The Perfectionist

I finished reading The Perfectionist.  Life and Death in Haute Cuisine by Rudolpho Chelminski today and I just first have to say admit that I broke into tears near the end.  The book is a magnificent journey following the life and sadly the death of one of the most famous chefs known to man; starting with his early childhood in rural France (a place that even Bernard called Maldavia), his education in a Troigros restaurant,  his struggle to gain one, two, and three stars, and then ultimately his spiral downwards.  A spiral that I think any human being (who has a passionate dream) can associate with.  It is a poignant commentary on modern life and the seduction and excessiveness of stardom and sucess.  The book obviously is about the journey and then the downfall of Bernard Loiseau, the chef that killed himself years ago in the rural town of Salieau because he believed the critics and the Michelin Guide had turned against him and were going to remove his "stars."   One of the many highlights in the book is the chapter devoted to how Michelin came to be.

For those unfamiliar with the Michelin Guide, as I was two years ago, should understand that Michelin Guides coverage of European countries is so extensive and clear that during the Second World War both German and American armies pirated the guide and issues copies to frontline officers for navigating through urban areas.  The US version was stamped FOR OFFICIAL USE ONLY.  It is well known that certain competing guides and food writers use the Michelin as the best and most reliable restaurant data base.  A one star means a "very good restaurant in its class"; two stars, "excellent cooking, worth a detour"; and three stars, "exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey."

I dog-earred many pages so I don't know where to begin in trying to tempt you to read the book which I would highly recommend if you are interested in haute cuisine or chefs.  To test you, if the following paragraph gives you a near hardon, then I would run to your nearest Barnes and Noble:  The astounding manipulations of Ferran Adria's Catalan school of laboratory cooking, he served many of his dishes in liquid rather solid form; injected ingredients by hypodermic syringe at tableside into other ingredients; occasionally presented sauces in the form of ice cubes; used strangely shaped plates; had clients drink through organic straws or out of test tubes put dry ice chips in the bottom of a glass to create smoky-hokey billows of clouds; made deliberately provocative mixes of taste (mousse au chocolate with wild thyme; and in general carried on like a carnival Houdini.

One of the most interesting statements in the book is by a chef named Guy Savoy (who is opening up a restaurant in Las Vegas to my demise) who says, "Restaurants are the last refuge of civilization on the planet. "  The writer continues to argue that, "certainly restaurants are businesses engaged in seeking profit, but it is remarkable how often they can be something very much like a calling, how often the artisans engaged in that calling are stricken by the artist's imperative to transcend the dreadful, passionateless bottom-line mentality that more generally rules the modern world."

As one could tell in reading my blog, within the last year of my life, I have become obsessed with the restaurant and haute cuisine industry.   When I try to pinpoint where it began, I pretty much have to say it was my last trip to France which was mostly a mad dash around the countryside, Michelin in hand, hunting down cute cheap lunches and three star dinners.  Here is a link to the photo gallery of the trip.  It has almost been a year ago actually.  A year since I have eaten in Bernard Loiseau's Cote d'Or where at the time I didn't realize as much as I now know about Bernard, the industry, the concepts of it all.  The photo of me, to the left is a year old and in the town of Salieau.

I totally agree with Anthony Bourdain (you might recognize his name as well) comments on the book, "The Perfectionist is a knowledgable, wise, unsparing yet sympathetic portrait of a great chef at a crossroads in culinary history.  A sobering account of the real human costs of being the best."


The photos, other than the press photo of Bernard when he was awarded 3 stars, are all mine and of the Cote d'Or last year.  It is by far one of the most magical places I have ever been to.  A total hideaway from the world, exactly as Bernard hoped it to become.

Comments

[Kiwi]

The comment of Anthony Bourdain really rings true. I find it harder and harder to eat out with others, who 99.9% of the time see food in a utilitarian way or simply as a social connector.

There is something far deeper, far more exciting, overtly divine and subtly meaningful in food. Its funny, those places I have found and loved, I keep them to myself and eat alone there if I can, or with someone who loves it as much as I do, the experience is too special to ruin it with the normal indifference people show to food.

Nice post.