The lights in the ceremony hall in Philadelphia, about a two-hour drive from New York, were blinding. Around the tables sat the biggest names in American cuisine, people accustomed to the spotlight, who know how to read the signs. Chef Orianne Shapira was not one of them.
“It was my first year at the Michelin ceremony. I didn’t know what to expect,” she said. “There were rumors that anyone getting a star already knew. I didn’t. I sat there with a glass of wine, restless, almost pulling my hair out from stress.”
Shapira, just 29, the chef of Shmoné, Eyal Shani’s New York restaurant, arrived at the ceremony with her partner, Lowell Miller, who manages the group’s kosher restaurants, along with other executives. “Even before the announcement, we saw the name ‘Shmoné’ starting to appear on the screen and we began screaming,” she recalled. The shouts of joy quickly turned into tears of emotion. “The entire year was built toward that moment. On stage, holding the award, I felt a moment of calm. All I thought was, ‘OK, I have peace for a week.’”
The road to the star was not paved with stuffed zucchini blossoms. A year earlier, Shapira stepped into big shoes at Shmoné, a fine-dining restaurant named for its location on West 8th Street in Manhattan’s West Village. The restaurant had already earned a Michelin star under the previous chef, Nadav Greenberg, and the transition was challenging.
“There were a lot of problems,” she admitted. “People didn’t accept me at first, didn’t like me very much, didn’t see me as the right person for the role. There was serious testing of boundaries. Things were said. In the end I had to let some people go and others left on their own. I replaced the entire team. Only after half a year, when things stabilized, could I start thinking about new dishes. Now most of the menu is mine.”
Isn’t it still Eyal Shani’s restaurant?
“Eyal chooses the chef and gives a lot of freedom,” she said. “He trusts us enough to make food inspired by him, food that speaks his language. He comes a few times a year and we cook together, go to the market. Sometimes something new comes out of it, and sometimes it’s just developing our thinking and creativity.”
So the star is truly yours, not just a matter of maintaining the status quo?
“That’s one of the reasons I was so happy. I went through the hardest year of my life. I was full of motivation, but constantly felt like people were trying to break me. I considered leaving, but I hate giving up on myself. If I had left, it would have haunted me forever.”
'He asked me: Do you know how to hold a knife?’
Shapira’s path to the kitchen was remarkably fast. She was born and raised in Haifa. Her father, an engineer, still lives there. Her mother works in New York in fundraising. Her older sister lives in Berlin with her family. As a teenager, Shapira was a professional ballet dancer. “Five times a week, several hours a day.” She inherited her love of food from her father. “We went to restaurants, talked about food, cooked together.”
After serving in the IDF as a commander in educational units, she debated studying design, styling or art. “My mom said, ‘Why don’t you study pastry? There’s a design element and you love cooking.’ I had no experience beyond making Tarte Tatin with my dad. I went to study at Danon Culinary Center and fell in love. I realized this is what I want to do.”
After graduating, she worked at the The Showroom Bakehouse in Tel Aviv, but quickly decided to deepen her knowledge. “I saw there was a restaurant management course in New York and decided to move there for a few months. I had a boyfriend at the time. I told him I’d come back. In the end, I didn’t.”
When she started looking for work, her father, who had served in the army with Eyal Shani, suggested she contact him. “I sent him a message: ‘I’m Dudi Shapira’s daughter. I just moved to New York and I’m looking for a job in pastry.’ He sent me a number for someone at HaSalon,” another Shani restaurant in New York. “I went to an interview. He asked me, ‘Do you know how to hold a knife?’ I said yes. He said: ‘Come on Thursday.’ That was it.”
That simple?
“That’s how it works in the group. They tell you to come, and if your energy is good, you work well and make good food, that’s enough. If not, they say goodbye. On the first day I was in shock, but I loved it. I made a salad, sent out the dish and the chef asked, ‘What is this? Why is it here?’ I said it was what he asked for. He said, ‘Yes, but it took little time.’ I asked if he wanted it to take more time. He said no, that it was a good thing. I told myself, OK, maybe I can succeed.”
Then came COVID-19, and she moved to work at Miznon, a Shani restaurant operating as a delivery kitchen at the time. There she met Miller, now her fiancé. “He had been the chef at Abraxas in Israel, came to New York with his then-wife to be chef at HaSalon, and did a few shifts with us. When COVID ended, he suggested I be his sous-chef at HaSalon. I told him I didn’t feel ready. He said, ‘I’ll teach you.’”
About a year later, Miller left and Shapira was promoted to chef of HaSalon. Only two years had passed since she was asked if she knew how to hold a knife. “I was 25 and people had a hard time with my age,” she said. “I learned a lot there about management and about people.” She worked there for three years. “A dream job,” she said. In the meantime, Miller divorced, returned to New York, they reconnected and have been together since.
A year ago, she received the offer to move to Shmoné and did not hesitate. “A 50-seat restaurant with a Michelin star. You don’t say no to that.”
What did Eyal Shani say about the win?
“Eyal is a mix of friend, boss and father. A bit of everything. We spoke the day after the win and he was very happy for me, because he knew I went through a difficult period. It gave all of us some calm.”
'Some Google reviews were removed'
The Michelin Guide did not spare praise, describing Shapira’s kitchen as “a dazzling neo-Levantine” and explaining: “Many kitchens pride themselves on using fresh ingredients, but Shmoné takes this philosophy to another level. The dishes don’t repeat themselves, but they are certainly unforgettable.”
How do you define your cooking?
“I’m very influenced by Eyal, by his food. It’s the food I love to eat: clean, simple, respectful of the ingredient. Take something delicious and make it more delicious. Take a tomato and bring out its qualities.”
Has the star changed your life?
“It gives me validation that I’m OK, that I’m good enough. If I said I wanted to work in Paris, I’d have a job, even without knowing a word of French. I was a chef nobody knew. I didn’t interest anyone. Suddenly a lot of chefs started following me on Instagram, sending messages. People from the restaurant world come to eat at Shmoné. It’s the first time I’ve been seen.”
Is it hard to run an Israeli restaurant in New York these days? Does Michelin help?
“We don’t feel anything here, and Michelin didn’t change things one way or the other. There were some Google reviews that were removed and a bit of backlash on Instagram because I’m Israeli.”
Asked about the future and children, she is candid about the complexity for women chefs. “I’m sure it will be hard. I can’t imagine maternity leave or being pregnant at work, when I can’t taste dishes or when smells make me nauseous.”
At least you won’t have to worry about the catering at your wedding.
“Exactly. We decided today the wedding will be at HaSalon. I hope Eyal will come. That would be full circle.”