In the margins of his days, Adam diligently studied what the land and sea offered in their ungoverned states—notes, sketches, recipes gathered toward a manuscript. The wilderness gave him more than ingredients; it suggested a way of thinking, a haute cuisine sauvage that draws from what has been overlooked or abandoned, the forgotten harvest. His time in the kitchens of restless innovation provided its own strata of influence, and from that bedrock he works: a confluence where nature’s raw consolations meet a refinement that feels inevitable, not imposed.