Some restaurants feed you. Others feed your soul. Odette does both, one perfectly imperfect meal at a time.
Julien Royer launched Odette in 2015 with a clear blueprint: quiet precision, grounded execution, and a philosophy centered on strict discipline.
Nearly a decade later, Odette stands as one of Asia’s most respected fine dining brands. It holds three Michelin stars, two Asia’s Best Restaurant titles, and a team whose continuity reflects rare internal strength.
But how can a brand achieve this level of permanence without ever chasing attention?
Odette offers an answer grounded in operational clarity, creative restraint, and long-term alignment between its product, people, and place. It advocates systems that are built deliberately, run consistently, and refined over time.
This is the story of a brand that scaled influence quietly, grew without dilution, and redefined modern luxury through restraint.
When Homesickness Becomes Heritage
The name Odette carries the weight of memory across continents.
In the mountains of Cantal, Auvergne, his maternal grandmother’s kitchen became Julien Royer’s first-ever culinary classroom. Her lessons? The most fundamental training in produce, tastes, seasonality, and the pleasures of eating.
“My mum would pick wild raspberries, which my grandmother Odette would make into jams,” Royer recalls in an interview with Tatler Asia. “As a little boy, barely tall enough to reach the kitchen counter, I would stand on a stool and watch how she would prepare these freshly picked fruits.”
That memory travels with every guest who dines at Odette today. Each one of them leaves with a small jar of house-made preserves the flavor of which changes with the seasons, but the intention never does.
The Alchemy of East Meets West
Royer arrived in Singapore in 2008, cooking “French-French” classics, as he puts it. Classic techniques, classic ingredients, classic expectations. But something funny happened after 15 years in Asia – he started cooking like he actually lived there.
“Our cuisine has evolved a lot from something very French to something with a lot of zest from Asia,” he told The Beat Asia. “This evolution is evident in our use of ingredients, cooking techniques, tastes, and aesthetics.”
Take his signature pigeon dish. It’s crusted with Kampot pepper from Cambodia, served with yakitori made from the heart, and presented in a Chinese bowl. It’s French technique with an Asian soul, and somehow it works better than it has any right to.
Or the foie gras that swims in Vietnamese pho-inspired broth, surrounded by herbs that would make a Saigon street vendor proud. It shouldn’t have worked – foie gras in pho sounds like fusion gone wrong – but it does, because Royer understands something most chefs fail to: Adaptation isn’t betrayal.
Today, the restaurant sources 70% of its produce locally, working with Southeast Asian farms to bring ingredients like Jade Tiger abalone and kegani crab to plates that respect both their origins and their potential.
The Weight of Three Stars
When Michelin called in 2016, Royer missed it. Twice.
He was in the kitchen, doing what chefs do during the chaos of service, when his phone kept buzzing with private numbers. By the time he picked up on the third call, he was so flustered he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.
Two stars. Not one. Two.
“I was so stunned I was not sure if I had heard him or her correctly,” he admitted to the Michelin Guide. When his wife came home and asked about the call, it was the first time he’d said the words out loud: “I think it was two, but I was not sure.”
Then came the real test – calling his parents back in France. “We were all in tears on both ends of the line,” Royer said. Because this wasn’t just about him anymore, this was about that little boy who used to help his grandmother in the kitchen, about parents who watched their son leave for Asia with nothing but dreams and stubbornness.
Three years later, the third star came. This time, Royer was ready. He hugged the Michelin mascot on stage like they were old friends.
However, that moment also changed the temperature around Odette.
Inside, nothing was overhauled. There was no new menu concept or dramatic reinvention. But the expectations, both from diners and the team, shifted. With three stars came global attention, and with it, a new kind of pressure: not to ascend, but to hold steady. That meant protecting what was already working.
The Team That Cooks Together, Stays Together
In an industry where chefs jump ship faster than rats, Royer has built something rare: loyalty.
Levin Lau has been with him for 13 years. Adam Wan for 10. Yeo Sheng Xiong for over a decade. In restaurant years, that’s basically a lifetime marriage.
“We already have this automatism in the kitchen where we can read what each other needs,” Royer told Tatler Asia, and it’s not even a brag. Because finding people who understand your vision is hard enough. Finding people who’ll stick around to perfect it? That’s magic.
When COVID hit, and Singapore went into lockdown, Royer’s first thought wasn’t about lost revenue or closed doors. It was about his 50 employees.
The answer was “Odette at Home” – a delivery service they launched in two days that kept everyone employed and the restaurant alive. Not because it was profitable (it probably wasn’t), but because some things matter more than money.
Growing Pains and Honey Dreams
Success breeds ambition, and Royer’s got plenty of both. But his focus has never been on scale for scale’s sake.
Louise in Hong Kong earned a Michelin star in 2020 by standing on its own merit. Claudine in Singapore continues to mature the space between bistro and fine dining with the same intention that shaped Odette.
The priority now is depth. Claudine’s rooftop terrace is active. The team harvests its own honey. The R&D kitchen is fully functional, driving menu trials and seasonal development. A patisserie is underway. A vegetarian fine dining concept is in planning. None of it is reactionary. Every step is deliberate.
“I want Odette to be an institution in French fine dining in Singapore.” That kind of permanence doesn’t come from acclaim alone. It comes from building with intention. One meal. One memory. One jar of jam at a time.
