Another Great Chef from The Bear
Thomas Keller opened The French Laundry 30 years ago: a look back at the beginning. Vintage menus from a forgotten Keller restaurant. A really useful recipe idea. And the pans he prefers.
A couple weeks ago Thomas Keller celebrated the thirtieth anniversary of The French Laundry and it killed me that family circumstances kept me from attending. Nobody throws a better party, and from everything I’ve read, this one was spectacular.
(If you want to read about the super-sumptuous affair Keller threw for Per Se’s twentieth this winter, I wrote about it here. It’s at the very bottom of the post.)
I’ve been a Keller fan from the beginning. Rakel was great and I loved his Los Angeles restaurant, Checkers (see below). After one meal at The French Laundry I sat down and wrote a rather ecstatic piece about it for the New York Times; you can read that here. And one of the first articles I commissioned for Gourmet was a profile of the chef written by his longtime collaborator, Michael Ruhlman.
I was stunned when the piece came in. There’s a moment when the chef - who had no formal training - decides that if he’s going to cook meat he should kill it himself, and he asks his purveyor to bring him live rabbits. The scene is gruesome, so raw I lost sleep over it, convinced that older readers would be so appalled they’d cancel their subscriptions in droves. (That didn’t happen.) It’s an intimate and very telling look at the chef but Conde Nast has, sadly, deleted that article from gourmet.com. What they’ve left is this lovely little piece about the chef’s obsession with plates.
Few chefs are as obsessive as Keller; this perfectionist stores his fish on ice in the same position in which they swim to avoid stressing them. He’s rigorous, but also so imaginative that he thinks about food in utterly original ways. Who else would plunk oysters into tapioca pudding and call it “oysters and pearls”? Little wonder that the writers of The Bear chose to feature him in this year’s final episode.
For a little taste of his restaurants, here’s a memory from 2015.
"Where should we meet for a drink near Columbus Circle?" we asked each other, ticking off the possibilities. We thought about Porter House, Stone Rose, Jean Georges. We considered going up to Lincoln or Bar Boulud. But it was just a drink, and so in the end we opted for Per Se. After all, the price of a glass of wine doesn't vary all that much from place to place.
It was early, and the entire salon was filled with the late afternoon light. The sedate room was hushed, and I relaxed into a pillow-strewn sofa. The wine, served in almost weightless glasses, was cool and crisp. I was instantly happy to be in this calm oasis. And that was before they brought out hot, tiny gougeres that evaporated in the mouth like so much cheese-scented air, or that beautiful sorbet of marcona almonds above, in its elegant pluot wrap.
The flavors were so seductive we each ordered a little something more. Why not?
Out came a beautiful mousse of foie gras, surrounded by cherries in a pistachio scented gastrique. That green tuile on top? A crisp little bite of matcha, Japanese green tea. The silken mousse arrived with a sextet of salts and little puffs of warm brioche. Sheer luxury.
My companion chose these gorgeous ricotta anolini, strewn with a spring pea custard. Such a delicate dish.
After that, there was no stopping us. We were riding the excess express, eating great dollops of caviar perched on exquisite pillows of pommes soufflees and crowned with tiny chive blossoms…..
....and this remarkably intense truffle custard, nestled into an egg shell.
This is sumptuous indulgence on a very grand scale. You wouldn't want to get accustomed to eating like this, but every once in a while it's wonderful to be reminded that, somewhere in the world, people are living the luxe life. It's nice to know you can join them if you're so inclined, for a short, sparkling interlude.
To me it was like going to a spa: the effects of this little sojourn have buoyed my spirits all week.
Before there was The French Laundry there was Checkers in Los Angeles. It is little remembered today, but I loved the place, felt that LA was lucky to have such an exciting new restaurant, and was devastated when it closed. You can read my review here.
I recently dug up some 1991 menus from Checkers. One interesting note: see how much more adventurous Keller allowed himself to be with brunch. Duck hash; chorizo gravy; peanut butter waffles. (The bottom menu is lunch.)
Thomas Keller has designed a line of commercial stainless steel cookware to his own exacting standards. If you’re looking for new cookware, it’s on serious sale at the moment.
One thing I really like about the Thomas Keller Insignia Line: two universal lids fit all the pots, so you don’t end up with a drawerful of messy, irritating lids
Made Thomas Keller's brine from the Ad Hoc Cookbook yesterday for my farm chickens. It's got a LOT of whole lemons in it, which makes it different from any brine I've ever used. I was extremely happy with the result; the meat was not only moist and very tender, but it had the sweetest scent.
3 pound chicken, cut into 10 pieces
5 lemons, halved
6 bay leaves
½ bunch (115 grams) flat-leaf parsley
½ bunch (30 grams) thyme
85 grams clover honey
1 head garlic, halved through the equator
14 grams black peppercorns
1 cup (10 ounces) kosher salt
1 gallon water
Mix the brine ingredients into the water and bring it to a boil. Once boiling, remove from heat and let cool; then pour into a container large enough to hold the brine and the chicken. Put it into the refrigerator until chilled.
Place the chicken parts into the cold brine and let it sit for 12 hours. Do not brine for more than that or the chicken will become too salty.
You just can't write enough prose for praise about Keller! Bravo!
Ruth, You know better. Keller bought the French Laundry from Sally & Don Schmitt. It was already a highly respected restaurant in Yountville. Keller lifted it to another level. Check the utube story on Sally Schmitt: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5d1Cclk5QA