We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Marie Delepiere. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Marie below.

Marie, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today What sort of legacy are you hoping to build. What do you think people will say about you after you are gone, what do you hope to be remembered for?

I want to inspire a deeper connection to our planet, reminding people of the beauty and responsibility we have in caring for the Earth. My legacy will be one of determination and resilience, proving that no matter how many times life shifts, we always have the power to reinvent ourselves. Like planting seeds and patiently watching them grow, I believe that with time, love, and dedication, even the smallest actions can lead to profound change.

I have transformed my life many times, embracing uncertainty as an opportunity rather than a setback. I want to show that everything is still possible—at any stage of life—if we trust in ourselves, embrace change, and move forward with courage. I believe in the magic of second chances, in rewriting our stories, and in turning pain into wisdom.

A core part of my legacy is my creativity—expressing my soul through ideas, art, and innovation. I want to leave behind a trail of inspiration, proving that creativity is not just a gift but a way of seeing the world differently, of shaping dreams into reality. Whether through words, art, or new ways of thinking, I hope my creativity sparks imagination in others, encouraging them to explore their own unique voice.

My culinary creativity is another way I share my love and passion with the world. Food is more than nourishment. It is a story, a memory, a connection to culture and emotions. Through my dishes, I hope to preserve traditions, evoke stories, and inspire new experiences. Cooking is an art form, a love language, and a way to bring people together. I want my culinary legacy to show that food is not just something we eat like a vital function, but something we feel, share, celebrate and transform.

By staying true to our hearts and values, by daring to dream and daring to act, we can create a life filled with meaning, kindness, and infinite possibilities. Every moment is a chance to begin again, and the best chapters are yet to be written.

Passionate about storytelling through food, I’m working on a new Culinary Memories Podcast, a platform where guests share personal culinary experiences while cooking meaningful recipes together. This project merges my expertise as a private chef and Pastry chef, my deep culinary heritage, and my love for connecting people through shared memories and flavors. Culinary Memories Podcast bridges generations and cultures through the universal language of food. By sharing these intimate culinary stories, I aim to celebrate heritage, preserve traditions, and inspire listeners to reconnect with their own food memories, with themselves or their loved ones.

Marie, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I am a passionate creator, storyteller, and culinary artist, deeply connected to the idea that food, creativity, and personal growth are all powerful forms of self-expression. My journey has been one of constant reinvention, shaped by resilience, curiosity, and a desire to leave a meaningful impact on the world.

I have always believed in the magic of transformation whether in life, in the kitchen, or in creative pursuits. Over the years, I have embraced change, allowing myself to evolve, explore new paths, and redefine what is possible.

My love for cooking began long before I even realized it. As a child, I was always fascinated by the kitchen, the scents, the sounds, the magic of ingredients transforming into something comforting and delicious. Some of my fondest memories are tied to food: the aroma of a family recipe simmering on the stove, the joy of baking something from scratch, the way a single bite could transport me to another time.

I grew up in Provence, a breathtakingly beautiful place where the air is filled with the scent of lavender, fresh herbs, and sun-ripened fruits. The region is known for its vibrant markets and an abundance of delicious, healthy ingredients—but despite being surrounded by this richness, my family’s meals were often made of cans and the frozen food.

I was one of four children, and my mother, struggling with depression while raising us, never found joy in cooking. It simply wasn’t her priority. The kitchen, instead of being a place of warmth and tradition, felt more like a duty to her than an act of love while my dad was working and absent.

At the age of 11, I lost my aunt, the person who felt like my heart’s true mother. Her absence left a void in me, and without realizing it, I turned to cooking as a way to process my grief. The kitchen became my refuge, a space where I could create rather than feeling lost in sorrow. Cooking wasn’t just an activity. It became a form of survival, a way to transform pain into something tangible and nourishing.

I wasn’t particularly good at school. I was a dreamer, someone who struggled to find my place within my family and the world around me. But in the kitchen, I felt at home. There, I didn’t have to fit in—I could just be myself, experimenting, discovering, and pouring my emotions into every dish I made. Cooking became more than just preparing food; it became my language, my escape, and ultimately, my way of finding meaning in the chaos.
At first, I cooked simply out of curiosity and love, experimenting with ingredients, recreating dishes from memory, and adding my own creative twist to classic recipes. Over time, I realized that cooking was more than just a hobby. It was a way for me to express myself, to explore culture, and to share something meaningful with others.

A few years later, after studying law and criminology—driven by a deep desire to make a difference and, in my own way, save the world—life took an unexpected turn. I fell in love with an Italian man, and through his grandmother, I discovered the heart and soul of Italian cuisine. She taught me the secrets of traditional dishes, the importance of patience, and the beauty of simple, high-quality ingredients.

Not long after, I met my ex-husband, a Vietnamese chef and Martial art Master, and it was on his side that I reconnected deeply with my culinary passion. Our journey together led me to explore the intricate flavors of Asian and Vietnamese cuisine. We ran two successful restaurants and a catering company, traveling the world in search of inspiration, flavors, and dreams. Every journey added new layers to my culinary identity, expanding my knowledge and creativity. During this time, I also wrote a cookbook, which was distributed across Europe, a milestone that felt like a celebration of my love for food and storytelling.

Then, everything changed the day I first set foot in New York. The city’s electrifying energy awakened something inside me that had long been buried. At the time, I was immersed in Vietnamese cuisine, working alongside a deeply traditional Vietnamese family. While the experience was rich and rewarding, I often felt confined by cultural expectations that made it difficult to step outside the box. New York, with its freedom and endless possibilities, offered me a new kind of air to breathe. It took years, but eventually, I made the bold decision to expatriate my family and start anew.

I had been in New York for just a year when COVID happened, shattering every plan I had envisioned. We had moved to the city with the dream of launching a major project centered around Vietnamese cuisine, but as the world came to a standstill, so did our ambitions. Everything shifted, and in that stillness, I found clarity.

Rather than letting uncertainty consume me, I chose to reinvent myself once again. I turned to pastry—a childhood dream I had long buried and threw myself into it with an unstoppable hunger to learn. I trained myself for 18 hours a day, watching videos, devouring books, practicing endlessly. And then, as if the universe had been waiting for me to be ready, opportunities began to unfold.

For the first time, I wasn’t just following a path—I was creating my own. I had finally embraced who I truly was, not just as a chef, but as a dreamer, a creator, and a woman who had spent a lifetime transforming challenges into art.

I decided to move to Los Angeles, driven by an unshakable feeling that my next chapter was waiting for me there. In just a few weeks, I packed up my life, grabbed what I could, and set off on an unforgettable road trip across the country with my young son. It was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life—a journey filled with open roads, breathtaking landscapes, and the quiet realization that I was once again stepping into the unknown to start over.

I settled in Studio City, ready to rebuild my life, but reality quickly struck. The city was still in the midst of the second wave of COVID, and instead of feeling like a fresh start, it felt isolating—vast, unfamiliar, and nothing like the energy of New York. It was a challenging time. I had just separated from my husband, and suddenly, I was navigating single motherhood, a new city, and a career that felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

Building a name as a Pastry chef in a new place was not easy. I had to hustle hard to make ends meet, taking side jobs as a French teacher, a manager in a healthcare company, and running pop-up events… anything that allowed me to stay afloat while keeping my passion alive. There were moments of doubt, exhaustion, and frustration, but deep down, I held onto the belief that I was exactly where I needed to be.

Then, one day, everything shifted. I had been in a manifestation mindset for weeks, tirelessly working on my website, putting my intentions into the universe, and asking for a miracle. And as if on cue, the universe delivered.

In the meantime, I signed up on Yelp to gain more visibility, and at that moment, the platform offered me a one-month free trial. Long story short, I received a phone call from someone who saw my profil on Yelp, offering me a private chef position. Just like that, my professional path took yet another turn, proving once again that every challenge, every detour, and every moment of faith leads exactly where it’s meant to.

Today, I continue to work as a private chef, creating beautiful meals for families, intimate dinners, and special events. At the same time, I still run my pastry company, allowing me to express both sides of my culinary passion—cooking and baking. I am a fulfilled chef, I have honed my craft across different cuisines and techniques, blending French, European, Asian, and Mediterranean flavors with a creativity that has only deepened over time.

Yet, deep within me, my dreams continue to evolve. My ultimate vision is to open my own pastry shop, a place where my creations can bring joy to people, where every bite carries a story. At the same time, I still feel a strong connection to my journey with Vietnamese cuisine, and I often think about launching a project that would celebrate and elevate those flavors in a meaningful way.

Beyond the kitchen, I want to share stories. I dream of starting a podcast where I explore the powerful connection between food and memory, diving into the emotions, traditions, and personal histories that shape the way we cook and eat. I also envision launching my own YouTube channel, a space where I can bring my culinary creativity to life, inspire others, and build a community that shares my love for food.

At my core, I know that my purpose is to create, connect, and love because without inspiration and creation, there is no life. My journey has taught me that reinvention is always possible, that passion is the thread that ties everything together, and that the best flavors—like the best moments in life—are the ones that come straight from the heart.

We’d love to hear about how you met your business partner.

I had been working for several years, dedicating myself to develop my husband’s restaurants in Paris, highly successful. We had a thriving catering company, were teaching cooking classes, and had even published a successful Vietnamese cookbook. But behind the success, there was immense pressure. It was a family business, bound by tradition, expectations, and a sense of duty.

At that time, I had just become a mother, and I felt myself changing, evolving. My vision for life was shifting. When my husband and I visited New York for the first time, something sparked in us. The energy of the city was electric, filled with possibility. We dreamed of bringing our culinary expertise there—opening a restaurant, starting fresh, chasing something bigger.

But when we shared our excitement with the family business partners, they weren’t interested. So, we buried the dream and went back to our daily grind—12-hour days, nearly seven days a week. The routine became suffocating. I found myself thinking about New York every single day.

Then, one day, a client at our restaurant introduced us to Claude Louzon, the founder of Paradis du Fruit, a famous restaurant chain in France. We met, and almost instantly, it felt like fate. We had a shared vision, and before long, we decided to partner together to develop a new Vietnamese restaurant concept. For my husband and I, it was a potential way out—an escape from the confines of family expectations and an opportunity to finally create something of our own.

But as we were preparing to launch, I had a realization that collaborating with a businessman in a language that was completely unfamiliar to us made things even more challenging. We were used to speaking the language of passion, creativity, and culinary artistry, while he spoke the language of business, strategy, and numbers.

At times, it felt like we were talking two different dialects, trying to bridge a gap between dreams and reality, vision and execution. We had to navigate contracts, negotiations, and expectations in a world that was foreign to us—one where emotions and values didn’t always hold the same weight as financial projections and feasibility studies. I wasn’t ready. I was a young mother, overwhelmed by my responsibilities, and deep down, I felt an urgent need for freedom. And It was not easy to I tell my husband, “If you want to do this, go ahead. But I can’t follow you on this journey.”

He chose to stay in the family business, and a few months later, I made the difficult decision to leave it altogether. We lost the trust of the family, the partnership, and my job—but for the first time, I felt free. And I knew I needed to find my own path.

More than anything, I wanted to start over in New York. It took years to secure a visa, filled with setbacks, challenges, and battles within the Vietnamese family. By March 2019, we finally got the visa, and once again, the opportunity to work with Claude Louzon (founder of Paradis du Fruit in France and much more restaurants concepts) was on the table. But this time, something felt different.

Despite our past connection, we weren’t aligned anymore. He saw business in terms of green and red lights as a great business man, while I was still seeing it as a reflection of values, dreams, and purpose. At the time, I didn’t have the clarity to bridge those perspectives, but looking back, I understand now neither of us was wrong. We were just not on the same page at that time and I was not ready to jump in this professional adventure. So for the second time, I decided to let go of the collaboration and this time I knew that another chance wouldn’t come back again.

If I could do it over again, I would have taken more time to balance perspectives, to understand that business and personal philosophy can coexist. I grew up in France, where success especially financial success is often viewed with skepticism. We are conditioned to believe that making money is somehow wrong, even if we work incredibly hard for it.

Living in the United States has changed my perspective. I now embrace success as something positive, as something that can be built with integrity, heart, and ambition. I’ve learned that you can be aligned with your life philosphy and still thrive in business. It’s just a matter of perspective and mindset.

What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?

I grew up with a very strict mother who had high expectations, always striving for perfection in every aspect of life. She wanted us, her children, to be flawless, disciplined, accomplished, and without mistakes. My father, a landscape architect, carried that same pursuit of perfection in his art, meticulously shaping nature into beauty with precision and patience.
My mother was also a pianist, and from a young age, she taught me how to play. But more than just music, she instilled in me an extreme sense of perfectionism, every note had to be precise, every movement controlled, every mistake something to be corrected, not embraced.

Growing up in this environment where my mum was repeating often “I made perfect kids”, I internalized the idea that success meant flawlessness, that to be good at something, you had to be perfect at it. All my life, I chased perfection, believing it was the only way to avoid disappointment— theirs, others and mine. I pushed myself relentlessly, measuring my worth by how flawless I could be. Mistakes felt like failures, and any imperfection felt like a sign of weakness.

And yet, I chose pastry, a discipline that demands precision, perfection, and determination. Every measurement must be exact, every technique mastered, every detail carefully executed. It seemed like the ultimate challenge—one that aligned with the perfectionism I had carried for so long.

But pastry also taught me something unexpected. While it requires discipline, it also allows for creativity, patience, and trust in the process. I learned that even the most structured art form has room for imperfection, for intuition, for personal expression.

In the end, pastry became more than just a craft: it became a lesson in balance, showing me that while technique matters, true artistry comes from passion, resilience, and embracing the beauty in the imperfections.

I always say that perfection is driven by ego and by fear; fear of disappointing others, fear of not being enough, fear of making mistakes. It keeps me trapped in a cycle of self-doubt, constantly seeking approval and validation.

But excellence comes from the heart. It is born from passion, love, and a deep connection to what we create. When we shift from striving for perfection to pursuing excellence, we allow ourselves to be fully present, to grow, to make mistakes, and to evolve. From the heart space, we can create with authenticity and truly connect with others.

Perfection is rigid. Excellence is fluid.
Perfection seeks approval. Excellence seeks fulfillment.
Perfection is exhausting. Excellence is liberating.

From the moment I let go of perfection, I stepped into my vision of excellence where I could create, explore, innovate and embrace who I really am.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.aimerbymarie.com
• Instagram: @aimer_by_marie
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/marie.delepiere/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/marie-delepiere-05b2359b/
• Youtube: www.youtube.com/@delepieremarie5849 6 subscribers 3 videos 457 views Joined Sep 13, 2020
• Yelp: Aimer By Marie

Image Credits

Cecile Delepiere
www.larealstory.com
https://www.instagram.com/la.real.story?igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==