bourdain

These are deep, deep waters, friends. Be afraid. Be very afraid. My capsule review of the Zagats: "Some say a compendium of arbitrarily selected commentary from cat-loving would-be wordsmiths and a useful listing of addresses and telephone numbers. Others remark that these two make them yearn for the good old days of the Gambinos."

Matthew: I think "My Country My Kitchen" was far and away the best show on Food Net. Are they still making them? I handed a Beardie to Irene Wong last year--so I hope/assume so. Which leads me to my questions: Where are the Gordon Ramsay and Eric Ripert episodes? Were one hour shows filmed--or are they half hours? Is Planet Food independently produced--like my show--and whats the story with that? Some of them are pretty good.. Explain Rooney.

Meant every word. The mushrooms in particular are awe-inspiring.. And the local weed is spectacular.

The All-Offal meal at the Heathman was terrific--160 reservations for the night (busy they told me), though not eveyone ordered guts. Big sellers were the sweetbreads, the rabbit kidneys, and the surprising hit: cocks combs with halbut. Philippe Boulot (Boulot means "the job" in French btw) and some of his crew sat down to eat and drink some really nice wines at the end of the night--followed by a raucous booze-fest going-away party for one of their cooks--who's headed for a stage in France. The evening was marked by much frivolity, good cheer and mayhem--and Somewhere there's a photograph of me spanking the bare butt of said cook, who apparently regularly strips down to a gold lame thong and drapes his dong on the shoulders of his culinary comrades. He dances quite gracefully--and like all of Bouot's crew, is a "monster" in the kitchen. I stood at the end of the line for a while watching them cook and felt terribly useless, old and homesick for the days when I actually worked or a living. There are two women in particular on the Heathman line, a saucier and a grillardin who are absolute "Rottweilers" (to use a Ramsayism). It was truly beautiful to watch these two kick ass and bust balls mid-rush--and one of them had just had a kid--working up to her ninth month. Give me ten cooks like these and I could rule the world. Earlier--a visit to the Farmers Market, some mushroom fondling...Portland, for a politically correct town is still pretty smoke friendly in saloons--seemingly drawing a reasonable happy medium accomodating both smokers and non (No smoking in most restaurants--but still at many bars...outdoor cafes). The most heavily tattooed population of cooks I've ever seen-very friendly people, lots of restaurants, incredible hi quality food and wine. Good place. And the 10 dollar steak from the Acropolis is not bad. My liver hurts....it tastes like a wolverine shat in my mouth and my brain is shrivelled up like a sun-dried chickpea--so I must be having a real good time.

Fat Guy: You forgot the Foundation's fabulous Tiki Lounge--where EVERY hour is Hapy Hour. "Show us your burns and the first five drinks are on the house."

Fantastic! Of particular interest are salaries, operating costs and "expenses". Any first hand stories from sommeliers (I've heard some good ones), chefs, restaurant managers, vendors?

Yeah!! C'mon, Shaw! I'll show you mine if you show me yours. Get digging journo-boy! Let's make news!

As a not-for-profit, the whole shebang--including salaries, "expenses", operating costs, disbursements should be public record. Any legal beagles out there? Somebody have LEXIS? Let's all have a thorough look! As far as the Awards ceremony: All those nice folks doling out the food downstairs are working for free, yes? The labor and food donated. And the awards themselves seem all to be preceded by a mini-commercial: "The Ronco Miracle Egg Scrambler Best Chef Hawaii-Alaska Award" and the signage seems to usually bear the imprint of AmEX or somebody else...Chefs and restaurants and the industry have been VERY generous over the years--yet what goes back to the industry--where it counts? I am very very pleased that there is significant scholarship money--but who gets it? What percentage comes directly from sponsors? And how come--in an industry that is predominantly staffed by Mexican and Latino workers are the Awards ceremonies as nearly all-white as Dollywood? Is ANY money or activity directed at the people who are the backbone of the industry--you know the folks back home doing all all the cooking while Chef and sous and the white boys fly to New York to pucker up on 12th Street? And how does membership break down--by demographic? WHO actually eats at the House. WHICH journalists actually show up--and at the end of the day--does it translate into useful publicity? I have seen precious little coverage anywhere emanating from either events at the House--or even about the Award winners. No question that it's a good thing if you win the Golden Sombrero. You bring honor to your clan. But Who votes? The members? Who ARE the members?Percentage of chefs/cooks/restaurateurs vs. "interested gourmets". When I last saw a ballot, I recall my amusement at voting for the Best Southwest category, for instance" " Oh yeah....I heard of him. I guess HE'S the best. I don't know these other guys." How does that work? Let us assume the best--as a starting point. That the Beard Foundation is an important platform for talented chefs and culinary professionals--particularly those who live and work outside of the major cities. But I can tell you that among many many chefs (even the winners), there is an undercurrent of deep suspicion and skepticism--even resentment for all the freebies over the years. I think a fair and full accounting here would be an important and useful thing. Any help? Personal anecdotes? Reportage from our better connected journos? This could put Daily Gullet on the map. heh heh heh.....

I sense the makings of a very interesting thread on the Beard Foundation. For instance: Where DOES all that money, corporate participation, dues, revenue, free labor, free food go? Is there a library or resource facility or job data base or employment assistance for chefs, cooks or culinary students? Maybe an assistance or legal counselling program for all the cooks in this country who need help with immigration status? A scholarship program--in scale with revenue? What are salaries and expenses of Beard employees/officers? When Beardie pashas are say..visiting San Francisco--and have a nice meal at a restaurant and put it on their Beard card. Where's that money come from? Do they reimburse the Foundation? Or is that "research"? Think there's some Kitchen Aids, Vulcans and Cervena lamb kicking around some private kitchens? Are they considered a not-for-profit? What is average cost/benefit to a restaurant who agrees to pay all expenses (labor, travel, food cost, lodging, dues) to cook at Beard House.? Is there then a commesurate rise in their business? Who LIVES in that House anyway--and how much money do they NEED? They're sure not spending it on the kitchen.

You're right. I pulled my punches.

I recently ate at WD50 in NYC...the foie gras anchovie terrine with pommelo, tarragon and bitter chocolate was challenging--but delicious. Ditto the squid linguine, asian pear, serrano ham, sweet paprika yogurt thing. Really good. I think this kind of high-wire fusion act falls in the category of "Don't Try This At Home". Meaning the vast majority of practitioners should probably stick with the classics. But there clearly ARE those who can pull it off. Wylie Dufresne being one of them...Adria surely another. Like you, I have not eaten Grant Achatz's food yet. But I'm curious. Ain't you? I , also tend to align myself with the "Bloods" meaning the terroirist, cook-from-the-region reference tradition sense memory crowd--as opposed to the "Crips" (the fusion mob). But I really think there is indeed room for a few brave souls to serve food which "challenges" the customer, makes you think and analyze. That IS, I agree, very much in opposition to the whole idea of sitting down at the table. But why not? The first person who tried a speedball probably thought they were messing with a classic--and yet that mixture proved very popular.

And some of us have very happy--even post-orgasmic sense-memories of pine! Reminds me of the old Show World.

Adria proudly demonstrated his spray-can scent- mister on a recent visit to his lab--an accompaniment to a wild mushroom dish he serves at the restaurant: It smells of "wet forest floor". I detected pine.

I'll always remember eating at Lutece as a culinary student. I knew NOTHING. A nervous, horribly dressed, long-haired yokel. Utterly intimidated but grinning idiotically, I mentioned casually to the waiter that I was studying to be a chef and a short while later, Soltner appeared tableside and spent a long while talking to me, explaining the menu, asking about my career plans. He sent me and date out an extra course and returned as I left to offer best wishes. I was so green I didn't know what to order for wine--the sommelier stepped in and suggested something--without embarrassing me by asking how much I could spend (clearly very little).I didn't know how to tip. Seperate tips for captain and waiter? I asked. They were warm and indulgent. I'll never forget their kindness. Soltner, by the way, ate the same thing for his lunch every single day of his career at Lutece: A plate of buttered noodles--sometimes with a few scraps of foie tossed in. I should have added him to my earlier list of very nice, unpretentious chefs. I should mention as well that long before Confidential hit the bestseller lists, when how the old school generation of French chefs like Pepin and Soltner would react was very much in question (God knows they had every right and likelyhood of scorning and denying any relevance to what they did) they were all of them--kind and supportive. Pepin in particular backed me up publicly on many of my supposedly "scandalous" assertions early on --and at a time when the issue was very much in doubt. They could easily have closed ranks and said "This American who nobody has heard of is full of shit." All this was long before the days of "special treament.

Sound man? Food stylist? All that money? Surely you jest. If there's a common theme in my travels--where most people (Japan, Vietnam, Singapore, Mexico, Brazil etc etc etc) neither know nor care WHO the fuck I am. (Goofy-looking American with two scruffy backpackers with what look like home video cameras who seems curiously interested in what they're eating) I have been almost always treated with generosity and kindness. Show up hungry with an open mind and you will be treated well nearly everywhere on this planet. Cameras or no cameras. The tradition of offering food to the wandering stranger persists-even in countries you'd think would be hostile to Westerners. One of the biggest problems I've encountered on the road is getting very poor people who've taken me into their homes to accept payment . Which brings me back to my Chefs Table psoition. Is it SO unbelievable tha the urge to cook is a basic one? That people who cook well--and KNOW it--whether proprietor of a pho stand, rice farmer surprised mid-meal by a goofily grinning and hungry interloper--or three star chef are actually PROUD of what they do--and might want to share that with someone/ANYONE who clearly appreciates their efforts? Some of you folks clearly don't get out enough. At risk of sounding like Senor Hugs-A-Lot, there's a lot of pretty nice people out there in the world . Some of them are even chefs.

IS the Chefs Table "concept" quickly becoming a popular marketing scam? Sure. No doubt. Droves of adenoidal gastro-pub chefs are no doubt constructing shrines to themselves in their already overcrowded kitchens. And I agree with brother Spenser that most kitchens (mine for instance) would hate the idea of a bunch of gawping customers watching us scratch our balls in between orders. But the Chefs Table originated as an informal setting for visiting chefs, cronies, special friends of the house to hang out and eat during and after service. It remains--in MANY of the better joints--a really good vantage point, venue for a unique and less formal eating experience. I know it's difficult for some here to believe that hotshot chefs actually care about you or might want to please you. Or that said hotshots might actually be nice. Spenser has already undermined his own argument by telling us of Keller's many kindnesses. While I have no doubts as to CW's stature in the industry, I'm reasonably sure Keller did not--prior to his good acts--know him by reputation. Yet he has struck up a friendly--if intermittent correspondence--and had a unique dining experience at the FL--by means of persistence and an honest expression of interest. Keller responded with generosity and kindness. "Bollocks" says Lord Michael. Specifically to my cuddly description of misty eyed three stars, waxing nostalgic over Mama's table and the simple pleasures of bread . Yet this is a constant theme in every late night conversation I have ever had with nearly every culinary guru I've met. Why is this so unbelievable? Nearly every Michelin chef came from extremely humble circumstances. Before donning the ill-fitting suit of public personna they cooked egg and chips for Dad (Donovan Cooke), helped Mom at the famly bistro before feeding the dogs and denuding bones as "marmitons" (Pepin), joined the family business (Arzak), were "sold into slavery"(Palladin). "I am a peasant" (Raymond Blanc), started as a dishwasher(Tetsuya) Ask any for their primary inspiration and you'll get "Mum" as the answer. Ask what they'd eat as a last meal and you'll get--always--a simple nostalgic answer. Approached in a straightforward, guileless way, a surprising number of chefs will respond in kind. Chefs LIKE to have regular customers--and if they're not complete twats, demanding or snobbish, will happily (over time) let down their hair and let them "in" to one degree or another. There IS, of course, traditionallly, an adversarial element--a basic paranoia and suspicion, an instinct to put on a show and a persona for the dining room. For many years, that was what was expected of us--that we were flighty, egotistical, condescending, melodramatic, histrionic tyrants. And those who continue to put on that game face before entering the dining room are working within an ages old tradition. Simply put--a lot of customers WANT to believe that the chef is prickly, rude and dangerously unstable. They think it's cute. Especially in England where one is often rewarded for this type of behavior. I'm saying it does not HAVE to be this way. That the chefs table experience, with a little advance work, a genuine interest in both food and cook, a little diplomacy--can be a rewarding one. I'd be interested in hearing from any civilians here of any random acts of kindness on the part of chefs. Or are we all complete bastards?

"Name one" responds Majumdar--at light speed--illustrating better than I ever could, my assertion that his suspicion--if not contempt--for chefs is instinctive. I'll do better: The following chefs are actually nice people with interesting things to say--and not just to visiting chefs getting "special treatment" : Ferran Adria Juan Mari Arzak Thomas Keller Eric Ripert Tetsuya Wakuda The list goes on--and could stretch on endlessly. Simon seems to feel that gouging, deceiving, bamboozling and anus-stretching are vital, even primary functions of the majority of talented chefs. Which makes one wonder why he even bothers to go out to eat. I know of NO talented chefs who got into the business, persevered through the system, endured the heat, hours and uncertainty--so that they could one day fuck over credulous customers (though I'm sure we can all cite examples of those who indeed over time crossed over to the dark side and began talking about themselves in the third person.) Most chefs got into the business because they LIKE cooking for people--and believe it or not--making them happy. Their careers--almost always--began with the simple act of cooking for friends or family--and those tasks remain the source of great pleasure. Their social skills with their clientele may vary widely--a characteristic of their tribe--and the rigors and insecurity of their profession. But given a glass of wine, a few free moments (more likely to occur at a Chefs Table), they often revert to the kinder gentler more eager to please versions of themselves: the kid who wants nothing more than a crust of good bread and some freshly churned butter and some good, like minded--and hopefully appreciative company. There are countless examples both recorded and anecdotal of chefs' kindness and generosity to strangers, hungry travellers, customers both new and regular. I'M supposed to be the cynic around here Majumdar! Look what you made me do!

The Chef's Table at its worst is a marketing tool, a VIP table for status conscious cult of personality high rolling punters. But at it's best--as at Arzak in Spain for instance--it's like having Sunday dinner at your Auntie's-only Auntie's got three Michelin stars. Friends of the house, visiting chefs, interested foodies can sit at a stripped down table, set up in the kitchen and meet the chef, meet the family, ask questions--and have the food explained directly by the chefs and cooks in a friendly and informal way while eating very very well. Curious about how they got that goose fat and truffle oil into that raw egg? They'll happily show you. Instead of a snooty waiter reciting ingredients in "menu speak", the chef tells you. And more often than not--as this IS the inbred world of cooking, there are friends in common, items of interest to be gossiped about--as the chef and cooks are likely to join you at the table for wine or cognac, maybe hang out having a few into the wee hours. And at Arzak's chef table, you can smoke. It might surprise Working Class Hero Majumdar that a good number of two and three star chefs are actually really nice people--with interesting things to say (out of view of the press or the dining room). With their guard down and after a few glasses most will happily revert to their roots--usually a modest rural upbringing, sentimental memories of simple, unadorned country food--telling details that speak of the real origins of their style and repertoire. The experience CAN be entirely charming, disarming and comfortable--free of the rigors of dining room etiquette. So many people who profess to love fine food and restaurants seem instinctively suspicious--even contemptuous of chefs-- the backstairs help putting on airs again (which of course is exactly what they've always been doing in the dining room). Excluding all the knuckleheads who are busily installing high tech chefs tables as just another high priced carnival ride, the Chefs Table CAN be a customer-friendly alternative to the straightjacketed formal dining experience--where you actually get to make new friends and even learn something about your food, where it comes from , what inspired it and WHO is actually making it. The last being an area about which most self-professed foodies are spectacularly ignorant.

Regular readers of egullet will know of my ambivalence on the subject of the Beard House. But friendship makes its own rules--and when Matt Moran of Sydney's ARIA restaurant called to say he'd be doing an event there and needed some help, I was of course happy to do what I could. I offered my services as prep-dog and brow-mopper--and put together a small additional crew to augment his. From Florida, I dragged my old sous-chef, STEVEN to serve as debrouillard, from the newly opened CASSIS in NYC (formerly L'Orange Blue), I recuited the frighteningly talented MAURICE HURLEY, and in the spirit of Old Home Week, brought along BETH ARETSKY (aka THE GRILL BITCH). The Aussie A-Team consisted of BEN, a very skillful former Ramsay protege, GREG--who apparently interrupted his wanderings in Bangkok to fly over and help out--and another kid-whose name I sadly forget--but who had dark rings under his eyes and an air of fatigue--possibly from the previous evenings debauch at Bellevue and Siberia. Much of the raw material was brought in from Down Under and we arrived in the Beard House's small but workable kitchen and got to work--the Aussies doing the heavy-hitting, the Yanks providing back-up. THE MENU: Passed hors d'oevres of: Oysters with Champagne Jelly and Ocean Trout Roe (really good--the jelly keeping the oysters fresh and shiny and moist) Seared Sesame Crusted Tuna with Seaweed (served in the ever-popular Asian spoons) Roasted Lamb Loin Crostini with Eggplant Relish (delicious) Greg Norman Sparkling NV Followed by: Peking Duck Consomme with Shaved Abalone, Star Ravioli and Asian Mushrooms Yalumba Reisling 2001 Pan Fried King Prawns (Mammoth sized) with St Maure de Touraine Tortellini, Corn Puree and Burnt Butter Vinaigrette Rosemount Hunter Valley Show Reserve Chardonnay 2001 Wild Barramundi with Watercress and Hazelnut Salad, White Bean Puree, and Red Wine Sauce (the Barramundi--from Australia but brought in by Peirless--was said by Moran to be better than the stuff he gets there) Giant Steps Old Bridge Cellars Pinot Noir 2001 Roasted Cumin-Crusted Lamb Rack with Pumpkin and Mustard Fruit Puree, Taglierini and Baby Leeks (not usually a fan of Aussie lamb over Colorado--this was an exception. Plump, tasty) Torbreck the Stedding Grenache Shiraz Mataro 2001 Crispy Date Cigar with Lemon Cream, Pears and Pistachio Ice Cream--garnished with mint sprouts (the cigars didn't make the trip well--a bit soggy) Execution was (naturally) flawless--with 85 meals drilled out in good time and good order. The kitchen was crowded with externs from culinary schools, and gawking guests, journos and functionaries passing to and fro, lingering on their way to the tables. The crowd was...as it so often is..was in aggragate fairly advanced in age. After thousands of miles in travel, and hours of toil, no doubt spectacular expenses, the last plates went out and Matt and triumphant crew were summoned to the upstairs dining room to receive the customary accolades and answer questions. First Question: " I'd a thought there'd be like Kangaroo or Koala on the menu. Why not?" Second Question (different guest): " These Australian wines are really good. How come you can't GET them here?" ANSWER from Moran" " You CAN get them here. In fact you can get these particular wines at Astor Liquors." Third Question (same guy as second): "How come you can't GET them here?" The triumphant Aussie/Yank kitchen cew adjourned to VERITAS where they were joined by the brilliant and volatile PHILIPPA COOKE of Melbourne's ONDINE restaurant, and Veritas chef SCOTT BRYAN for an evening of savage drinking and gossip. Prospects for next year's All-Koala Menu was a subject of pained and bemused discussion.

The pubs are next. They said it couldn't happen in NYC. It did.

The chopped liver is the Best.

Mario. Res Ipsa Loquitor.

No matter how agonizing you find his show (as I do), you have to admit a few basic facts about the Life of Emeril: He's a Fall River Mass kid who worked his way up the line. He ran a busy, by all accounts, very decent operation at Commanders...He started up and continues to oversee--by the very least charitable descriptions--some very good restaurants in New Orleans (I've met and drank with some of his chefs and cooks and crew--and they are NOT knuckleheads). He now sits atop a vast empire of restaurants, endorsements, merchandise, books and television shows--without as yet ODing. freaking out, hanging himself or going insane--as I would in a similar position. That show may make my blood run cold--and I truly don't know how he can look out at that crowd, but he is a significant entity Like it or not. He is, by professional standards (whatever you think of his recipes, his food or his delivery) neither a punk, nor a pretender. He put in his time And every day he does business, I'm making money from people who find him horrifying. And he's a constant and reliable source of Comedy Gold. Without him I lose half my act.

Yes! Tim Kopec is The Man!

I did not mention either Hitler or Stalin.