On February 15, I was invited by Chef Sebastien Salomon to his pop-up dinner, On Ti Gou Lanmou. I had followed his journey on social media, captivated by his undeniable culinary prowess. What sets him apart is his unwavering devotion to Haiti. His food is storytelling in its purest form, bringing together tradition and innovation in a way that feels both familiar and unexpected. He remains committed to preserving the essence of Haitian flavors while embracing modern techniques, reminding us that, at his core, he is still just a kid from Haiti, cooking from memory, feeling, and love.
His menu, Ti Gou Lanmou, meaning “a small taste of love,” was more than a meal. It was a love letter to Haiti, an intimate retelling of his journey, a sensory map of his memories plated for us to experience. There is an undeniable connection between food and memory. A single bite can transport you across time and space, back to your grandmother’s kitchen, to a Sunday gathering, to the scent of epis sizzling in a pot. Taste, smell, and texture do more than nourish the body; they awaken something deeply personal. They bring back the hands that stirred the pot, the voices around the table, the warmth of home.
