This does is not a record, let alone analysis. It is an exchange of glances. On OFF, a little, on the kitchen much. Between it, and its dazzling me. "Because writing about food is like eating, it feels better to many". ***
Cookie
it to me the difficult task of beginning, good grip, which will hold the reader until the end. I will dare, by first trying to touch you you. I know how sweet, as sometimes overlooked, is a vast field of experience, treats, sometimes misunderstandings for you. So I really wanted to tell you about the cracker pork Kobe Desramault. Not only because I know you'll have things to say about it, but because I tasted a few months ago. I remember the few minutes before I was torn between curiosity and anxiety pork served as a softness. And yet I think it's a dessert the most significant of my life: raw pork as part supported by the sweetness of the praline nuts, bitter beer Panepot, caramel black chicory, ice creamy to beer, the foam would have loved you, zabaglione, everything was there. Perhaps also because Kobe Desramault brought us the dessert filled with doubts and reservations. He had that same discretion to off those who are not necessarily comfortable in public but whose passion for the art prevails and takes us ...
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Sophie Oh yes I like sweet, this is my favorite playground without being an end in itself, like the sweet to savory in its report, its boundaries blurred in his keys, his flirtations acid, bitter, crunchy, soft, smooth, sharp, in his love affair with a grain of salt. And I love the salty for the same reasons. I wonder when these two worlds will cease to live together, despite the opening speech on the fall of their wall. While I welcome the approach of a public place left to sweet, I must admit that it is still in the realm of chefs that I let myself be carried away by beautiful greedy impulses. This cracker really speaks to me, this composition speaks to me, because as you say, everything is there: the fat, round, of the coating, and bitterness, crunch, texture, life ! one dessert should always be like this: the opposite of redundancy and allocation of constructivist pastry :-) Kobe was perhaps filled with doubts, but it seems miles away as the sorcerer's apprentice we meet sometimes, often. On another note, I loved the "sweet" by Alexandre Gauthier, the ice ball with sorrel balanced on the plate, and the meringue stone ... All his dishes bore the mark of a beautiful insurance (although I think the credo of impertinence should not drag its creativity), and I look forward to the road to the Madeleine.
* Cookie
impertinence Oh, I so loved that word! Alexandre Gauthier has distinguished provocation, to prevent any critic to take it as such. His cuisine is radical, wild, sometimes brutal, but is certainly not ostentatious or demonstrative. With these old branches of broccoli, it overcomes all the proprieties and stoves that may be what makes it sassy. It does not use any ingredient too, removed his seafood tasting menu by sake of "reframing." Surprise, I who had so immersed in his shell, green almonds and strawberries. But Alexander Gauthier seems to know that nothing should be fixed, that "signature dishes" should not even exist, that the kitchen is experienced from the moment and deserves a little! His prickly chestnuts which one ice burnt toast and cocoa nougat are the best example. But what about others who do not think their kitchen in terms of effect, but simply in terms of taste, cooks Foster?
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Arnaud Daguin example? which seems to be cooking gourmet taste and essential in its choice, or rather his desires, his generosity. Funny how the apparent discrepancy between the frame and ultra modern minimalist table d'hôte cuisine and voluptuous is actually a total fitness: a big old oven, beautiful vegetables, close with the producers, it does is not superfluous, everything is in compliance and simplicity. It occurred to me as a symbol of hospitality, commensality. In the spirit of Troisgros and Grand Covered. There is also this and this free gluttony desire to give pleasure to lick your fingers at this frenchie Greg.
What counts, at bottom, these are the little stars in the eyes of those who eat and do eat, right? In fact, what's new at Mr. Passard? We had to leave without listening to Deauville. kiss
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I liked the poetry of Arnaud Daguin: "The small vegetable armor was sacrificed at the altar of taste," I laughed these injunctions Dr Coudran, tenderness he had in speaking of his "designer-wife, his unsheathed a writer from another era, in short, a very nice person who revives my desire to go lose myself in Hegi!
It's funny that you mention Passard, probably because these two men have a real relationship to the product, as when a real sensuality Arnaud Daguin Bones his pigeon, when Alain Passard evokes the colors of the vegetables in the touching of the hand. Passard Ah, what will! This moment of exchange for four voices was a rare beauty. Perhaps because Alain Passard came with his gardener, perhaps because he was able to make very small beside the real protagonists, vegetables, perhaps because it came with a deprivation essential to impregnation of his words and gestures to cook. Few techniques, just a simmering pan that houses almost nonchalantly root vegetables vibrant flavors, just a "I put in the service of my knowledge all vegetable cook animal. A sentence Andrea Petrini almost had to extract as compared to its vegetable seems intimate and hollowing. Obvious who steadfastly obeys the rule of the season "if we think the product 12 months out of 12, we have no creativity needed rest . That means Mr. Passard here? The product manual creation, that it emanates from him? What do you think Cookie, did you get this impression from other cooks?
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mmmmmmmmhhhhhhhhhh ... ... .. hard question, because in fact the general discourse is still saying that it is the product that gives guidelines, product, season, origin: reason. The chefs we love you and I always have this intelligence there, take the nature not as a constraint but as a given, from which they embroidered and lets talk about its meaning and its soul. The creation of the product does not come, but it gives a frame, a frame. I loved seeing transposed the ferment of ideas in the film, with Inaki, Christian Puglisi and Alexandre Gauthier. You who so loves the picture, what did you think?
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I was shocked by the film Inaki. I have not tried to find him a sense to know what was behind every image, every sound, I let myself into his universe, letting myself be soothed by the colors of amber, gold, forest ... This is his entire kitchen that appears in this film, a kitchen instinct, as currently these plans jerky, these raw filmed for more macro close, again for privacy. Moreover Inaki alluded to the importance of the eye as much as that of taste "as the eye look that taste" and continue to win even if a mistake or do not reach the expected result as with her milk brewed fermented herring, this strainer Warm smoky, probably too thin in the eyes of the cook, but who cares! There radicchio impregnated with oil for daring to grow citrus bitterness, blood orange, grapefruit, powdered bottarga ... eater wants more!
I noticed during the demonstrations "screen, as a witness": the screen freezes an image that will not happen again, because the kitchen lives, because it is movement, because it is time. This is also what gives it its fragile and at the same time, all his strength. And at the same time, I remember this sentence Andrea Petrini "heads would they all become Proust? "As if without a past, without roots, without their infancy, these taste-makers had more material to create ...
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Probably not kitchen-we ever fully to this, no doubt there Has it always involves the ingredients from memory. It is absurd to even see. Not inevitably a nostalgic memory, but memory control, the sensitive track. And without doubt, the spirit of the cook never lets himself be carried by both the gesture and the intuitive moment when loaded from the past and elsewhere.
But you're right, the kitchen needs witnesses, in words and pictures, although the taste, himself, will never allow themselves to reduce them. We can not fix the emotion of taste test and that's good. Because the kitchen is to say "I'm alive," is love, and love in a test tube, I do not know.
These taste-makers who distort and transform their lives and their travels through time and space in a few moments of grace, and rare are those we graze the sublime. And we thank them enough.
I leave you, I have a cake to be monitored.
