The story
Time for a pause, Sèna's Table
How Sèna Sublime came into being
I have always loved recipes, from everywhere, from every corner of the world. I still remember being flat-out captivated by the colours and the pairings.
My friends loved coming over to eat. They would say: "We know we'll be eating something we've never tasted before." Then, once the meal was over, the awkward question: "So when are you opening a restaurant?"
I found everyone far too earnest about it — a career, a calling. Why should anyone know what they want at twenty-two? I didn't. Or rather — I knew what I didn't want. I did try the restaurant life with two of my aunts who ran one. I hated the experience. Too repetitive.
Then in January 2025, after very long years, everything started to take shape. Above all during that pregnancy, my fifth. My body had simply stopped answering: too much exhaustion. I wanted only one thing — to listen to Gregorian chant and pray the rosary. No more meditation, no more visualisation. Nothing that came from elsewhere. Everything led me back to where I came from. I felt very calm, at peace.
And it was there, at last, that I could hear her — that voice, a woman from the lineage who had broken every rule. She said:
— What if you took a pause?
— I'm not sure you're looking closely, but I'm in the middle of one. With this baby, there's no way to do anything else. I think I've lost my mind. I used to feel swamped, utterly at the end of myself. How on earth am I going to manage?
— It looks to me as though you're managing beautifully. You seem calm and at peace. Your body is refusing to take the old road.
— Which road?
— Suffer, run, don't listen to yourself. Be productive.
— Isn't that what it takes to succeed?
— I know you already have the answer. It's what you're doing right now.
— Doing what, Ma?
— You're taking a pause. Like a sauce cooking on a low flame. It takes its time; it lets the ingredients marry completely.
— I wouldn't call it a pause. It has taken decades.
— Let the spices soak into the fish overnight — the fish will only be the better for it.
— Overnight? For me, my whole life has been that night before.
— The world hurries you. Go faster, run, it's urgent. And yet you waited, and waited with courage. And what came of it, do you think?
— The project goes beyond anything I imagined. I love it. It brings together everything I care about: cooking, design — the play of colours —, the love of languages, parenthood, children.
— You're ready. There are no more obstacles. You needed certain experiences for this to be possible at all.
— You mean, becoming a mother?
— That, and other things besides. You have the right to find your voice much later than others. What matters is finding it. Since you love to run, you'll now be able to fly…
— Weren't you talking about a pause?
— You'll know how to stop when the time comes, won't you?
It's between two simmering pots that I began to write. Between a sauce reducing on the stove and a child calling out for me. Not in a study, not in front of a blank page, not in the silence one imagines any work of art requires. But there, at the very heart of the noise, of the mess, of the things spilling over and the dishes that didn't quite come together.
I understood that it was precisely there — and nowhere else — that what I wanted to say was being born.
Out of that understanding, Sèna Sublime came to be. A digital publishing house where philosophy is no longer set against cooking, where parenthood is no longer the enemy of thought, where the most ordinary daily life becomes the place of every revelation. Six books in the making, each one born of a kitchen gesture and a truth spoken at table.
Sèna's Table isn't a piece of furniture. It's a place without walls where I set down what I am learning, what I doubt, what I pass on. You're welcome at it.
Sèna
To go further into the philosophy behind this house, read My Story.
To discover the six books in the making, the collection is here.