robert brown

We often compare chefs and musicians on these forums, with varying degrees of agreement as to whether the comparison is useful. One aspect that they unquestionably share is the notion of a repertoire. If you follow closely the career of a musician, you are learn what changes he or she makes in a repertoire, the pieces that are added and discarded. One musician I have followed from before his first recording as a leader until his performance in the late summer of 1980, two weeks before he died, is the jazz pianist Bill Evans. Certain songs such as "Waltz for Debby", "My Romance" and "Our Delight", which he performed on his first album, always remained in his repertoire; others such as "Spring is Here", "Alice in Wonderland" and "Beautiful Love" that he played around 1960 were dropped, only to reappear in the late 1970s. Most vexing of all, he sometimes would introduce a song that he played miraculously well but soon after delete it forever from his personal play list. Being the great talent that he was, if you were to put on one disc all the recordings he made of, for example, "My Romance", you would have a remarkedly vivid aural document of how in his hands the song evolved from a short, languid, literal solo rendition of only the melody to one that always began with an mind-boggling unaccompanied improvised introduction that turned into a set-ending romp that featured each member of his trio. In the upper echelons of dining, some chefs are abandoning the notion of a repertoire. Some of us are old enough to remember a time when gastronomic travellers to France sought out destination restaurants and destination dishes. Not only would one make it a point to dine at Paul Bocuse, but while there to have the "Soupe aux Truffes Noires VGE" or the "Loup en Croûte". And so it went with other of the highly-decorated restaurants. Just as significant, if you were haunted for months or even years on end by a dish, you could return to the place in question and taste the dish again, perhaps noticing subtle changes the chef had made in the interim. While today the recently coined expression "signature dish" is still in vogue, it seems to me that signature dishes are fewer and taken off the menu sooner. Of course, much depends on the restaurant in question. Nobu, for example, has many signature dishes that are always available such that after I was dining there on a regular basis, I eventually found myself no longer needing or craving to go as often. Thomas Keller seems to understand the notion of repertoire -- perhaps an influence of his experience with and focus on France. I wonder, though, if the notion of repertoire is losing currency with the progressive chefs of today. In my opinion what is causing this is are the prevalence and predominance of tasting menus and the attention paid to chefs who are creating at such a rate to cause virtually all dishes to come and go. Do chefs in the forefront of modern cuisine need constant innovation, so that they create hundreds of dishes that quickly fall by the wayside? If a chef makes a particularly inspired dish, should he feel obliged to offer it for two or three years, if not permanently? Would the serious dining public get a better return for their cost of a meal if they had the option of trying at least one dish that was reputed to show the chef at his or her best? Should the notion of repertoire be taken to heart by the better younger chefs of today?

What makes this set of circumstances unique is the need to enhance shareholder value. French three-star restaurants are generational; no chef lives forever. Loiseau has no progeny in a position to take over the kitchen, unlike Pierre Troisgros (remember he lost his brother, but because there were two running the operation the restaurant barely skipped a beat) who has a son, Michel, in firm control; or Georges Blanc who has two sons working in the kitchen. The closest to the Loiseau situation has been the man he tried to emulate in certain ways, Alain Chapel. Since Chapel's sudden but natural death at about the same age of Loiseau, Suzanne Chapel has managed to keep the doors open because of Philippe Jousse, who was Chapel's chef de cuisine for eight years. The restaurant is surviving with its diminished two-star rating while waiting for Chapel's 19-year-old son to finish his culinary studies and apprenticeships. Loiseau, however, has, I believe an 11-year old son (and 12-year-old daughter). The widow Dominique and the shareholders are in a tough spot. Veritable temples of gastronomy such as Grand Vefour and Restaurant de la Pyramide were restaurants only and could be sold on the basis of their history to Champagne houses who then hired accomplished young chefs to run their kitchens. With Groupe Loiseau, you have a much different situation. Unfortunately the die was cast when Bernard Loiseau acquired the restaurant in Saulieu, which had a bad location in terms of both transportation and touristic resources. He compounded the error by ambitiously upgrading the property. Instead, he should have kept it small or, as Jean Bardet did, sell the restaurant early in his career and moved to a small city like Tours (which Bardet did) or to Paris a la Pierre Gagnaire. The current assets fall into three categories. One is assets relatively unaffected by Loiseau's death. There are the three Paris restaurants which may lose a bit of business by no longer being able to capitalize on the fact that they are somehow subject to the three-star touch of Bernard Loiseau. Second are those assets that are no longer productive; i.e. the consulting and branding. Third are the assets whose value is physical in nature, but need to be made desireable once more. These would be the major asset of the physical plant in Saulieu: the restaurant, bar, public rooms, hotel rooms, kitchen, spa, gift shop, and wine cellar. It is hard to imagine selling these assets, given their location and economic climate, for much money. Thus, the burden falls on Dominique Loiseau, unless she wants to walk away and leave her and the corporation "destitute", to engage a potentially great chef; raise some more money, no doubt; and hope that the economy and scary geopolitical situation improve. My guess is that Groupe Loiseau will sell the three restaurants in Paris, take on more debt if it can be done (taking advantage of the low interest rates in Europe), and hope to find a very talented chef. History has shown the three-star restaurateurs such as Jean-Claude Vrinat (Taillevent) and Claude Terrail (La Tour d'Argent) can remain three-star restaurants with ever-changing chefs de cuisine. I believe, however, that she will have to find a chef who creates some buzz. She may have to forsake Loiseau's "Nouvelle-Cuisine" influenced cooking for an avant-gardist, as she needs someone who can attract attention. It wl be interested to see what her bankers decide to do.

I have a guy from Brooklyn here whose wife is Italian. They like Monte's on Carroll Street in Brooklyn. The search feature turns up nothing, but has anyone dined at this restaurant?

Nick, in a PM to me that Varmint wrote several days ago, he raised the point that suicide nullifies a life insurance policy on executives' lives. As we did not know if this applies to such situations in France, we decided not to post it. But now that you raise it, perhaps someone can tell us if it is possible that the company will be able to be compensated for Loiseau's death by his own hand.

Grant, to be quite candid with you, I have yet to be bowled over by a chef whose preponderance of culinary learning has come from having gone through the Culinary Institute of America. In your case, how would you rank it in terms of the way you cook next to, first, growing up around restaurants, and, second, working for accomplished chefs? One reason I ask is that in the course of a lengthy, candid conversation with a French pastry chef of a fancy New York restaurant, he felt that the best chefs were formed through their apprenticeships. Also, what do you think of the CIA?

Peter, I don't know Turin restaurants anything like I know the ones in the Piemonte countryside. El Cambio is overpriced and touristy, given its long history and beautiful Rococco setting. One restaurant I ate in years ago, but remains an old classic for down-to-earth Piemontese cuisine is Tre Galline. It is medium-priced. My favorite places for lunch are the elegant cafes, of which there are many. There is one really famous old one that must have been on via Matteoti under the arcades. But I have been to a few cafes and they all share a remarkable array of impeccably fresh and delicious sandwiches and salads. I am sure you wll get suggestions from other memebers.

The moderators have decided to turn the question I asked Jonathan two posts above into a topic of its own that we hope people from all walks of life will enjoy answering. Take a look at it ("What Bernard Loiseau Left Behind") and reply on that thread if your post is relevant.

An extreme example of the need to have what is called “key man insurance” is vividly brought to the fore with the suicide of Bernard Loiseau. Because he was the only name chef to ever have floated his enterprises on a stock exchange (The “Second Marché” of the Paris Bourse), his death put the price of the stock into question and left a three-star restaurant without its three-star chef. Before Loiseau's death, shares in Groupe Loiseau “Art de Vivre”, http://bourse.bernard-loiseau.com, traded at €5.10. Trading is now suspended, with the last bid at €0.50. It is anyone's guess what the shares will be worth when trading resumes. As the above website shows, the Loiseau family and the shareholders are left with a relatively small but interesting array of assets. To reach their maximum profitability, however, requires the presence of Loiseau himself with the possible exception of the three “Tante” restaurants in Paris. If you were called in to salvage, if not try to restore to fiscal strength, the interests of the family and the shareholders, what would you advise? In typical French fashion, the above website makes no mention about the profitability of the company or any outstanding debt. Nonetheless, the mission is to propose a way to extract maximum value and future profitability. Let’s make this a collaborative effort. No one person needs to post an overall plan to put the company back on its feet. You should address the area you know most about or suggest a useful idea. Keep in mind that the major asset is the restaurant in Saulieu, which Loiseau slowly built up as a kind of culinary resort with hotel rooms, a health spa, and a boutique, and that one fundamental problem is that Saulieu is not close to a major city, is not served by railway and not a general tourist destination. Also, Loiseau had only young children, so there is no heir-apparent to take over.

Jonathan, what would you advise management (probably the widow) to do next? There is hardly any name value left, I would think, which destroys the ancillary businesses such as books, consulting, and maybe the packaged foods. The main component is the hotel-spa-restaurant in Saulieu. Who will come to eat and stay there? What about the intrinsic value of the plant? How could one sell it? What about trying to lure a highly-promising young chef or someone from a major hotel?

A correction, Jonathan. Trading was suspended in Groupe Loiseau at .50 euros. I haven't seen yet if and when it has resumed. I imagine it will be a while before it does.

I think it was called Restaurant Schillinger. And wasn't it in Colmar? Two stars rings a bell, but I never ate there. I recall that there was murder involved.

Andrew: I, Steve Plotnicki and Jonathan Day are all big fans of La Cave (9 rue de la Republique) which is open for Sunday lunch. It's a bistro with Provencal cooking on a quite refined level, but still true to its roots. It is very friendly and medium-priced. It may be a good idea to reserve ahead considering how many French go out for lunch on Sunday.

Awbrig, the most interesting parts of the articles are that he was the only big-time chef to have gone public (Junior Market of the Paris Bourse. The shares never did anything. He floated himelf because he was 5 millions euros in debt). It quotes Bocuse as saying that the demotion from 19 to 17 in the 2003 Gault Millau and a couple of negative stories in the press are what killed him. Otherwise it is a recap of his career; working at Troisgros at age 15, running a restaurant in Paris, then the Cote d'Or which he bought in 1982. Finally three stars in 1991. He had three bistros in Paris, as well. What will become of the place? He may still have a really fine cellar.

http://miseajour.apicius.com/loiseau/fr/do...ssierpresse.asp This will tell you all you need to know about Loiseau. It must be quicker to go to Google and type in "Groupe Loiseau". It might be a classic case of overambition or lack of foresight combined with reality coming home to roost. We will see. There is a strong implication of suicide in the Figaro article.

Thanks, Steve, for posting that. It's a real schocker. I suspect it was financial difficulties more than the downgrade from Gault-Millau that was responsible, although the downgrade may have been the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. I first met Bernard Loiseau in the late 1970s when he was hired by a Paris restaurateur, a M. Verget, who had purchased La Cote d'Or in Saulieu. Loiseau had recently come from Troisgros. We had a pleasant conversation sitting at the bar the morning after we had dined there. He was very modest and gentle. We did not return until 1992 or so, and by then he had three Guide Michelin stars and an enormous head. He mimicked Alain Chapel in the quasi-imperial way he spoke to you, which I found rather offensive. (That they resembled each other in appearance may have had something to do with it). The fact is that he never was regarded by experienced gastronomes or gastronomic travelers as being at the top level, and I think his restaurant was not well-located in the first place. In fact, I and my wife were discussing this very subject with Lizziee and her husband four nights ago at dinner. Nonetheless, you hate to see it happen. It has to be a complicated story which will provide a lot of fodder for the gastronomic grist mill.

Victor de la Serna, restaurant reviewer and culinary writer for Madrid's "El Mundo" newspaper contributed the following to the discussion on the Spain and Portugal forum in the thread "Regional Food. Where to find good examples". Several moderators thought that his post would make a good and suitable Symposium topic for, among other reasons, its relevance well beyond Spain. Victor graciously agreed to make his post available. What's the real state of health of regional cuisines from major European culinary nations outside the strict borders of the regions themselves? By this I mean in public restaurants operating in a national capital like Paris, Rome or Madrid or in an international hub like New York or London? My (concerned) opinion is: Not good at all! And getting worse! I don't include modern cuisine with some regional overtones (the controversial Hélène Darroze in Paris would be a good example), which is easier to find, but truly dyed-in-the-wool regional places, 'conservatories' where old recipes that are slowly (or quickly!) disappearing from family tables are still reproduced, lovingly and with the right, original ingredients. (The latter is a big, and increasing obstacle. So many sausages that are no longer made, so many little birds which are now banned from human consumption because of hunting restrictions, so much local produce that is no longer economical to reap - like saffron and capers in southeastern Spain, so many kinds of fish now depleted or protected from overfishing.) Changing tastes (the search for lightness, the search for exoticism) play a role too, I guess. In the end, the fact remains that even in the capital of the leading culinary nation, i.e. Paris, regional cuisines are patchily represented, and in addition the sheer availability of good regional restaurants is dwindling. Taking a look at my most recent notes, it appears to me that only the broad southwest of France and Alsace are still rather widely represented: confit, magret and foie gras are stuff the French don't get tired of. (Neither do I, even if my waistline says I should.) So there's Au Trou Gascon, the 80 year-old À Sousceyrac and a few others. And, noteworthy from other regions, Martin Cantegrit's Récamier (Burgundian; nice wines!) and the irreplaceable Ambassade d'Auvergne (I wonder: is there any other Auvergnat restaurant left in the world with this level of authenticity even in Clermont-Ferrand?) The rest is mainly in the 'bistrot' range: Moissonnier (Lyon/Beaujolais), Graindorge (northern French with Flemish overtones; good beers), Les Olivades (Provençal), and Jean-Guy Loustau's stupendous Au Bascou (French Basque) among some others. But where is a good Normand restaurant? A good Franche-Comté restaurant? A good Catalan restaurant? A good Lorraine restaurant? A good Breton restaurant? Another important proviso: With two restaurant groups (Frères Blanc and Groupe Flo) taking over 90% of Paris' traditional brasseries, these have become more 'themed' than truly regional, with such places as Chez Jenny keeping only a smattering of choucroute dishes but seeing their Alsatian style diluted in the group-oriented current offerings. (That said, both Flo and the Blancs are maintaining a very commendable culinary level in their restaurants, so I won't even dream of knocking them! It is just that a degree of homogeneity is unavoidable when a group takes over. But at least with the groups, the restaurants remain open and bustling.) Don't think the situation is much better in Rome, save for a few Tuscan places: go beyond the irreplaceable (here I am using that dreaded word again!) Colline Emiliane, and there isn't much in terms of serious Bologna-style cooking, including the real Bolognese sauce... In London, New York or Singapore, it is (IMHO) even less varied, of course. So my own conclusion is: get to the real regional places and enjoy them while you can. They may not be around forever. Possibly others will see it differently. But that's been my experience.

Beachfan, is that the store started by a couple from New Jersey? While it was 5-6 years ago that I went, I remember liking the whole ambiance and the pizza. Are you down there for spring training?

vmilor reminds us that there are errors of omission in addition to those of commission, in which we overlook and forget a restaurant that another person might like. You know it when someone tells you that they "discovered" a great restaurant that turns out to be the little gem you forgot to mention. I find that much depends on the level or type of restaurant you recommend. Simple restaurants, often highly-specialized ones, tend to be the safest recommendations: lobster pounds or seafood in the rough, for instance. One establishment that I hesitate even to call a restaurant, but is well-known to New Yorkers heading up to Connecticut or the Berkshires in the Red Rooster on route 22 in Brewster. It is a seasonal place where you stand in line in front and buy hot dogs, burgers, fries, frozen custard and the like and eat them outside seated at picnic tables. Everybody seems to like it. On the other hand, the toughest recommendations are the restaurants comprising what I often call "the great, unwashed middle. Overseas these might be one-star Guide Michelin restaurants, bistrots and trattorias. Here it is whatever I am able to suggest whenever someone asks me where to eat in the Berkshires. Even at the highest end, it is hardly risk-free. Would I recommend the French Laundry after my one uneven dinner? Probably so, but with a caveat. Many non-gastronomic people I know may not appreciate making a big effort to go to El Bulli or spending $450. each to dine at L'Arpege. Sometimes it is a factor of assessing if a person asking you for an address or two "makes the grade", which is why I recommend a bistro over a three-star or Mary's Fish Camp instead of Le Bernadin. It is not so simple much of the time, this recommending restaurants business.

Ron, it's not what I would call good. The visit did give me a jumping off place for a thread about chefs' tasting menus and offerings in general that I will futz around with over the weekend.

You may have to be patient for a few days or so: Liz is on the road and I'm not ready yet to think about it.

Tonight four of us are going for the chef's tasting menu, I believe. I or Lizziee (or both) will try to grant your request.

One of e-Gullet's most intrepid and experienced international gastronomes recently told me that he will be dining at a restaurant I had recommended on the site. The restaurant in question, while listed in the Michelin Guide, has no stars and is not luxurious, but sits in an enchanting woodland location on a small country road. We had a delicious meal cooked single-handedly by the mother of the young girl who was doing the serving. I half-jokingly replied to the gastronome, who is making a tour of several of the best, more fancy addresses in Italy, that by choosing to visit this modest restaurant, he was holding my feet to the fire. Recommending restaurants to people raises a host of concerns. It tests your connoisseurship and skill as an advisor. The information and opinions you give should be of recent vintage, thus forcing you to maintain your own gastronomic research. You need to tailor your recommendations to those you advise, sizing up their taste in food, prior experience, budget, and seriousness of purpose. And since every restaurant occasionally misfires, you must hope that your advisees will not be the victims of a hungover chef or a waiter whose hemmorhoids are acting up. Once the recipient of our dining advice has acted upon it, most of us find it hard to accept feedback with equanimity. There are few ego boosts more powerful than hearing from a diner who was delighted by your recommendation. Yet it can be crushing to hear of a mediocre meal at a restaurant that you had highly recommended. On the other hand, most of us occasionally ask someone else for advice on dining out. I have a coterie of friends and acquaintances whose advice I trust; when I go outside this group, I am invariably disappointed. Their opinions are usually more reliable than that of locals in areas where I choose to dine. Is it worth the effort to share your dining history with others? If so, to what extent? What risks are entailed in doing so? Do you experience deep satisfaction when someone expresses gratitude for your restaurant recommendation that has hit the mark? And do you feel exasperation, incredulity, anger or even fiscal responsibility when someone lets you know that your recommendation resulted in a bad meal at significant expense? What kind of restaurants do you feel most comfortable in recommending: for example, modest or specialty ones versus world-famous, highly-rated ones? What other aspects of restaurant-recommending strike you as important? When your friends recommend restaurants, how do you evaluate or screen their advice before acting on it? I aimed this note at amateur "reviewers". For the pros, how does being a critic-for-hire change your perspective on making restaurant recommendations privately? Anecdotes welcomed.

Are they rating meals or restaurants? If it's the former, then in my book Arpege gets an 18, a 20, and a 19.

My guess is that next year's guide will have additional 20/20s so that Gault-Millau will have an absolute top ranking; same as Michelin's three stars, which also do not leave room for improvement. All the chefs with 19's could not be too happy about this, either. To me it's another manifestation of the chauvinism that runs rampant in France and which we are seeing in other, more significant forums.

A constant refrain from Gault and Millau in their heyday was that 19 (and then 19.5) was their highest rating because "perfection is not of this world." My best guess is that the Guide feels that Spain is threatening France as today's most exciting country for innovation in haute cuisine, so they give an unprecedented rating to the French chef who cooks most in the style of Adria. GaultMillau is exhibiting a typically French mind-set if you think hard about it.