Sitting Down With Legends
Chef Patrick O’Connell, The Inn at Little Washington
INTERVIEW BY James Whitman
Long before the Michelin stars, before senators and dignitaries made pilgrimages to his dining room, Patrick O’Connell was cooking onion soup at a farmhouse near the base of Virginia’s Old Rag Mountain. Friends, neighbors, and lost hikers found a welcome meal made from local ingredients—apples in the cellar, jars of the season’s tomatoes, preserves in the pantry. Fifty years later, the same impulse—to feed, to welcome—still drives his work.
Chef Patrick settled in Washington, Virginia, as a sanctuary and built it into an international culinary destination. The quiet village at the foot of the Blue Ridge gave him freedom to work without distraction, be himself, and allow his creativity to bloom. At a time when the DC dining scene was stiff and narrow, O’Connell began cultivating relationships with nearby farmers and neighbors. Long before “farm to table” had a name, he was paying a premium for the smallest, most tender green beans, gathering watercress and sorrel from local fields, and building a network of producers that included ham curers, creameries, and foragers. Those alliances tied his food to the land and gave diners a taste of the region. It’s this same pursuit of a sense of place that’s kept this chef rooted in Washington, Virginia.
O’Connell’s path was not through a formal culinary school, but instead cooking his way—twice, then a third time—through the guide for many self-taught cooks, Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking. He began as a caterer, working for a group of wealthy local families in the county who each sought ever grander feasts.
The pressure to outdo himself honed his skills, taught him to choreograph complex meals, and revealed his knack for spotting and organizing talent. It wasn’t long before a local banker backed him to open The Inn at Little Washington in a crumbling building in town.
From the start, O’Connell treated hospitality as theater. “Be the guest,” he tells his staff—anticipate every need before it’s spoken. At The Inn, this philosophy takes both serious and whimsical forms: the dining rooms dressed in chintz and lace and playful touches like a looping Saturday Night Live skit lampooning Julia Child in the restroom. The kitchen, by contrast, is a cathedral of focus—bright, disciplined, and exacting.
Now, as The Inn mourns the recent departure of one of its Michelin stars, the legacy of vision and dedication remains unquestioned. Celebrating his 80th birthday, O’Connell remains fully engaged—leading service nightly, expanding The Inn with new rooms, a pool, even a pawpaw orchard inspired by George Washington’s favorite fruit. Three dozen cooks and a massive staff continue to execute complex dishes like a lamb carpaccio with a savory Caesar salad ice cream. His goal is not just technical perfection but awakening curiosity: to challenge his staff, push them further than they imagined, and nurture the hidden talents that allow them to flourish long after they leave his kitchen. So while you have to travel out to Washington, Virginia, to experience O’Connell’s own dining room, his culinary family tree stretches far including chefs like Spike Mendelson and Tarver King.
Maintaining Michelin stars is a relentless pursuit—something Chef Patrick O’Connell has always understood. Three stars are never guaranteed, no matter how storied the kitchen. Yet The Inn endures as more than a restaurant. It is a stage where his vision continues to unfold, and where guests are welcomed into a sanctuary shaped by passion, place, and purpose.
The Inn at Little Washington
Washington, Virginia
