“Decorating is like cooking. You can have the best book from the greatest chefs, but if you don’t know how to combine and mix the ingredients, it has no taste.”

I was first introduced to the immensely traveled, perfectly collected world of Pierre Emmanuel Martin and Stéphane Garotin of Maison Hand through Instagram. Partners in life and work, the French incarnate couple run a restaurant, design firm, and shop. It was a vignette photographed on a mantel in their home, however, that prompted me to brazenly ask them to open the doors of their circa 1851 apartment in Lyon’s historic silk quarter. When I arrived, I was like a hunting dog, sniffing the trail of a pair of Brancusi-esque white sculptural objects that had so captivated my eye on Instagram. Of course, the sculptures were not for sale, but I am grateful they led me to Pierre and Stéphane for this book.

Not only do the couple’s design penchants profoundly resonate with me, but they, too, share a deep love of food, cooking, and entertaining. I am always drawn to people who explore these two complementary passions, which have a symbiotic relationship in my heart. Their kitchen manifests these sister interests—at once a practical, generously appointed space and a tableau for decorative objects that reflect their love of travel. It was also the first architectural change they made to the apartment. “The kitchen was located in a small room in the back. As we love to have friends over to cook, we immediately knew we wanted to dedicate a nice space to it,” says Pierre. They relocated the kitchen to a street-facing room, but retained the wall separating it from the living room so as to preserve the original paneling and moldings. They installed a Boffi kitchen with open shelving to display their collection of crafts from around the world. “We always like to mix everything. It was a way to exhibit our collection and contrast the raw, cold materials and marble,” says Stéphane.

Throughout their home, they distinctively treat raw materials with refinement. “We are more attracted by raw materials than precious ones. If we could, we would live in Brancusi’s workshop,” says Pierre. Textural linen curtains with a fine hemstitch pool to the floor, while roman shades made of gauzy linen boast unexpected polish. There is a sense of delicacy, precision, and thoughtful repetition to the way in which they elevate the simple. It is not a surprise they are drawn to Noguchi lanterns, of which they have several. Humble material is carefully and artfully manipulated to create something so simple, but so complexly sophisticated and elegant. They seem to thrive on this razor’s-edge balance.

Craftsmanship and travel shape the contours of the home. Rather than grouping objects by country of origin, however, they devised vignettes driven by palette and form. Basalt-colored Japanese teapots mingle with a decorative black cross brought back from a trip to Mexico. Rattan baskets woven in Southeast Asia sit alongside indigenous Native American terracotta pots. Stéphane and Pierre are able to find the through line that unites them, building a language based on aesthetic commonality and opposition.

This home also reflects the history of their relationship. The couple, who met in Morocco, fell in love with a textural Berber rug. Unable to take it home, they returned years later to find the vendor had saved it for them. Now in their bedroom, it grounds their most intimate space, a reminder of the shared history. As for the plaster pair of sculptures that led me here, their origins remain unknown. Pierre and Stéphane have attempted to track down the signature on the work to no avail. “Everyone wants to know more,” says Stéphane, “but they’re a mystery.” And therein lies the beauty of the hunt, of finding the one piece that speaks a language meant for your eyes alone, calling you to it out of obscurity.