really famous Buddhist monk I had seen on Netflix. There’s a program where you can do a brief temple stay. After two days, I asked her if I could stay longer. I was honest: I came here because you’re famous but now I’m very curious about your life. I stayed for five months. It was really hard in the beginning. I couldn’t sleep. At the time, C.A.M. had big buzz — Fashion Week, artists, architects, so much energy going around in the restaurant. And then one day I wake up in the middle of nowhere in the mountains. I was in the most quiet atmosphere in the world but my mind was the loudest ever in my life. I decided to just be part of it. The noise in my mind came down. It can be emotional trying to do nothing, trying not to think — like you’re against the meaning of life. But it’s good to find that this is part of me. It’s a way of balancing my life.
Sagan
What are you excited to create next?
I’d like to work on a fun art project — something that delivers the direction and vision I’m seeing.