60 years of living laboratory
I've been cooking since I was tall enough to hold a wooden spoon, and today, at sixty, I look back with a perspective that only time can provide. My life has been a living laboratory, an ongoing experiment in the effects of food on the body and mind. I have seen all the fads, all the miracle diets, all the promises of the food industry come and go. I saw the world get excited about fat-free, then gluten-free, then all-vegetable. But amid this tumult, one truth has remained constant: What really works is simple cooking, based on raw produce, few ingredients and a complete absence of fast carbs.
This continuity of sixty years is not a simple accumulation of days; it’s an accumulation of evidence. I observed how my body reacted to each change, how my energy fluctuated based on my culinary choices. Time has acted as a filter, eliminating the superfluous and the false to leave only the essential. Today, I don't cook by theory, I cook by certainty. I know what nourishes and what poisons, what gives strength and what creates fatigue. This experience is my most precious treasure, and it is the foundation of everything I share.
Health as silent testimony
We can debate nutrition on paper indefinitely, but the only judge of peace is the body. At sixty, my body is my best testimony. I have no diabetes, no high blood pressure, no heart problems. My weight is the same as it was in my twenties, and my energy is more stable today than it was then. It's not a matter of luck or exceptional genetics; it is the direct result of sixty years of conscious choices. My health is not an accident, it is a daily construction.
This stable and uneventful health is proof that my culinary philosophy is correct. It shows that a diet low in carbohydrates and rich in essential nutrients is the natural mode of use for human beings. By avoiding repeated glycemic attacks, I preserved my vital capital. My body doesn't fight against what I give it; he feeds on it with gratitude. This silent but powerful testimony is what gives strength to my words. I'm not selling a diet, I'm showing a life path that has proven itself over the long term.
Transmit the lived truth
When I pass on my cooking to my children and grandchildren, I do it with absolute confidence. There is no room for doubt or hesitation. I don't tell them 'try this, we'll see', I tell them 'here's what works, here's what will keep you strong and clear'. This authority does not come from a diploma, but from a lived reality. Children are extremely sensitive to authenticity. They sense when advice is purely theoretical and when it is rooted in deep experience. My trust creates their adoption.
Transmitting the lived truth is offering them a precious shortcut. It’s about avoiding the traps I fell into, the mistakes I made out of ignorance. It’s giving them the keys to their own resilience from a very young age. Seeing their father and grandfather vibrate with health and energy, they understand that food is a tool of personal power. They don't just learn recipes; they learn to respect themselves and their own biology. It's the greatest gift I could leave them.
The clarity of absolute certainty
With sixty years of experience, we lose the desire to compromise. I know too well what it costs to deviate from the path of rightness. I no longer try to please trends or adapt to social expectations if they go against health. My cooking is uncompromising because it is based on certainty. If an ingredient is not of maximum quality, I don't use it. If a cooking method distorts the product, I discard it. This rigor is not rigidity, it is clarity.
This absence of doubt is an immense force in transmission. It creates a secure and coherent framework. Future generations need solid benchmarks in a world that is increasingly confused when it comes to food. By offering them a flawless philosophy, I give them a compass. They can adapt it, of course, but they will always have a reliable reference point to return to. Certainty is an inheritance that allows us to move forward with courage and determination in life.
A philosophy for centuries to come
What I leave behind is not a book of complicated recipes that no one will have time to follow. It is an approach, a philosophy of the essential. It is the understanding that health is our most precious asset and that cooking is the way to preserve it. This heritage can be adapted to any terroir, at any time, because it is based on universal principles: simplicity, quality and respect for natural cycles.
Sharing this knowledge is a true vocation for me. Seeing the positive impact of these changes on your daily life is my greatest reward. Low-carb is not just a diet, it is a philosophy of life that I strive to make accessible and delicious for everyone.
