Leslie Brenner

Whoops! I forgot the second part of the question. I haven't announced my next book. I'm in the process of figuring out what my next food book will be, and in the meantime, I'm working on my second novel, which will be published by Henry Holt--I imagine in late 2003 or 2004.

Thanks for the thought-provoking question, swissmiss. Unlike some writers (and actors, directors, etc.), I do actually read all the reviews of my books. And I look forward to reading them, even if I'm afraid of them. I'm going to answer your question in a roundabout way. I attended a creative writing program in fiction writing back in 1986-88, and the aspect of it that I found, and continue to find, most valuable was learning how to discern criticism that is valuable to me and criticism that I should discard. That might sound harsh or silly, but it often boils down to a matter of taste. Any writing that is truly interesting will not appeal to everyone, so if one can find a reader or reader who is simpatico with one's work, but will still be critical, that's a critic to listen to. If a reader just doesn't really like what you do, there's no use in paying attention to that. That said, I pay very close attention to review if the reviewer takes into account my intentions as a writer. And sadly, there are many reviewers who do not do this. A case in point would be the review of The Fourth Star in the New York Times Book Review (I wonder whether you happened to read it?). Thomas McNamee, the critic, found fault with the book because I didn't dig up a lot of dirt. Since digging up dirt was not at all my aim, I didn't take it to heart (though of course I was somewhat upset that the Times couldn't manage to find someone to review the book fairly). He also found fault with my prose style, without giving examples of what he found objectionable. To me this is unprofessional. 'Nuff said about that. But when I do find a review that takes my intentions into account it might affect my work the next time around--if I agreed with the criticism. But generally speaking, reviews do not affect how I write.

That's a fun question, Steve Klc. Yes, I do still have the first piece of food writing I published--it was called "Long Live the Sturgeon King," and it was a review of Barney Greengrass, the Sturgeon King, in New York City for New York Woman magazine; it was published in December, 1989. The article was only about 250 words, and though I couldn't find the contract, I think they were paying me a dollar a word, so it must have been $250. You also ask if it means something to me. It's funny--I thought it did, but it turned out that my memory tricked me--I had thought my first food piece was a review of Tribeca Grill for the same magazine, but when I went back and checked, in order to answer your question correctly, it turned out that came later. Go figure!

Cabrales, the European restaurants that seemed to inspire the most awe in the kitchen at Daniel were Alain Ducasse, particularly in Paris (Alex Lee was especially impressed, and Daniel told me the best meal he ever had was at Alain Ducasse), El Bulli (Neal Gallagher was particularly gaga over it), and Martín Berasateguí in San Sebastian, Spain. That's generally speaking--I'm sure particular cooks had other favorites, but those were the restaurants I heard the most talk about.

Cabrales, I think my favorite egg dish would have to be an omelette aux cèpes I had in Collonges-la-rouge, Corrèze, in 1992. I don't believe I ever saw duck eggs at Daniel, but of course that doesn't mean they weren't there--I just might have missed them. And I did not take note of the egg supplier. I have noticed beautiful duck (and other specialty) eggs at the Farmers' Market in Santa Monica, California.

Cabrales, thanks for the question. I'm afraid I'm going to have to plead ignorance on this one--I didn't really follow the Open Table thing through to the end, so I don't really know what the results were. I don't think that booking on Open Table would be a means to obtain PX status--that comes more from either being a regular, a celebrity, a chef, journalist, etc.

Thanks for your question, jaybee. (And for taking the trouble to move it...) Daniel Boulud read the book for the first time when it was in bound galleys--a point at which it's almost impossible to make substantive changes in a book. He showed amazing patience during the production process, and never pressed me to show him anything before I was ready to. I should also say that he exhibited tremendous courage in giving me the kind of complete access he did without the right to review the material before publication. I wonder whether any of his peers--other four star chefs--would have been as stout-hearted. When he did finally read it, Daniel's reaction was fairly explosive. There were a number of subjects I touched on in the book that he would have preferred I had left alone--the salary ranges of his employees, for instance, and a very rare instance of poor hygiene that he did not witness. We spoke and corresponded by email many times during the couple of months leading up to publication, and although I did not remove any of the "offending" material, Daniel did calm down. I, too, came to understand the vehemence of his reaction--his is the kind of success (creative and commercial) that only comes with that kind of perfectionism. In the end, he wrote me in an email, "I think the book is fantastic if you are not me reading it." I have not had any contact with Bruno Jamais, so I have no idea how he felt about the book--which I assume he read. One or two other staff people bristled a little about small details I revealed, but there hasn't been anything that they couldn't live with. However, I have only had direct feedback from maybe seven or eight people who were in the book. As for whether I will be a "PX" next time I reserve a table at Daniel, I can only hope I will be! Since I'll be in New York a couple times in the next two months, and I plan to dine there, I'll find out pretty soon. My experience at Daniel made me quite fond of Daniel Boulud (as well as many of his staff), so I think it will probably feel like returning home in many ways. From my end, anyway! I'll let you know. Can you eat there with me? I don't know. Can you get us an 8:00 reservation?

Cabrales, that is a very good question. As you mention, there are a number of video cameras in the dining room at Daniel. There's a bank of monitors just next to the "pass," the area where the orders come into the kitchen. I have never seen the chefs trying to discern the apparent enthusiasm of diners. That doesn't mean it necessarily never happened, but in actuality, the black and white images on the monitors are a bit blurry. Usually the chefs used them to focus on plates, to check the progress of diners through their courses. (I.e. Are they halfway through their appetizers?) That would help them know when to "fire" the next course. Occasionally they used them if they thought they knew someone at a table, and they were trying to figure out if the diner was indeed the person the chef thought it might be, whether a friend, an ex-employee, a chef at another restaurant, etc. I do know that when William Grimes, the New York Times restaurant critic, was known to be in the restaurant the last time he came, Daniel Boulud was trying very hard to focus on him at his table. But somehow, he couldn't get a good angle. Oddly, the video system is at the same time very sophisticated and much less sophisticated than you might think. It was one of the earliest systems of its kind, and I imagine the images on the newer ones might be somewhat better.

Yes, that was me. I hope to master the quoting thing sometime soon... And thank you for mentioning me in the same breath with M.F.K. Fisher, John Whiting, and Steve Shaw!

Whoops--make that Zola, not Stendahl. It was late...

I'm trying to quote here, answering each part of the quote in turn, but can't figure out how...my apologies!

Mynamejoe, I've seen many a professional cook who would be a better chef if he or she had some of the skills that only come with a lifetime of cooking, i.e. the kind of skills great home cooks have. I didn't mean to imply that home cooks would make better chefs.

Some of the best cooks I know learned neither in cooking school nor on the job in a restaurant, but rather at home in their childhood kitchen, at their mother's side. Certainly there are amazing benefits to learning in school or in a professional kitchen (technically difficult preparations, cooking in quantity, cooking under pressure, etc.), but I've seen cooks in great restaurant make mistakes that a good home cook would never make.

Santa Rosa plums--they're at the absolute peak right now in California. I could eat a hundred of 'em.

Stendahl! Balzac! Brillat-Savarin!

Bux, Steve klc and others, thank you for your thoughtful responses. Bux, I'm not sure why you read my defense of my own book as an attack. I certainly did not mean to attack you. I did use the word "silly," which you say you agree with. "Disclaimer" or no, I was insulted by the implication that I would put things in a book because they would play well to the crowd. I think any self-respecting writer (not to mention award winning journalist and author, and one who bends over backwards to present a balanced view) would take offense at such an implication. And Steve klc, I think you're right: I should just let the book speak for itself. (Please forgive me if it was another poster who said it--I'm not adept at using this site!) I look forward to reading reactions here after people have had a chance to read it (on-sale date is June 10). Bux, as for why I mentioned Rica and Cyrille by name, please forgive me, but I found your comment "the current executive sous chef with greatest seniority has been with Boulud in several categories from line cook, to executive chef of his catering divison to his present position since he was hired away from Georges Blanc in Vonnas when the first Daniel opened" to be disingenuous--I think reasonable disclosure would dictate that you mention he's your son-in-law. Perhaps I take these things too seriously, though. I hope they don't feel their privacy has been violated by mentioning them in a post--after all, they're characters in the book, which hopefully will be read by thousands of people.

Hello, all—I’m Leslie Brenner, the author of the book in question, The Fourth Star. Thank you all for your interest. I’d like to try to address some of the points made in this discussion. First, I think it’s rather silly to call a book "sensationalism" based on one review. Bruce Cole focussed on the aspects of the book that he found interesting, but there’s a lot more to the book than that. If you read the Kirkus Review (which I can’t quote much of because of copyright issues, but you can find it attached to The Fourth Star on the Barnes + Noble website, bn.com), you’ll probably have the impression it’s a different book being reviewed. By the way, not only is Mr. Cole not my "P.R. agent," but I don’t even know him, other than having responded to a posting he did recently on another website asking for links to James Beard-nominated articles. As he correctly reports, I offered to have my publicist send him a copy of my book, and he reviewed it. To me the most important thing in writing "The Fourth Star" was to write a balanced book, and I’m quite proud of how balanced I feel the book is. For the record, I consider Daniel to be probably the very best restaurant in the United States, and one of the best in the world, and I think that attitude comes through loud and clear in the book. I have nothing short of reverence for what Mr. Boulud does, and the magnificence of his cuisine and the dining experience Daniel provides. And now, point by point... First, Bux writes that it seems the book is "meant to appeal most to those who don’t eat at Daniel." Au contraire. I wrote the book to appeal to anyone who is interested in food as art and dining as art, people who cook, and people who love to dine in great restaurants. I think Daniel’s regulars will be most interested in seeing not only the relationships between some of the cooks who are preparing the food, but also how exactly that food is prepared, as well as the finances involved. Kirkus discusses this aspect, concluding "The experience, suggests...Brenner...is worth every bit of the cost." Cf Bux’s complaint about my use of "In the shit": nowhere do I imply that this phrase is only used at Daniel. He goes on to write, "Moreover, although I’ve seen only a few other kitchens in the middle of service, most seemed less calm than the one at Daniel." In my capacities as a food journalist over the past twelve years, I’ve seen more than my share of restaurants kitchens throughout the world during service, and Daniel’s is by no means "calm" in comparison. However, nowhere do I call the kitchen "out of control," and I don’t feel that Daniel’s kitchen ever was out of control. Clearly that’s the reviewer’s phrase, so I find it pretty silly to use the phrase in support of Bux's rather insulting notion that I’m writing something that "plays well to the crowd." My book is reportage; in fact I believe it reads more like a cinéma vérité documentary than anything else. I spent about a year and a half behind the scenes at the restaurant, recording faithfully what I saw and heard. It’s really up to the reader to come to certain conclusions, and I feel that’s one of the great strengths of the book. Bux writes, cf squabbles between the chefs, "I wonder who ‘they’ are and who the ‘French contingent’ was..." If you wonder this, Mr. Buxbaum, I suggest you read the book and find out. And by the way, I do speak and understand English, French (as your daughter Rica, who worked for Boulud’s company for several years, and your son-in-law, still a sous-chef at Daniel as far as I know, can probably attest), and Spanish, and I never heard the French complaining about the Americans or the Spanish-speakers complaining about either the French or Americans. Certainly I heard them complaining about particular people, but I never heard them reduce it to a matter of nationality. Of course that doesn’t mean it never happened, but in my thousands of hours there, I never heard it. Cf "Even Mr. Boulud whose singular pursuit of perfect at the expense of his family life is called into question": A good journalist calls everything into question. Cf Bux’s disquisition on great restaurants as training grounds for future chefs: I devote a good many pages in my book to this question; obviously it cannot be reduced to the quote he has pulled from the review. As for "There’s been so much turnover in the kitchen lately that it’s hard for Boulud to keep track of who’s where..." that refers to one point during the course of the year. I also devote a great many pages discussing Mr. Boulud’s loyalty to present and even past employees. As for Steve Plotnicki’s remarks, thank you for pointing out that it’s difficult to judge the book based on that one review. In fact, while I appreciated Bruce Cole’s descriptions of the certain aspects of the book, it does, as I say, leave out my extreme reverence for the artistry of the food. This book, as I say, is not gossip; it’s reportage. If some of what happened was colorful or dishy, that’s the way it was. But Steve, you’d rather read about how Daniel was inspired to create the three-tiered canapé tray? Well, you’re in luck, because that’s largely what the book is about. Amid all the crazy stuff that happens during service (as well as before and after), everyone’s very much focussed on the food. One of the main reasons I wanted to write this book was so I could spend a year-plus learning how such amazing food is created, and I believe that comes across on page after page. Later, Steve Plotnicki comments "where I find this type of writing/journalism breaks down is that they don’t do a thorough enough job in getting the details." Please don’t make such a judgement on "The Fourth Star" until you've read the book. I’m sure you’ll be very pleasantly surprised. Finally, Bux writes "context is everything to the understanding of a situation." Right. Kirkus Reviews writes, "Brenner is also superb at context; her disquisition on the general decline in American fine arts and the concomitant rise in the 'living arts' is worth the price of admission."