Rue Blanche Portrait

BENEDICTE BANTUELLE

When we arrive at Flamme, the Brussels restaurant co-owned by the self-described “couteau Suisse” (Swiss army knife) Bénédicte Bantuelle, the day is quietly suspended between morning and midday. Soft light filters through the windows. We talk about her unexpected path: from theatre director to wine enthusiast, sommelier to self-taught restaurateur. “For me, it’s always about storytelling,” she says. In the open, gleaming kitchen, food, fire, and connection are all part of the script. Throughout the morning, there’s an easy rhythm in the kitchen: jokes fly, sleeves are rolled, everyone moves with confidence and trust. When the guests start to arrive, the music turns up. Plates move faster. Voices rise. A kind of lived-in, well-rehearsed, chaotic choreography takes over. The kind that’s a joy to witness, and more so a joy to be in.

 

At Flamme, the Brussels restaurant co-owned by self-described “couteau Suisse” Bénédicte Bantuelle, soft light fills the space as morning shifts to midday. We talk about her path from theatre to wine, sommelier to self-taught restaurateur. “It’s always about storytelling,” she says. In the open kitchen, food, fire and connection play their part. As service nears, the pace quickens, music swells, voices rise. A joyful, slightly chaotic, but well-rehearsed choreography takes over. The kind that’s a joy to witness, and more so a joy to be in.

 

 

Photography by Cécile Hanquet

Interview by Merel Daemen
 

 

You co-own a restaurant in Brussels. How central is food to your life?

Even though I’m not the head chef of my own restaurant, food is very much at the heart of my life. When I started Flamme, I was actually working as a sommelier. Cooking in a professional kitchen takes a very specific skill set: technical precision, deep knowledge, and strong organisation. I really admire that, but it’s not my natural strength. At home, I keep it simple. After 60 hours a week surrounded by food, I just want something quick and easy. Most often, it’s pasta.

If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, would it be pasta?

No, probably French toast (pain perdu).

What is always in your fridge at home?

Cottage cheese.

Always something unexpected in store.

Flamme’s co-owners, Bénédicte Bantuelle and Hanne Deroover. 

 

So if I understand correctly, you’re actually a sommelier? How did you go from that to opening a restaurant?

I didn’t train as a sommelier, I actually studied theatre directing. During my studies, I worked in a restaurant and quickly became fascinated by how food could tell a story. Not just through taste, but through everything around it. After my studies, I started creating immersive dining experiences that combined scenography, performance, and food. I was already thinking about ecology, origins, and the meaning behind ingredients. I also became deeply interested in atmosphere: the space, the lighting, how all of it shapes how we experience eating.

So that was the start of Flamme?

Not yet. After graduating, I launched Studio La Bouche, a creative studio focused on immersive, food-related experiences. One project that stayed with me was a dinner for a customer in Brussels. They asked for something unexpected, so I found Hôtel les Tourelles, a crumbling old hotel with all its original furniture and wallpaper still intact. It felt straight out of an Agatha Christie novel. The place was incredible. We lit the entire place by candlelight and created an atmosphere that felt like a classic murder mystery setting. It was chaotic and magical. That kind of storytelling — shaping a full experience around food — is what eventually led me to open a restaurant.

 

Bénédicte styles the Salvi jacket and Kilum trousers with her own striking red sandals

Chocolate fondant and pistachio praline.

 

That kind of storytelling — shaping a full experience around food — is what eventually led me to open a restaurant.

 

Bénédicte wears Wona trenchcoat and Myta denim trousers.

Pickled radishes and turnips.

So then you started Flamme?

No, not quite yet (smiles). Before opening Flamme, I opened a gastronomic restaurant called Bouchéry with my then-boyfriend, who’s a chef. It still exists, but when our relationship ended, I stepped away.

How do you look back on that ending?

I try not to be a dramatic person. And all in all, I feel genuinely grateful. It was a very meaningful chapter. After art school and Studio La Bouche, running that restaurant taught me so much about gastronomy. Saying goodbye is a natural part of life. C’est la vie, you know.

So you look back on it fondly?

I do. Bouchéry taught me about the elegance of hosting, and the rhythm and structure that hide behind a beautiful meal. My ex is an excellent cook, and together we explored food and nature deeply. That’s also when I started foraging wild herbs, something I still do for Flamme, now and then. It takes time to pick, clean, and prepare, but the taste is unique. And for me, spending a few quiet hours in the countryside is a real luxury. 

What non-food ritual is essential to your daily rhythm?

Meditation.

A quiet window in Saint-Gilles.

Second-hand Bruno Rey chairs casting shadows on the terrazzo floor.

The interior of Flamme is quite distinct. What was your vision for the space?

My main idea was to remove the barrier between the kitchen and the dining room. The kitchen is right in the middle. I wanted it to feel open, transparent. It’s not about making something fancy or beautiful in a traditional sense. We didn’t have a big budget, but we used what we had to create a place that feels honest. I think you can do a lot with very little, if the intention is strong.

Is there a restaurant you dream of visiting, but haven’t yet?

Sukiyabashi Jiro, a tiny sushi restaurant in a Tokyo subway station. It only seats ten people and serves nothing but sushi. 

Is there a city whose food scene you find inspiring?

Istanbul. 

Bénédicte Bantuelle knows exactly what bottle your day calls for.

Bénédicte wears Salvi jacket, Colline top, and Kilum trousers.

 

Bouchéry taught me about the elegance of hosting, and the rhythm and structure that hide behind a beautiful meal.

 

No sommelier speech needed.

At Flamme, every dish is born from open fire.

The kind of research we can get behind.

Yesterday’s orders.

What characterises Flamme?

The atmosphere and the open fire placed right in the middle of the restaurant. From the moment you walk in, you smell the bois brûlé (burnt wood). That scent is part of the experience. We cook everything over open fire, so that is central to the identity of the place. That’s also where the name Flamme comes from. Every dish "touches the flame".

Talking about scents. What is the scent that instantly transports you to good memories?

French toast (pain perdu). 

What dish on your menu feels most personal to you?

The French toast!

Being a sommelier, what do you look for in the wines that you serve at Flamme?

After more than 15 years working as a sommelier, I’ve come to believe that wine is all about balance, between personal taste, the producer’s intention, and what the guest enjoys. I don’t want to be pretentious about it. I want people to have a good time. That said, I care deeply about how a wine is made. I try to work as much as possible with small-scale, organic, biodynamic producers who respect the land. Not all natural wines are good, of course, but when it works, it can be truly beautiful. For me, a great wine has freshness, balance, and a sense of place. I like when you can taste the minerality. 

 

 

Rue Blanche wardrobe draped across a chair. Styling: accidental.

Bénédicte wears lilac ribbed vest.

 

You started Flamme with your friend, Hanne Deroover. What is it like co-running the place?

I chose a woman this time as business partner (smiles). It’s more interdependence than co-dependence, if that makes sense. Everyone brings their own strengths. We’re very much a team. We work side by side in the kitchen, though we leave the title of chef to someone else. We both cook, but we’re also involved in shaping the atmosphere and direction of the restaurant. We’re both like couteaux suisses (Swiss army knives) doing a bit of everything. That’s just part of owning a place like this.

What qualities do you admire in others?

Their peace.

What qualities do you admire in people you work with?

Humility.

How is Flamme different from your previous restaurant?

Bouchéry is very gastronomic. Flamme is a bit louder, literally! The music is up, the vibe is more casual, a bit chaotic, but it’s an organised chaos. 

What do you want people to feel when they step into your restaurant?

I’d like them to feel comfortable enough to settle in, to relax, to really be present. I want them to enjoy themselves, take their time, talk with the people they love. Also that they eat well, of course. And maybe that something surprises them, a detail in the food or a moment with one of the waiters. We try to keep things light.

Serious restaurateurs. 

Bénédicte wears the denim Abio shirt

Bénédicte in motion. Trust the chaos. It’s part of the recipe. 

What was the cook book that shaped you?

The Noma Guide to Fermentation.

What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received from a guest?

When someone tells me that everything feels coherent. The food, the plates, the lighting, even the mood of the staff. That’s the best, because it means they felt the whole story.

Would you say your sense of style has changed since opening the restaurant?

Definitely. I used to care more about fashion; now I care more about feeling like myself. At Flamme, we all wear our own clothes, not a uniform. Even if they end up smelling like fire, I prefer it this way. I like to feel comfortable. There’s this oversized vintage shirt with pink stripes I love; it probably belonged to someone’s father. 

For me, great style is when it looks like you didn’t try, but every detail is right. That balance is thin, because beautiful pieces can still feel wrong if it feels too calculated. What matters is coherence. In an outfit or a restaurant, when things simply make sense together, that’s elegance. 

How does femininity play into that for you?

I think my manner can be feminine. How I speak, how I move, how I relate to people. But I don’t necessarily need to dress in an overly feminine way. I wear clothes that feel good on the body: often oversized, soft, with room to breathe. I like to show myself without showing or reveal too much. For me, femininity is about how you feel and not how you dress.

 

 

What matters is coherence. In an outfit or a restaurant, when things simply make sense together, that’s elegance. 

 

Bénédicte showing us The Noma Guide to Fermentation. She wears the lilac cotton vest and the denim Abio shirt