On February 9, 2026, the French postal service, La Poste, issued a stamp bearing the image of Paul Bocuse, "Chef of the Century," to commemorate the centenary of his birth.
And to think that, in the twilight of his life, he expressed doubts about the lasting impact he would have on history, less the small-scale history of gastronomy than the grand history of humankind: "After I'm gone, you can do what you want..." From the Paulo of his youth on the banks of the Saône to the celebrated figure in Gault & Millau, Paul Bocuse's life remained a constant emotional rollercoaster, between the overexposed chef and the everyday man, devoted to his friends, nature, and the river he never lost sight of, even from the other side of the world: the Saône. Of Monsieur Paul, of his Auberge – self-proclaimed “temple of world gastronomy” – without anyone finding anything to criticize, even today, everything has been said, or almost. And yet. A touch of melancholy lingers in the gaze of a man, “a poor man’s child who lives like a rich kid,” whose personality possesses a complexity that leaves its mark on both eras and minds. For Monsieur Paul was a contemporary throughout his life, always one step ahead, an iconoclast who, in addition to bringing cooks out of their kitchens, succeeded in elevating his profession to a new level of prestige. Sketching the life of the king of fine dining is a challenge in itself, so rich and complex was it. Yet, most people will remember two dates: 1961, when he received the title of Meilleur Ouvrier de France (Best Craftsman of France) ("The most prestigious, because it's a personal distinction we keep for life"), and then, four years later, his three Michelin stars (which he retained until his death).
This is how Bocuse, "the man from the countryside" in Old French, made his name a global icon.
"I don't copy, I do the same," he would say, with a touch of irony. The fact remains that the original is unique. Forever.
