A Taste to Remember! The Unwavering Passion and Culinary Journey of Chef Teppei Shiromizu of 【L'eau Blanche】

ーーーWhat inspired you to become a chef?

Since both of my parents worked, I often cooked from a young age, and through those experiences, I grew to love cooking. As far back as I can remember, I already had the desire to become a chef. In fact, in a writing assignment from the third grade of elementary school, I wrote that I wanted to be a chef. So, I believe this profession is my true calling. I used to cook simple dishes like pasta and serve them to my family. Even during middle school, I would invite friends over and cook for them. I loved cooking, of course, but I also enjoyed making people happy—it all just fit together naturally.

When I decided to pursue a culinary career, my homeroom teacher in high school recommended that I attend “Nakamura Culinary School,” so I chose to study there. Shortly after enrolling, there was a personal interview session. When I wrote on my interview sheet, “I want to make it big as a chef,” a French cuisine instructor saw it and recommended that I experience the culinary world at 【Hôtel de Mikuni】. This led to an on-site training opportunity. During the training, I was struck by the intensity of the professional world—serious adults fully immersed in their craft—and I was overwhelmed. It made me think, “If I work here, I might be able to grasp something truly valuable.”

After graduating from culinary school, I fulfilled my dream of getting a job at 【Hôtel de Mikuni】. Up until then, I had a bit of a wild style, but for the entrance ceremony, I shaved my head down to five millimeters to show my commitment. At the ceremony, Chef Mikuni himself spoke to me. When I told him, "I shaved my head out of pure determination! I'm ready to devote my life to this place," he responded, "You're assigned to the main branch."

At the time, 【Hôtel de Mikuni】 was said to be the best restaurant in Japan. Around 30 new recruits were hired from all over the country, but only two were assigned to the main branch. Later, I heard from a senior colleague that Chef Mikuni had talked about me in the monthly magazine Chef, saying, “A guy like a kamikaze soldier came from Fukuoka—I'm excited to see what he can do.” When I found that out, I was so happy I even told my mother.

ーーーNow that you had begun your career as a chef, are there any memories that stand out?

During the first year of employment, there was a strict rule that new staff members were not allowed to touch knives. The very first task of the day was “polishing pots.” Initially, two of us new recruits were assigned to this job, polishing a large number of pots. But after about two months, the other person quit, and I was left to do it all by myself.
At first, I couldn’t get the hang of it—it took a long time, and I was often told to redo things. But as I continued to search for ways to be more efficient and accurate, I gradually developed the ability to think and adapt. Eventually, my efforts were recognized, and my work began to gain acknowledgment.

One day, there was talk that Chef Mikuni—who had a close relationship with the legendary French chef Michel Troisgros—would be going to the Tsukiji market with him in the morning. Only a handful of people could accompany them, and of course, I desperately wanted to go! I mean, who wouldn’t want to tour Tsukiji with such a world-renowned chef you’d normally only see in books? (laughs)
I was so determined to join them that I decided to finish polishing the pots before the scheduled meeting time. After service the night before, I pretended to leave but secretly returned to the kitchen and, more motivated than ever, began scrubbing the pots through the night.
By sheer coincidence, Chef Mikuni showed up, and I earnestly told him, “I really want to go to Tsukiji with you, so I’ve been polishing the pots!” Thanks to that, I was granted permission to join the trip. It’s still an unforgettable memory for me.
That experience taught me a valuable lesson: if you approach every task with sincerity and care, someone will notice—and you’ll gain something from it. That steady accumulation of effort truly matters. Looking back, nothing has been tougher than those days. And if you ask me whether I’d want to go through it all again... well, I’m not so sure! (laughs)

ーーーIt sounds like your training days were filled with both curiosity and a strong desire to grow!

I was always eager to learn more, so I proactively asked to be taught, but I was often told, “It’s too soon for you,” which led to a lot of internal conflict—I kept wondering when I would finally be allowed to do more. That’s when I decided to use my days off. Instead of resting, I would visit other restaurants on my one weekly day off to ask for guidance and learn new techniques. At the time, my desire to improve my skills far outweighed my need for rest.

I was fortunate to have the opportunity to train at 【Auguste de Jour Merveille (Nihonbashi)】, and I was struck by how kind everyone was and how calm the chef was. It was eye-opening to see how different work environments could be, depending on the restaurant. I received guidance from Ippei Matsumoto (now owner-chef of 【La paix】), and thanks to his invitation, I was officially offered a position at 【Auguste de Jour Merveille】.

Although I had made a fresh start, a few months later I was involved in a traffic accident and couldn’t work at all for three months. I felt terrible for causing so much trouble, and I made up my mind to return with even greater passion once I recovered. After returning to work, I immersed myself in studying cuisine to the fullest, determined to repay the kindness I had received. I continued for about two and a half years, during which time the company expanded. One day, the president approached me and said, “We’re planning to open a new restaurant—【Auguste de Jour Merveille Hakata】—and I’d like you to take charge.” That’s how it was decided that I would return to Hakata.

ーーーSo did you head straight to the Hakata location?

There was about a year and a half before the new restaurant would be completed, and I had always wanted to try working in France at least once. I started thinking hard about how to make it happen, and after explaining my situation to a chef who had always supported me, he introduced me to an auberge in the Limousin region.I went to France, and in hindsight, it was probably reckless—but somehow, despite having no sense of the area and very little money, I made it to my destination safely. That’s when my live-in job began.

One of the most valuable experiences I had was being put in charge of the "menu dégustation" (the restaurant’s recommended course menu). I was given the opportunity to choose ingredients myself, think about what to create, and actually prepare the dishes. That became a major learning experience for me.When I worked in Tokyo, I had access to ingredients from all over the place—it was an environment where you could get just about anything. But in the French countryside, that wasn’t the case at all. At first, I struggled with the limited availability of ingredients. However, I eventually realized that even rural areas are full of wonderful local ingredients and that their flavors are truly exceptional. That discovery made me think: when I return to Fukuoka, I want to go around and visit as many local producers as I can.
During my time there, the restaurant gained popularity when a Michelin inspector visited, and my coworkers even invited me to their homes. It was a short stay, but it gave me a glimpse into the French lifestyle and even their philosophical outlooks on life. All in all, it was a deeply enriching experience.

ーーーIt sounds like your time in France was incredibly fulfilling! Could you tell us about what happened after you returned to Japan?

After returning to Japan, I became the head chef of 【Auguste de Jour Merveille Hakata】. At the time, I had a mohawk, wore a black chef’s coat, and rarely spoke—I had a sharp, mysterious vibe. But despite that appearance, my delicate cuisine created an interesting contrast that people seemed to enjoy (laughs).
I always made it a point to visit each table after the meal to greet the guests, and they were often surprised. But in the end, I think they appreciated my sincerity and took an interest in my food, which helped me get off to a good start.

Just as I had promised myself during my time in France, I visited every local producer I was curious about, one by one. Using a wide variety of local ingredients became one of the restaurant’s highlights and was well received. For four years, things went smoothly.
However, operating the restaurant at full capacity every single day took a toll on the staff. Everyone was worn out, and I realized, “This way of doing things isn’t sustainable.” It was a turning point—I had to reassess the current situation. After thinking carefully about what I could do, I decided to take on a new challenge and began working toward opening my own restaurant.

ーーーSo you weren’t originally planning to go independent?

At the time, I never really had the intention to go independent. What I constantly felt was a deep sense of gratitude for being given the opportunity to be a head chef, and I wanted to repay the people who had supported me. My desire was purely to spread the appeal of the restaurant even further—I hadn’t thought about going out on my own.
When I finally shared my thoughts about independence with the company president, he gave me his full support. After that, I began searching for a location to open my own restaurant, but I couldn’t seem to find the right place. Then, by chance, I ran into the owner of the building we're in now. I explained my situation, and they kindly invited me to open my restaurant here. And just like that, I had found the perfect location for my new beginning.

ーーーSo you finally opened your own restaurant!

Despite delays in construction, the building was eventually completed, and as I was preparing for the opening, my eyes happened to land on the calendar—Wednesday, April 6, 2016. I noticed that “April 6” (in Japanese, 4 = "shi", 6 = "ro") sounds like “white,” and it was a Wednesday, which in Japanese is associated with “water.” I thought, “This is perfect—it's ‘Shiromizu Day’!” and decided that would be the opening date (laughs).When I saw the many congratulatory flower arrangements that arrived for the opening, I was once again reminded that I had made it this far thanks to the people I had met and the kindness I had received.The following year, I was selected as the Kyushu representative for “French Restaurant Week,” and it was a great honor to stand alongside so many renowned senior chefs. That moment gave me both pride and a sense of accomplishment. Even after receiving such a prestigious opportunity, I never let it go to my head—I continued to face my customers with sincerity every day.Then came the news that we would be listed in the Michelin Guide, and we were awarded one Michelin star. What made me happiest of all was seeing how much joy it brought to my family and to those who had always supported me.

ーーーIt sounds like you had a smooth and successful start!

Not quite. Just when I thought things were off to a great start, the COVID-19 pandemic hit. It felt like everything I had built up until that point was being erased.However, looking back now, I realize that it also gave me something valuable. I had been working nonstop up until then, so it became the first time I could really slow down and spend meaningful time with my children. Up until then, my hobby had essentially been my work. But during that time, I went camping with my family and tried things I had never done before. It allowed me to rediscover what it means to live a rich and fulfilling life, and I think that perspective brought a shift in the way I think about cooking as well.During the pandemic, when restrictions were placed on restaurants, I saw a commercial from a company that said, “Life needs restaurants.” That message deeply resonated with me. Doctors can heal the body, and we in the restaurant industry can heal the heart.As a restaurant, we have the ability to offer people a place of comfort, a space for memories—and that’s a role I want to continue to value. That realization has brought me to where I am today.

ーーーWhat do you value most when creating your dishes?

In the past, when cooking, I would start with a desire to express or convey something to the guest—say, the fresh aroma of spring when using seasonal ingredients. I would first imagine the feeling I wanted to evoke, then think of ingredients that matched that inspiration. I avoided too many rounds of trial and error so that the initial spark wouldn’t fade, instead refining the concept thoroughly in my mind before actually cooking.Lately, though, I’ve reached a point where I can cook more spontaneously, inspired on the spot just by touching the ingredients. It feels as though the experience I’ve built up over the years and the direction I want my cuisine to take have finally come into alignment. There’s a real sense of confidence and clarity now.

When welcoming guests, something I always keep in mind—no matter the situation, the person, or their age—is to send each guest home with a smile, so that they can face tomorrow with a sense of happiness. It’s not about putting on a show just because there’s a media interview. I believe it’s the consistent, genuine care I show every single guest that has led people to continue loving this restaurant.

ーーーDo you have any visions or goals for the future?

I advocate what I call the “Make the World Smile Project,” and my first goal is to spread happiness, starting with my staff and the people around me. I think one of the challenges of being a chef is that our creations don’t leave a lasting form. Unlike music or art, our work doesn’t remain—and the number of people we can move at one time is also very different. A live concert can excite tens of thousands of people all at once, but as chefs, we can only serve the guests right in front of us.
That’s exactly why I want this restaurant to be a place where every guest who takes the time to visit walks away happy. If someone leaves with a smile and tells their loved ones, “I’m so glad I went to 【L'eau Blanche】,” I hope that joy ripples out to those around them as well.
Moving forward, I will continue to prioritize the smiles of the guests right in front of me, one at a time.

ーーーFinally, what does “delicious” mean to you?

To me, “delicious” is like a black hole. I’ve spent so much time thinking about what “delicious” truly means. Over the years, I’ve experimented with everything—cooking in the moment, colors, aromas, how ingredients are cut and plated. But ultimately, I believe what determines whether something is delicious goes beyond just flavor. It includes the condition of the guest, the timing of the meal, their physical state, who they’re dining with, and their personal preferences. The overall experience of the meal plays a huge role.

Also, I believe it’s important that the chef is in a good mental and physical state as well. When a chef is enjoying the act of cooking, it leads to more flexible ideas and better-quality dishes.
Until now, I’ve expressed “delicious” through what’s on the plate, but moving forward, I want to express a more complex version of “delicious”—not just through taste or presentation, but through something that includes my own personality. There’s no end to what I want to explore.
Of course, having a guest say “this is delicious” the moment they eat it is wonderful—but what makes me happiest as a chef is when someone remembers a dish even a week or a month later. That, to me, is the true meaning of “delicious.” Even if they don’t remember my name, if they can say, “That dish I had back then was amazing,” that would be the greatest honor.

Throughout his life, Chef Shiromizu has consistently faced his craft with sincerity and unwavering dedication. As a culinary professional, he believes that creating something delicious is a given—but what he truly strives for goes beyond just the flavor on the plate. He aims to deliver a deeper sense of satisfaction, one that includes the atmosphere, shared memories, and emotional connections.
His earnest passion and his refusal to become complacent—always embracing change and thinking with flexibility—are qualities that many can learn from. Why not visit 【L'eau Blanche】 and experience the heartfelt philosophy behind Chef Shiromizu’s cuisine for yourself?

Interview & Text / AutoReserve Magazine Editorial Team
Photography / Masato Suzuki