KVINDERNE I FRUTTI DI BOSCOS UNIVERS: EGLANTINE CHARRIER

THE WOMEN IN FRUTTI DI BOSCO’S WORLD: EGLANTINE CHARRIER

October 31, 2026

In Frutti Di Bosco’s world, we meet women who make an impression through their personality, strength and style. Women with character and the courage to follow their own paths. This portrait series celebrates them.

Eglantine and I met at the Danish Design School in 1998 and took to each other straight away. We have been friends ever since, sharing in each other’s lives for almost 30 years. She has a warmth that makes those around her feel at home, and a special eye for beauty in everyday life. I am very fond of her and delighted to share a little of her world here.

As a designer and the woman behind La Table d’Eglantine, she has created a world of French vintage finds, food and table settings. Her Danish and French roots shape both her shop on Kompagnistræde and her cookbook, La Table d’Eglantine – Opskrifter fra mit franske liv. We meet her for a conversation about personal style, old objects and the art of gathering people around a table.

Read the full interview below:

Your mother is Danish and your father is French. How do the two cultures come together in the world you have created?

Both cultures have always played a big part in my life, personally and professionally. I feel very much at home in both countries, but in different ways. I grew up in Denmark, and much of my everyday life is here, while France has always been a natural part of my identity through my family, the language and the food.

In France, meals and gathering around the table have a special place, and that is probably one of the things I have taken with me most of all. At the same time, I am shaped by the Danish design tradition and a Nordic approach to aesthetics and interiors.

At La Table d’Eglantine, the two worlds come together quite naturally. French objects, food traditions and stories become part of everyday Danish life and design, and I enjoy creating new connections between them.

What do Copenhagen, Paris and your house in Vernet-les-Bains each give you?

I love living in Copenhagen. I grew up in the city and know every street in the centre and its surrounding neighbourhoods. There is so much culture and so much to experience, yet the city is calm, safe and easy to navigate, with everything within cycling distance.

I lived in Paris when I was very young, and today I have an apartment there. The city is a little like a first love that never quite loses its sparkle. I love its outgoing way of life. People greet one another, chat to the waiter at the café and strike up conversations with strangers. The magnificent architecture and the museums’ art treasures compete for your attention, there are countless restaurants waiting to be discovered, and the experiences are endless.

The house in the Pyrenees brings me closer to nature and slows me down. Hiking in the mountains is the best way for me to clear my head and reconnect with my body. There is a market in the square several times a week, and I enjoy buying from people who have grown their own tomatoes, made their own goat’s cheese or cooked jam from the fruit in their orchards.

Copenhagen is my base, but a large part of both my private life and my work is in France, where I travel in search of beautiful finds for the shop. The three places each give me something different, and I would hate to be without any of them.

How did La Table d’Eglantine begin, and how do you draw on your background in spatial and furniture design?

I used to work as a stylist on cookbooks and food magazines, and through that work I began collecting objects for photo shoots that I found on my travels around France. I wanted to take these beautiful finds further, and during the coronavirus lockdown I began building a world on Instagram and developing an online shop. It got off to a good start. Customers could drink their café au lait from an old French bowl and dream themselves a little closer to Paris.

After six months, I felt ready to take the next step and found a lovely space on Kompagnistræde. Here I could create a personal world that supported my idea of giving these beautiful finds a new life.

It has been important for me to dare to trust my own eye and create a visual world that does not necessarily follow current trends, but is my own.

My background as a designer informs many parts of my work, whether I am setting tables, developing recipes or taking photographs. I work with compositions and tableaux in which colours, textures, shapes and patterns speak to one another and create new connections.

In many ways, I approach cooking in the same way. It is about bringing flavours, textures and colours together. For me, food should be experienced with all the senses, and its visual appeal is a natural part of that experience.

Your cookbook is a personal account of your French life. What role do memories and your grandmother, Mamie Jeanne, play?

Early in the process of making the book, I realised how closely I connect memories with food and meals. The book centres on three places in France and the dishes, people and experiences I associate with them. Working on it also became a journey back through my own history.

There is an entire section of my cookbook that is, in many ways, a tribute to my grandmother. Cooking for the family was one of her clearest ways of expressing love. She remembered each grandchild’s favourite dessert and always made sure to serve that very dessert on the first evening of our visit.

My favourite was a Vacherin. An ivory ice cream dessert with crisp meringue and a deep pink raspberry coulis running down the white ice cream cake.

Meals at my grandmother’s had their own choreography, both in the way they were structured and in the roles around the table. A meal took time, and the food was to be enjoyed one part at a time. There was no piling salad, meat and vegetables onto one big plate. There had to be time and space to savour each individual part of the meal.

It has become a very personal story told through food, and I am still moved when people come up to me and tell me about dishes they have made from the book. The thought that one of my grandmother’s recipes is now being cooked and enjoyed around another family’s table feels very special.

You grew up in a communal household. What does the sense of community around the table mean to you, and what do you hope to pass on to your sons?

I grew up in a communal household, where there were always lots of people around me and a sense of community was a natural part of everyday life. It has certainly shaped my idea of what a home is. A home is not just a private place, but somewhere people come together and where there is room for others.

I have carried some of that openness with me. I enjoy the informal way of being together when you share a meal. It does not have to be perfect or particularly formal. What matters most is that there is room around the table and that people want to stay.

I find great joy and meaning in the sense of community that can grow around a meal. Something special happens when someone has taken the time and made an effort. Set a beautiful table, cooked lovely food and created a place where people can meet, eat, talk, share and laugh.

My three grown-up sons are all really good cooks, and I am very happy to have passed that on to them. They appreciate a home-cooked meal, even if a student budget does not always stretch as far as their ambitions.

I admire the way they throw themselves into cooking for large groups of friends without getting overwhelmed, and how curiously they explore different food cultures.

I hope they carry the pleasure of cooking and bringing people together with them throughout their lives. That they see a meal as more than something to get out of the way, and keep inviting friends and family around their tables. It does not have to be complicated or expensive, but making an effort matters.

What do you look for when choosing vintage finds for the shop?

There is something special about objects that carry a history with them. Crystal glasses more than 100 years old that have held wonderful wines, rustic bowls in which bread has been left to rise, jars that have held preserved harvests, and platters that have graced festive dinners.

Every find I choose is carefully selected for its distinctive expression, its history and the atmosphere it can bring. It is not necessarily the rarest or most expensive objects that catch my eye, but those with something special. An unusual glaze, a beautiful combination of colours, a fine pattern or a shape that stands out.

I love the idea of old objects being given a new life, perhaps alongside something entirely modern. It is precisely in these new combinations that I find them particularly interesting.

How would you describe your personal style, and where does Frutti Di Bosco fit into it?

My style is simple and timeless, with a lot of black and white, but I also love adding strong colours such as red and blue.

I am quite inspired by southern European style and like to break up simple, classic clothes with more striking jewellery. I like pieces that are a little showy and exuberant, creating a contrast with the clothes. I rarely wear patterns, so jewellery is a way for me to give an outfit more life and personality.

I really like the humour and playful expression in Frutti Di Bosco’s jewellery, and I am especially fond of the maritime references in the first collection. Just as an old French café au lait bowl can make you feel a little as though you are in Paris, a couple of their pieces can make you feel like an Italian donna, even on an ordinary Tuesday in Copenhagen.

What would you like to explore next with La Table d’Eglantine?

I see La Table d’Eglantine as the trunk of a tree from which new branches can keep growing. It is a world I want to continue developing, with room for new ideas, projects and collaborations. What they will always share is the pleasure of gathering around a table, the food placed on it and everything surrounding the meal.

I enjoy the freedom of letting new ideas emerge and take shape along the way, without everything having to be planned in advance. Time will tell which new branches grow.