Francis Mallmann connects people, food and philosophy on his private island in Patagonia

On a deserted island in Patagonia, Francis Mallmann sets fire to the conventions of modern-day cooking—and the odd fish and potato, too

As a chef, Francis Mallmann does the unthinkable—he leaves dirty tables untouched, uncleaned, overnight. But there is method to his madness.

“When I invite people home for dinner, I never clean the scene. I leave everything as it was when everybody left,” he says. “In the morning, I wake up very early, and I sit and look at everything and try to read what happened the night before. There’s a gesture in every glass, a story in the napkins and dirty dishes. Then, slowly, I will start to tidy up.”

He pauses, then adds, “There’s an equal amount of beauty in tidiness and untidiness. It’s like happiness and sadness—they are great friends, and they must live together.”

Above Francis Mallmann hosts small groups of guests for an unforgettable culinary experience

Moments of silence and observation like these are sacred to Mallmann. Which is why, at 40 years old, he turned his back on decades of training in Michelin-starred kitchens, choosing instead to move to an isolated 6-hectare island in his home country of Argentina, called La Isla. The name literally translates to “The Island”. Here, twice per month, he welcomes two groups of up to 12 guests for weeklong stays, during which Mallmann and his team of nomadic cooks prepare meals for the guests outdoors over a fire, surrounded by the spectacular landscape of Patagonia.

Getting to La Isla is no easy feat. From the port town of Comodoro Rivadavia, it’s a seven-hour trip on dirt roads through vast ranches of grazing Argentinian cattle and eagles perched on worn-out road signs. The final leg is a one-hour boat ride across Argentina’s Lago La Plata.

Mallmann could, of course, make a killing if he built a helipad for the rich and famous who visit his island—previous guests include the likes of David Beckham and Guy Ritchie—but environmentalists warned that the birds and animals native to the island would suffer as a result of the noise. So the privilege of staying and dining on La Isla means making the pilgrimage.

“I think the most important ingredient in life is patience, and nature certainly has patience. I think we must learn to enjoy the act of waiting,” he tells me. “For example, waiting for love: I’ve been in love with a woman for four years, and before that, I waited for her for another four years. Good things take time.”

Above Francis Mallmann and his team prepare meals outdoors, over a fire

Above Meat, vegetables and even fruits are transformed by flames, coals and smoke

For Mallmann, cooking is an act of ritual and reverence, and it always begins with a deep respect for ingredients: a small sardine on a stick, slowly roasted over a fire in the sand, finished with a little lemon and olive oil. Mussels, in their shell, are smoked and slow-cooked over red coals and ash.

Whether it’s a roaring bonfire or just a whisper of heat, Mallmann is passionate about the magic that happens when meat, vegetables and even fruit are transformed by flames, coals and smoke.“The beauty of fire is how fragile it is,” he says.

Outside of meals, Mallmann can take guests on guided walks, imparting his knowledge of the natural world—he can predict the weather just by looking at the sky, and knows when mushrooms are starting to grow based on the bugs flying over nearby rivers.

“My relationship with the natural world started when I was very young; when I could feel in the silence of my afternoons after school with my dogs lying on the grass, looking at the rain and trees and snow and river and lakes, that they had a beautiful language,” he recalls. “That’s one of the biggest treasures I have in my life, that silent language I’ve learned from the geography of Patagonia.”

That connection and intuition have translated into the strict seasonality in his cooking, and his respect for the region’s bounty.

Mallmann says that his life, and the lifestyle he shares with the few guests who visit La Isla, is less an act of rebellion than a humble return to the joys, and what he calls “the truth”, of cooking.

The truth of cooking is not to try to achieve glitzy things; it’s about representing your heart and your soul in everything you do

- Francis Mallmann -

“The truth of cooking is not to try to achieve glitzy things; it’s about representing your heart and your soul in everything you do,” he says.

It’s a truth that he has sought—and succeeded—to find on his island, and one he hopes will inspire other chefs to seek authenticity rather than applause. And perhaps, on a broader scale, it will lead diners to question the models that continue to define modern dining.

“All these prizes in restaurants are constantly pushing chefs to invent something new. It’s bad teaching for young people who want to learn—they go directly to modernism and innovation, and not the roots of cooking that must be studied,” he says. “The stamp of quality must be related to the truth and core of what food is. [There is] nothing wrong with being innovative, but there’s such a beauty in history. There must be a balance.”

Where that balance lies is anyone’s guess. But for Mallmann, hope lies in his unbridled optimism that the next generation might just be the one to get it right.

“The young who are stubborn are going to change the world. They have very different ambitions than ours—we were collecting homes and cars, but they want to do incredible things. They aren’t as interested as us in money. Our planet is in bad shape, and they love it and they want to protect it,” he says. “I feel them holding hands around the world, and that makes me happy.”

TatlerX will be offering an unforgettable experience with Francis Mallmann, exclusive to our readers. Find out more here.

NOW READ

Underrated food cities for 2023, according to chefs & insiders

A food lover’s guide to Peru

The new Ritz-Carlton Melbourne sets sky-high standards for city hotels

Topics

Francis Mallmann Patagonia Travel Dining La Isla

Tatler Asia

Francis Mallmann on ‘the truth’ about cooking, and what lights his fire