mardi 29 avril 2008


So for the third year running El Bulli has won the obsequious prize of the 'Best restaurant in the World'. The Fat Duck & Gagnaire being yet again runners up.
It's amazing how gastronomy has  managed to force itself into the world of bling bling and gliteratti... 
Restaurants being more and more the place to be seen at. It's the 'pseudo intellectual bubble'.  A few decades ago, it was art collecting, as Picasso's and Pllock's were harder to come by, and therfore more expensive, and therefore a sublte way to vomit your ostentatious personality. Now it's the BIG restaurants. El Bulli being the most exclusive, as he closes for 6 months, and has to refuse dozens of thousands (yes thousands) of demands...
I mean it's easy, how the fuck can you compare restaurants ?
What makes the food you taste at El Bulli better than your secret little eatery that you discovered on a street corner ? What is the the criteria of making one restaurant edge another to take the master spot ? How can something as personnal as eating/tasting be but into competition ? One can compare, yes, feelings, impressions, but not evaluate them. 
After all nobody has ever dared say that Guernica is better than the Mona Lisa, that is better than the sunflowers...
How is it possible to compare a deconstructed raviloi to a delicate green curry or to a simply grilled fish, or even a boiled farm egg, and to say that one dish will have 10 points because it involves several different way of cooking using steam, pressure, heat, cold, and another dish gets just one point because just about everybody, just about everywhere can stick an egg in  boiling water for a few minutes ?
Yes I've been to El Bulli. Yes, i was baffled, and yes i thought it was the most amazing experience my palet would ever live. Yes, we talked about it. Yes people talk to you as though you have been to Mars. Yes, the picture above was taken there, and it represents a light parmesan raviloli that when it comes in contact with the warm basil froth/bouillon, expands like a baloon. And yes, it tastes good. And yes, simple spag al dente, with a dash of pure olive oil, a squeeze of garlic, a load of shredded basil, some ground pepper, tastes just as good.

Have a laugh 

mardi 22 avril 2008

my new best friend

my new favorite poison si Saké.
the more i drink it the more i love it.
i prefer it warm than cold or even chilled which is how i tasted it last night.

when it's warm, it's so smoothe
you can feel it stroke your throat so gently
it's subtle tastes and different flavours come to life as it glides across your palet.
i have to drink more to get more acquainted with what it has to offer.

the rituals are worth getting into...
when i'lll know more, i'll the you,
but for now the philistine that i am will humbly take pleasure
in drinking and tasting as much of this nectar as it is possible

at ZEN, last night, they had this oversized expresso machine that automatically warms the saké
i want one too

vendredi 18 avril 2008

simple is best

Quite honestly, 
is there anything simpler and better than an egg?
from a simple boiled egg to a vanilla flan, or fresh pasta, 
eggs can be used so diversly.
ma favourite is probrably a soft boiled egg
with a generous quantity of coarsely ground BLACK pepper 
accompanied by salted buttered mouillettes.
another favourite is creamy and buttery scrambled eggs
into which you have added a few dops of light soya sauce.
having said that, scambled eggs with jelapeno peppers
have suddenly popped into mind, 
and memories of breakfast in Oaxaca under a blazing sun 
after a night out with Mascaline dance in my head...
a soft boiled egg would certainly feature in my top ten meals.

'nuff said 
right ?

mardi 15 avril 2008

Two extremes

... so here we are for the first post.
My lunch today was at KFC. I hadn't been in a long time, and before even getting a bite out of the bits of chicken, i was reliving a true Afgan madeleine.
My last KFC rout was about 20 years ago, and i was very excited to get back into the box...

Well fuck me dead, they're no more red and white stripped boxes, the KFC trademark.
The chicken is still as good as ever, and the fries still tastetless. 
The problem is all the bits that existed all that time ago, and that made the meal a real KFC meal, have gone ; the boxes, the gravy (it was so good), the coleslaw... 
but then, 4 pieces of chicken, some fries and a drink for 8 euros is a good deal, which is more than what i can say for KAISEKI,  a very fashionable restaurant. 
KASEIKI is a pure product of the Parisian bobo hype. It looks like a cantine, the chef is there cooking for you, what he cooks is devine in taste and in looks, everybody looks happy happy to see you, serve you, and rob you of a fucking fortune. 3 courses, a 'farandole' of deserts, a couple of glasses of wine for 125 fucking euros a head. The problem is not to cough up so much money, but the fact that there is the choice of [only] 2 menus : the 'normal' one and the infamous OMAKASE, (sorry but i can't be bothered in explaining). 
So, basically, 2 menus, that have a difference of 50 euros between them, and by the looks of the 'normal' one, the OMAKASE can only be mind blowing. Well the two menus turned out to be two twin brothers, one of which, like all twin brotherships was a bit bigger... just a bit... so 'just a bit', in fact that we couldn't really tell the difference between them, a part from 50 fucking euros... 
... mind blowing indeed.