Book Notes on Gilles Pudlowski's "Comment

[John Talbott]

Gilles Pudlowski – “Comment être critique gastronomique et garder la ligne.” Rocher, 2004, 14,90 E. 160 pages

Following François Simon’s “Comment se faire passer pour un critique gastronomique sans rien y connaître” here is the Pudlo’s view of his métier; less funny than Simon, more serious about his figure but equally passionate about his food. (Warning for those tempted to go to the end to find “the” secret; there isn’t one. There’s nothing here about diet and exercise you wouldn’t find in a Jane Brody’s column – but that doesn’t mean it’s uninteresting.)

1. A funny job.

GP, as I’ll refer to him, is asked thousands of times, “That’s a job you have?” But he thinks he’s a journalist, a reporter and at the same time, a chronicler of things literary and gastronomic. While he used to be ashamed of the job, he’s past that. Now the worst thing is an obligatory meal; in Stockholm recently, he says he lunches here, dines there, runs to the covered market, tastes herring, etc., and it wrecks his schedule of 12:30 lunch and 8 PM dinner. He reels off the dishes he’s expected to “taste” that an up and coming chef prepares and feels like vomiting. He talks about places with 4 amuse-gueules, several wines from around the world; etc which he thinks is either crazy or exhibitionistic. But he’s determined not to become obese, alcoholic, dishonest, stupid, megalomaniac or all of the above. Everybody envies him, though, thinking he’s on perpetual vacation. And he suffers though hard bread, vinegary wines, and gloomy hotels, badly prepared or dangerously spoiled fish, even in the most glorious places (e.g. Hong Kong) because it’s his job.

2. Who made you such an expert?

He quotes Isaac Stern’s dictum that critics are like eunuchs, who know a lot but can’t do much. Some cooks turn into critics (e.g. Senderens, Robuchon and Coffe) while some writers turn to cooking (Gault). But to be a critic you’ve got to have lots of judgment criteria and lots of things to compare each thing to. You taste, you test, you eat, you ask but you don’t stuff yourself. Millau said that in this game, some know how to write, some know how to eat but rarely know both. GP writes for hours every day, at the end and early in the AM. You operate by comparison, by knowing sweet and sour, by knowing all types of foreign dishes. And if honesty is your best policy you may be believed by some and feared by others but you’ll be respected by everyone.

3. How do you keep in shape when eating all this?

Elementary: you can’t lose weight by eating. So if you eat everything that passes your plate in 10 years you’ll easily gain 30 pounds. GP like everyone likes to start with the amuse-gueules, especially when he’s hungry and has an empty stomach. And like everyone, he wants to try the dessert. But to finish a “marathon” meal without gaining weight is an oxymoron. He tells the story of having a 7 course meal prepared by Roland Mazère (as thin as a tennis player) who asked him how he (GP) could eat it all. And he says now he does not; he asks for half-portions or even in Alsace, insists on a plate of assorted fish or meat or desserts. Even then how does one stay thin? Answer: you don’t eat it all; you eat but parsimoniously; you taste but what’s on the tip of your fork.

4. The key word is balance.

Begin with a small lunch, more liquid than solid, cut pieces up, leave some and have as little as possible at dinner. He’s critical of Americans who have a sandwich at lunch but a big dinner; stressing that it takes 3 hours to digest a big meal. What else?: eat ‘til you’re full, no more; pass up the dessert and eau de vie; the rule is you should leave the table just a bit hungry. But watch out, Sundays when you go out with your kids to a film, it’s all too easy to have that ice-cream or pop-corn.

5. How best to pass up a temptation?

If you crave truffles, foie gras, langoustines, lobster, caviar, pibales etc, fine, but learn to vary your pleasures and oddly enough you’ll look more forward to new tastes than old standards. He names every chef in the starred world from Veyrat to Gagniere and says he’s most interested in how they replace sauces with emulsions and what’s new to each one rather than a knock-off of, say, El Bulli.

6. All regions are not equal.

That is, Lyon has cream, butter, fat, wine and charcuteries while Provence has olive oil, fish and vegetables and fruit. His worse meals have been heavy creamy ones and he tells the story of the mayor of Lyon who when reminded by his secretary to stick to his diet, orders the waiter to cancel the lettuce. Again the bottom line; alternate your pleasures.

7. I know nothing of glucids and lipids.

I’m not sure why this is here except to reinforce his position that he’s advocating sensible eating based on logic not chemistry and to indirectly and at times directly question Michel Montignac’s dietary fads of the 1980’s. He says he is awed by people like Karl Lagerfield who went from 225 lbs to 132 lbs by following Dr Jean-Claude Houdet’s diet for a year of green beans, hard boiled eggs, shrimp and halibut without wine or spirits or desserts.

8. Each morning is a test of courage.

Since he came from the Lot, he once had managed to eat fois gras five times a day. Now he’s challenged to find light and lightening dishes made by chefs like Passard and Savoy as well as foreign cuisines such as Japanese or Italian.

9. Foreign food.

It’s clear he loves foreign food and it suits him: Vietnamese, Thai, even American soul-food.

10. A brief elegy on green tea.

He says he got the idea from Passard who like Dorian Gray, stays young and whose secret is green tea and he devotes six pages to the wonder drink.

11. Water, the other elixir.

Oddly enough, in a chapter devoted to water, he starts out by quoting an Alsatian Nobel Laureate who insists his key to clear thinking is a glass of kirsch a day. But then he goes on to talk about more types of bottled water than I knew existed and he says he loves each one and their differences.

12. Don’t you want to take a break?

This chapter revolves around a simple story that while in Lucerne, after the fish and meat, he waited a long time (he likens it to “Waiting for Godot”) until the waitress says “Don’t you want a break?”

13. The Plimsoll line (which indicates the maximum safe loading levels on a ship).

Fat? He mentions several “large” chefs in the business and compares them with Guérard’s cuisine minceur. This chapter, like many others, mentions chefs and what they prepare and eat when out with him, which I found numbing after a while.

14. Let me tell you about Italy.

I think 80 pages into the book, his editor said, that’s not enough, so things begin to get “thin,” no joke intended, at this point. This chapter is rhapsodic about Italy where he loves the sights, eats well and has lost two pounds with each visit.

15. The tricks to look good.

GP says he’s not thin: 168 lbs, 6 feet, size 48 but his best friend is his tailor so he looks great. Then he gives his dress code suggestions: first, over-dress to avoid nasty surprises; second, wear classic rather than casual clothes; third, no sneakers, but black shoes; and fourth, grey and black make you look thinner.

16. To save yourself.

He relates his various weights at 20, at marriage, at maximum, etc. and notes that overeating ages you. He says he avoids group dinners (where I guess it’s inevitable to eat a lot and drink champagne etc.)

17. Eat with your eyes.

It just takes a glace to judge food; so if he’s trying to lose calories, he just looks. As an example he relates a trip to Lyon “yesterday” where by my count he had 6 food occasions but lost 4 ounces as well as a lunch with Bocuse and Troisgros at Hiramatsu where he dares to suggest one can eat “intelligently.”

18. Think of your body.

In which he relates losing 3 sizes through a tummy tuck 10 years ago; after which he craved food less, did sports even though not talented and leaves his plate half-eaten. He says each day is a battle and that holiday meals are potential disasters. (Again, there’s lots of dishes mentioned, chefs acknowledged, etc.)

19. And for you normal folks.

Here he notes that Craigh (sic) Claiborne had each dish three times before he wrote it up; not he, because that’s not what normal folks do. Then he tells how he arranges his day; he works at lunch, thus he tries to eat lunch at creative places (say in the 8th) and eat dinner to amuse himself at bistrots of friends say in the 11th.

20. The benefits of water-therapy (as in “thalassothérapie”).

He takes a week and goes to one of them, eats “correct foods” like vegetables and fish, and returns refreshed.

21. All-fish diets.

The best way to follow “thalassothérapie” is to continue eating fish a la vapeur.

22. And on vacation?

He doesn’t know the word, but he does go over Noel to Alsace and at the beginning of the year abroad (e.g. India, China, etc.)

23. The less I eat, the better I carry myself.

Despite this phrase that begins and ends this chapter, the middle is taken up recounting meals of the chefs (geniuses all) with whom he’s eaten from the 1980’s to present.

24. The ascetic moral.

One can suicide a “la Grande Bouffe” if one eats too much and you can die of hunger. He advises us to eat with pleasure but minimally and not to have to taste and/or eat everything.

25. Salute to his friend Fritz (Kobus)

This chapter is a salute to his favorite fictional food-lover, the product of two alsatio-lorrainian writers.

26. Be convivial.

In which he discusses the “lesson of Fritz,” e.g. to have a good time, in the context of Alsatian cuisine.

27. An elegy to walking.

In which he waxes about walking around the countryside which not only keeps one fit but allows you to see the true France.

28. All clouds have a silver lining.

GP declares that he suffers for us when he eats an off meal, gets put in a room facing a concrete wall, finds a cockroach in his salad, etc. The implication is that his discovery of bad food warns us off, saving us from having the same experience. He gives one example where nothing was good and he told the waiter just that when asked.

29. The warning shot across the bows.

He starts by saying there are days he feels like quitting and then goes on to mention many of the famous food critics for the national dailies and monthlies.

30. Hold on until you retire, Léon.

A continuation of the litany of food critics, men and then women (things get so sloppy here that he mentions Ruth Herschel (Reichl) of the New York Times.) Finally he mentions his elder chef-friends and mentors in what should have been an acknowledgement section. And with that he stops.

[fresh_a]

Have you read "Toscane(s)" yet?

[Bux]

A continuation of the litany of food critics, men and then women (things get so sloppy here that he mentions Ruth Herschel (Reichl) of the New York Times.)

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Not a good sign. If one expects others to take one's opinion as fact, it seems as if it would be good to get one's facts straight. I suppose a three star opinion would be one you'd not have to take with a grain of salt, just as salt shakers rarely appear on the table of a three star restaurant.

[robert brown]

John, thanks for saving me the effort of reading the book. I see Pudlowski on Gourmet TV. He comes across as serious and intelligent, even rather intellectual. I think, though, that he should tell the occasional joke.

[John Talbott]

Have you read "Toscane(s)" yet?

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No, this week we'll be in Sicily and not Tuscany so I saw no need to read it. Sometime maybe.

And Bux, recall that he misspelled Claiborne's name as Craigh too.

[Ptipois]

It's quite funny how French "critiques gastronomiques", these days, make a show of themselves and write books of so-called "advice" (how to do the job we do and still manage to, bla bla bla), as though they really wanted to breed a large hatch of little critiques gastronomiques amongst their readers... Which they certainly don't.

When you think of the mysterious process through which they are recruited and how few of them are picked, and — speaking of glamour jobs — when you add to the picture that there are many more top models out there than food critics (I'm not talking about the sometimes large teams that work under the critics, only the stars who write the books), indeed, this literary trend ne manque pas de sel.

No offence to this respectable trade intended. But to me, "comment être un critique gastronomique et... etc., etc." sounds a bit like "How to be an archbishop and yet survive".

[fresh_a]

"Toscane(s)" is a work of fiction, not a travel guide. No reason not to read it (not unless you require your fiction to correspond to eventual travel destinations!)

[John Talbott]

"Toscane(s)" is a work of fiction, not a travel guide. No reason not to read it (not unless you require your fiction to correspond to eventual travel destinations!)

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Actually, I find that more fun, so am taking 1 nonfiction and 1 fiction that's set in Sicily.

[John Talbott]

Today's Figaro reports that Gilles Pudlowski has two books appearing next week - on Corsica and Brittany. Please remember that if you order them through eGullet our worthy organization gets a minor but significant contribution to reducing its costs.

[John Talbott]

Well, the New York Times has finally discovered Gilles Pudlowski in an article by Frank Prial in today’s Dining section entitled “The Anti-Michelin: Caution and Anonymity Not Required”?. Revelations: the (small) size of his publication run, the few places he can review himself, his personal life and his blasé attitude about taking free meals. Otherwise not much new. Which is not to say it's not a complimentary, nice and informative article.