The Cypriot chef, who conquered Paris and passed away last Saturday, is remembered by his friend Daphne Prodromou

By Daphne Prodromou

Andreas Mavrommatis was the first person who spoke to me on the very first day I set foot in the vast and chaotic Jussieu amphitheatre in Paris in 1979.

First lecture: psychoanalysis in literature. I still remember the awe and the fear. I had never seen an amphitheatre before, I didn’t know what psychoanalysis was, and I barely even knew what literature was. My French was, to put it mildly, terrible – just like Andreas’ at the time, even though he had arrived in Paris two years earlier.

And so, in that silent anxiety of trying to understand what was happening around us, we found each other. At that moment we didn’t know it, but it was a small salvation for both of us.

Andreas was sleepless, tired, almost exhausted. He worked 10-hour shifts late into the night at a not very good Greek restaurant on Rue Mouffetard in order to make ends meet. He told me he was from Agios Ioannis of Agros a village I had never heard of before. I was from Nicosia, from a more urban life, and I remember feeling a bit embarrassed about this.

In the years that followed, Andreas became my reference point. Paris was beautiful, but inaccessible – a city that enchanted you while constantly reminding you that you were an outsider. In that feeling of remoteness and loneliness, we had each other.

And gradually, Andreas began to shine. He loved psychology and philosophy, but was unable to resist the pull of the kitchen, ending up at Le Monde Culinary School. When he stepped into his kitchen, he was a changed man. That was where he truly felt free. Like a small child playing with his toys – with joy, curiosity, and a creative fire you couldn’t ignore.

He wasn’t just hardworking. He had that rare talent that cannot be taught – a deep, almost instinctive relationship with taste, creation, and beauty. And alongside that, a quiet but unshakable determination. The kind that makes no noise but never stops.

His first restaurant was almost a hole in the wall – a small place in Paris’ 5th arrondissement, that had started out as Mavrommatis Deli in 1981, selling Greek and Cypriot products and eventually became a restaurant.

The first restaurant was next to our school and called Délice d’Aphrodite. In 1993 he opened Mavrommatis restaurant and two Bistrot Mavrommatis. He won a Michelin Star in 2018. In 2006 he also opened a restaurant in Cyprus, at the Four Seasons hotel in Limassol, which three years later was renamed Vivaldi by Mavrommatis.

Modest, almost invisible within the city. And yet, something unique was happening inside. Andreas never stopped changing the dishes, tweaking them, recreating them from scratch. Nothing was ever finished. Nothing was ever enough. He worked relentlessly, with a creative restlessness, as if chasing something only he could see.

He didn’t follow rules. He broke them – and rebuilt them in his own way.

There were no “easy years.” There was an unimaginable desire to earn his place in world of French cuisine. Step by step, day by day, dish by dish. And what he achieved was rare: a journey built almost entirely with success.

From a small hole in the 5th arrondissement, he went on to create a powerful brand that spread across the most iconic parts of the city – from Galeries Lafayette to the Champs-Élysées and Faubourg Saint-Honoré.

His restaurants became meeting places for heads of state, powerful business figures, diplomats, artists – and even the self-important professors from our school.

And yet, behind all of this, Andreas remained the same.

Many decades have passed since we first met. And yet, regardless of how many years we had lost touch for, we always found each other again with the same affection, as if not a single day had passed since that first meeting.

It wasn’t the American dream. It wasn’t an easy success story.

It was something more real. More difficult. It was a stubborn Cypriot, who started from a small mountain village in the Pitsilia region, with absolutely no advantages. All he had was his talent, his vision, and a deep belief that he could go where he dreamed.

Mavrommatis’ funeral will be held at 1pm on Sunday, March 22, at Archangelos Michael church in Ayios Ioannis Pitsillias.