Wolfgang Puck has catered the Oscars Governors Ball every year since 1994, and his Spago in Beverly Hills is still one of Hollywood's favourite tables. But in a recent interview with Elite Traveler, the Austrian-born chef was less interested in star power than in the small moments that shaped how he travels and eats — and there's a surprising amount of practical wisdom in there for the rest of us.

The trip that changed everything came when he was about 17. Still unsure whether he'd end up a chef or a truck driver (his friend drove trucks and earned far more), he took the train from Austria to Provence to work at L'Oustau de Baumanière. Watching owner Monsieur Tullier greet guests like Elizabeth Taylor and Catherine Deneuve, then walk them into the kitchen, rewired his ambitions on the spot. The food left a mark too: milk-fed lamb and gratin dauphinois, delicious for six months, then slightly repetitive. His first hotel obsession? The Hôtel de Paris in Monaco, with its doormen, Roll-Royces and dressed-up guests — a world he'd never glimpsed growing up.

His best flight story is pure '90s: on a first-class ANA run from Tokyo to LA, he and his friend Nobu Matsuhisa asked to sit on the floor on a blanket, Japanese-style, eating Nobu's sushi and drinking the airline's Dom Pérignon while suited businessmen looked on. Neither of them was famous yet. He still remembers the hole in his sock.

When it comes to hotels and restaurants today, Puck's checklist is refreshingly simple. In a hotel, he wants a manager out on the floor greeting people by name — not glued to a computer in an office. On a menu, he wants it short and local. A big menu at a small restaurant makes him nervous, and he'll happily refuse a Dover sole in Austria on principle: if you're near water, order the fish.

His most recent holiday threaded together several of his own haunts — a tasting menu at Spago Istanbul, a few days at the Maçakızı Hotel in Bodrum (after a booking mix-up cost him a room at Maxx Royal, where he has a restaurant), then a rented villa near Saint-Tropez with family, a private chef and a terrace over the sea. The villa won out over hotel life, largely because nobody retreats to their room. And somewhere around turning 60, he stopped answering restaurant calls mid-vacation — a lesson in hiring people you trust.

His one cautionary tale comes from hotel check-out: he once handed a spilled-on Loro Piana jacket to the cleaner, forgot it, and it vanished forever. His advice — check rooms thoroughly before you leave — costs nothing to follow.

For travellers, it's a reminder that the markers of good hospitality haven't changed: a warm welcome, a tight menu, local ingredients and staff who care whether you're watching or not. credit: Elite Traveler