Le Hameau de mon père

Since 2022 at the mountain pass

At the pass, Elise Veyrat works as chef at Le Hameau de mon père in Manigod, holding the line between a kitchen and an Alpine farm. She has held the role since 2022, while also serving as executive chef at Llantén in Valladolid, Spain. The split matters because it gives her two forms of discipline: the city dining room, where the plate must carry its own argument, and this Savoyard house, where family memory is built into the beams. Veyrat has described the property plainly: “In 1800, my great-great-grandparents raised cows, sheep, and chickens on this nineteenth-century farm, now my restaurant.” That sentence sets the terms of the work. The lineage is not borrowed atmosphere. It is the ground from which the menu begins, with local sourcing, farm-to-table habits, and the practical knowledge of a high-altitude place. Her role here is not a reprise of another kitchen. It is a station inside a family structure, with the past close enough to discipline the gesture.

Virtual Savoyard forms at altitude

The cooking at Le Hameau de mon père moves through a formal tasting menu, but its grammar stays Alpine: potato, cheese memory, pasture, herb, smoke, and the mountain habit of using what is near. The house names dishes such as pomme soufflée au foie gras virtuel, pâtes disparaissantes, and tartiflette virtuelle, each one taking a familiar appetite and making it less literal. That is the avant-garde part of the kitchen, not novelty for its own sake, but a method of loosening a regional dish from its expected weight. The chalet sits at 1600m altitude, a figure that reads differently on the plate than it does on a map. Herbs grow, dry, fade, and return according to the mountain’s own calendar; the kitchen has to listen before it can compose. The wine program is curated around that movement, supporting courses that can shift from vapor and root to broth and dairy without making the cellar louder than the food.

The room holds its quiet

The room is warm rather than grand, a chalet atmosphere with formal service and the hush that comes when a tasting menu asks people to pay attention. Mountain views, including Mont Blanc, sit beyond the glass, but the dining room does not need to announce them. The pass carries the energy: plates leaving in sequence, explanations of herbs at the table, the counter-rhythm of a kitchen that knows the room is watching even when no one turns toward it. The service style is attentive and instructional, but the best moments stay close to the material. A leaf is named. A texture is allowed to vanish. In Manigod, memory returns as tartiflette virtuelle.