Ptipois

Restaurant guide rule n°1: if it's absurd, there's probably someone to punish somewhere (a phenomenon a.k.a. the Veyrat-Loiseau syndrom).

Amen. I am expecting a lot of clever, down-to-earth, sane ideas to come out of the next few years. A positive knock on the head generating a new sense of home economy. Maybe we'll see the return of the real cheap bistrot (not its caricature of the 90's and 00's), which had disappeared for a couple of decades. And the true return of bistrot food.

I was taught how to make it in Guangzhou and it is quite easy, really. The choice of ingredients, though, is important. Milk (whole milk of course) has to be fatty and rich in caseine. In China they use Guangdong buffalo milk. Here in France I use Norman milk or milk from Jersey cows. I suppose I'll also use this extra-fatty milk to make this other South Chinese milk pudding, "double-skin milk", which is a lot more difficult to make than ginger milk (but incredibly yummy). Second ingredient that requires special care: the ginger. It shouldn't be young ginger, but old, mature ginger, with a high starch level. It is the ginger starch that coagulates the milk. The secret lies in the pouring of the milk from one saucepan to the other. Explanations below. Serves 4. Peel a large quantity (about 100-150 g) of mature ginger using a teaspoon (the only utensil that will remove the skin without scraping off the underskin, which contains a lot of starch and flavor). Grate it with a Microplane grater into a bowl, taking care not to lose any juice. Gather all the grated ginger into a small strainer and carefully squeeze out all the juice into the bowl. Pour the juice into the bottom of 4 china bowls, stirring it so it does not settle at the bottom of the first bowl. Set aside. Measure 4 china bowlfuls of fatty milk. Have ready two saucepans. Pour milk into one and heat slowly. Take off the heat at the first sign of smoke ("before it begins smoking" is the instructions I got at the time). Add 3 tablespoonfuls of sugar, mix quickly, then, holding the saucepan high, pour the milk into the other saucepan. Then into the first saucepan. Pour the milk ten times from one saucepan to the other, then pour it into the bowls containing the ginger juice and do not disturb the milk until it has set. It should set within three to five minutes. Please note that it does depend on the temperature and quality of the air: altitude is an issue, I have noticed that in hilly landscapes the setting takes longer. It may sometimes take as long as ten minutes, but it eventually always does set. Wait for the custard to be rather firmly set before eating. It will remain sort of shaky though. Ginger milk, once set, may be refrigerated and eaten chilled. I think it is even tastier that way. (Edit: I recommend against lowfat milk and vinegar. The milk has to be rich, and the preparation needs only milk, ginger and sugar. Nothing else.)

Hm, sure it does, in a tautological way, if you allow me. It makes sense that the financial stress caused by the three-stars status is definitely of Michelin origin, since the situation itself is created by the three stars, hence by the Michelin. This is thinking in a circle. Now chefs who have three stars also benefit greatly from them (even if the financial constraints of a three-star restaurant are extremely demanding, often perilous), and many of them crave that distinction and play the game according to the (Michelin-set, okay) rules. Some are too fragile for that game but then they should not play it in the first place and this calls for a quality called wisdom. Others couldn't care less and intentionally avoid playing that game. You don't have to do it if you don't want to. In that light, you can't eat your cake and keep it too, i.e. benefit from the Michelin stars as long as you're winning in that game, and then cry out loud what a calamity they are when the game no longer benefits you and you discover the darker side of it. Nobody ever accepted three stars under threat, at gunpoint. The idea is that it's generally a win-win deal, which sometimes goes wrong. There's a price to pay, which may be a cynical reality but it was written all over it from the start. When the Pourcels lost their third star, they told the press that they didn't care, they weren't making their benefits on the three stars anyway. Thus alluding to the many restaurants they had opened all over the world. But what made that situation possible in the first place, if not the fact that they had the three stars to lean on? I do know about that pressure but if you read me carefully you know what I think of it. I think Michelin is only as powerful as chefs make it. I do talk to a lot of chefs as a matter of fact, and I get as many opinions as there are chefs. The thoughts I'm posting here do reflect my experience and I cannot say the picture is really clear-cut. In my opinion it all boils down to each chef's priorities. Is he or she potentially a victim of Michelin pressure, is his or her back strong enough to resist that pressure or kick it away altogether, what is precisely the chef's attitude towards the ups and downs, advantages and inconveniences of the Michelin system? They do not all speak with one voice. Besides, reminding that Loiseau did not die directly from Michelin pressure but from a collection of other factors is not equivalent to denying the existence of Michelin pressure.

Just a remark. Though I am usually the first to deplore the negative (and, IMO, counterproductive) aspects of Michelin and their influence, I still believe it has its value as a guide and I'd be careful not to pile up too much sins on their backs. They have flaws, they are not to be denied but Michelin is not responsible for everything that goes wrong in the restaurant scene. Care should be taken when lending them any responsibility for desperate gestures like Loiseau's, which was the result of a complex set of circumstances and in that case I believe Michelin had no direct influence. There is enough to criticize in Michelin to avoid jumping to conclusions so hastily. For one thing, when it comes to media power and the way it influences chefs' fate, Michelin is very far from being the only example that can be given. Its rather formidable presence may well be a screen hiding more inconspicuous, seemingly harmless but distinctly more influential and nocive figures. Again, this is a complex issue. Re-edit: Roosterchef I agree with you. But then again, although frankly I think choosing to visit only three-stars is downright silly and unprofessional - especially for people wanting to appear as 'foodies' -, Michelin is not directly to blame for that. I'd rather blame la bêtise humaine. Just like people rushing to purchase and read novels that just got a literary prize and will not dare to touch other books. I know some. (Edited for correct writing, dammit girl!)

Right — in the same frame of mind, look out for the IIIe arrondissement and the Auvergne region in the Fooding Guide.

Well let's agree to disagree, especially since I don't think we're referring to the same arguments. When I write about the 'politics' of Michelin as not being particularly related to food, I do not mean the cutlery, the settings and the atmosphere. I am of the mind that the Michelin system, which perhaps had some meaning a few years or decades ago, is now deeply perverted and gradually showing its obsolescence, while also reaching its cultural and social limits. However caricatural the 'Ostend Queen' episode was, it summed up the situation quite well. (reminder: Michelin printed the review before the restaurant opened; the publisher hastily sent for all the copies to be removed from bookstores, but collectors had already grabbed some of them). There was no way I could take the Michelin seriously after that. I am always skeptical about classifications when it comes to food, and the macaron system is not one I acknowledge as significant in my appreciation of restaurants. I feel just as skeptical about the 0-20/high-school system of the Gault-Millau type. I consider the restaurant experience as a whole far too complex and nuanced to be content with "One star = good meal; Two stars = great meal; Three stars = outstanding meal". It cannot be that simple. My enjoyment of food and restaurants is clearly outside of that evaluation system. That is why I find it interesting when some chefs give up their stars or did not race for them while they had their chances — generally they're the ones who deserve them the most. I see a logic there.

You're right about 'shooting the messenger', but I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing. To the contrary I think Michelin has been putting too much emphasis not on 'a traditional way of dining' but on systematic innovation and 'creativity' to the detriment of food, and on redoing the whole décor of a restaurant at a generous expense, again to the detriment of food; and finally their political agenda on "bestarring" regions more than restaurants should not be overlooked, as was quite clear with the Pourcels and the choice of Passédat's Petit Nice once the Pourcels had lost the third macaron. And other political refinements which I will not mention here (remember "Ostend Queen"?). To be fairer with them, though, I do not think they are directly responsible for all spectacular chef wreckages. Michelin was not instrumental in Loiseau's 'giving up' but their name was used to spread a false rumor. They had nothing to do with it. But their importance was high enough to create such a situation.

For the very reasons you're mentioning in the rest of your post, Julot, I still do think it is a Michelin problem, though perhaps not directly. Your — quite pertinent — mention of Ducasse brings water to my mill, IMO. Would you ever expect Ducasse to say that "he's tired" (of being in his kitchen)? Of course not, because he'd have to be in a kitchen in the first place. Loiseau's "giving up", since you're hinting to it, was definitely a Michelin problem, though again an indirect one. It's all about pressure and power. What exerts the pressure? The stars do. And who gives the stars? As for Simon, though I have noticed that he wrote this article in a more subdued and self-effacing style than usual (praise him for that), I agree with you entirely. I smiled at "la cuisine bretonne" being described as "songeuse et ailleurs" ('dreamy and absent-minded'), which has absolutely no meaning at all regarding cooking and particularly Breton cooking. (Have you ever had a kig ha farz, François?)

Or rather the fact that they are safe from Michelin politics and, yes, pressure, because of the Michelin's relative cluelessness about other countries. Relax, he's still going to cook. Without stars, but what is it about? Stars or food?

I'm sure you can still have very good meals at Le Coquillage since he will be concentrating more on it from now on. Stars are just things, a chef remains a chef. Good move.

During my last trip to South China, which occurred in October, I spent some time in the Anxi mountains in Fujian. There I repeatedly was served a delicious vegetable whose name, roughly translated in English, was 'plastic bamboo'. It is slightly crunchy, very tender and tastes very sweet. Much like fresh bamboo shoot but more tender. White in color tinged with light green, and in its raw state it looks like a tapered stalk, about 2-inch wide at the base. Before being sliced and stir-fried, it has to be stripped of a few light green layers, a bit like lemongrass. My Cantonese friends who were spending time with me in Fujian told me that vegetable was also available in Guangzhou and other parts of South China. Botanically, it does not seem to be related to bamboo but it might if it is a graminea (as the taste would suggest). Does anyone know of this very remarkable vegetable and of a possible English name? I haven't seen it yet on any Chinese market outside of China. Oh here's the thing in its raw state, just before being cooked: Edit: OK, got it. Zizania latifolia Turcz., AKA water bamboo, jiao sun, jiao bai, kuw-sun, chiao-pei sun, co-ba. It is a graminaea, hence bamboo-related and a cousin of rice, particularly of American wild rice. The swelling of the stem is caused by a fungus.

If you have a bathtub, it is a good place to eat a millefeuille out of hand, or a ripe mango.

I have a different interpretation. You were the only one doing it right and he was dazzled to have found a kindred spirit. The well-educated way of eating pâté de campagne, anyway, is cutting a small chunk of it and placing it on a small piece of bread. Top with a slice of cornichon of a small dab of mustard. Eat. Repeat. If pâté de campagne is of the soft kind, same method applies, with a bit more smearing involved. Mille-feuille has a way of breaking into pieces (large, light pieces or smaller crumbs) as soon as you stick your fork or anything else in it. Usually the filling, deprived of its flimsy support, goes every possible way it can. There is only one way to proceed from that point on, IMO, and it is gathering a portion of both crumbs and filling on your spoon or fork and eat it as it is. It is normal for a millefeuille to become a mess once a ustensil held by a human hand goes near it. If the millefeuille breaks into more regular-sized pieces, that is not good news. The best millefeuilles are messy.

Oh, without doubt. Fernand Point the other way round, pre-nouvelle-cuisine inspiration changing direction this time, I agree. (Actually, seriously, no - cultural/cuisine exchanges have been going on for quite a while now.) But my (unFernand) point was that if our friend is doing advertising for this event and L'Auberge Basque on this board, he should at least do a good job of it and provide clearer information right here.

As a matter of fact your description is not quite enough for me to get a clear notion of how unique this chef is. Being booked three to six months in advance for a restaurant has only two tables, especially in a gourmet city like Tokyo, hardly makes it a 'phenomenon'. At that rate, it would take years to get a reservation at Daniel Rose's Spring, which seats 16. Maybe you could give us a more informative description than "his food is original, intelligent and offers a unique vision of culinary creativity - he is an inspiring, exciting and dynamic Japanese chef"? As far as advertising is concerned, only half of the job has been done.

I do not recommend croissant dough, it will be too soft. Torsades have to be stiff and crispy. Stick to puff.

I really like the guy, I don't like his food. I love his restaurant though, and the service. Actually if I could only sit in the restaurant only to enjoy a chat with the waiters, and not eat at all, I'd be very pleased. To me, one of his main problems is the strong Hervé This influence on him. Can't do any good to any chef. Also I believe he has trouble, out of generosity I'm sure, portioning his tasting menus correctly.

Going in Julot's direction, Gagnaire did confess bearing some responsibility in the disappearing, some years ago, of "good old restaurants" and sharing this responsibility with other contemporary chefs (those promoted by the GaultMillau guide of then). He said that at the latest Omnivore food festival in Deauville (Feb. 2008), regretting that he had partly caused some "excellent chefs who made terrines" to disappear. Rightly or wrongly, but he did express it. At least he was expressing some sincere sorrow on that topic, which is miles away from ducassian cynicism. More about that here, scroll down, 11th paragraph, in French. Same text in English here.

Both very valid points from Julot and Culinista. There definitely is a gap in the French modern eating lifestyle, a lack of decent snacks and reasonably-priced "sur le pouce" eating. It wasn't always so. The drastic decrease in quality of boulangeries, pâtisseries, the disappearance of charcuteries (generally replaced by "Asian" take-outs where everything seems to be produced in the same huge kitchen), and the general disappearance of whatever "street food" France used to have before the 1970s or so, have produced the present situation. Julot is right, the general quality of bakery items and sandwiches in France is often appalling. The poor quality of bread in particular plays no small part in that. Besides, our tradition of fixed-hour meals which leaves a definite no-man's land between breakfast (a relatively unimportant meal in the French diet), lunch and dinner has not helped the process. It is as though you were not even supposed to eat outside of socially accepted hours. One of my old Chinese friends, who has been living in France for more than 30 years but was raised in Singapore, was extremely surprised the first time he entered a Chinese restaurant in Paris at 4:00 PM and asked for a bowl of noodles. "We don't serve at this time of day", he was told. He could not believe it. Moreover, 30 years later he still hasn't gotten used to it. To him the normal human situation is to be able to find a snack at any time and that this snack be good. I must say I love the Asian all-day-round availability of food in the streets. However I wouldn't go that far as to say that McDonalds offers good food as well as quick, predictable food. Every time I have been confronted to their products and especially their smell, I preferred not to eat at all. I agree that French sandwiches are no better but I do not think they are worse — which is not saying much.

I think you may be perfectly right, Margaret. I had no idea there was a full Food and Wine article. Though at first the chef might enjoy this kind of publicity, it can severely disturb a small, fragile place like that, until the buzz goes down.

I'll bet they were. Jérôme's pairings are famous.

They are now managed by Jérôme Moreau, formerly sommelier at Le Bristol. He told me they would consider serving some dishes but do not have good cooking facilities, so imagine: lièvre à la royale! Perhaps the lièvre came from a third-party kitchen. I'll ask.

Grossly simplistic, as are most mainstream American or British press articles whenever they try to comment French eating habits, with a twisted sense of causality that, as we say here, "doesn't eat bread" (= has no important consequences) but is a type of misinformation. It is not clear at all that the current restaurant crisis in France (which only follows a general increase of precarity that has been going on for years in French society) has caused, or will cause, any extra rush to McDonalds' restaurants. These have been thriving in France for quite a few years and presenting them as a logical solution to the food crisis is, to say the least, a tad manipulative (not mentioning the fact that McDonalds, in their own way, are part of the food crisis).

Of course. But La Crèmerie was a different place with different management needs. I do not think the core of the matter is who manages the place (i.e. Pierre at Racines, formerly at La Crèmerie) but what the place actually is.