Liebrandt Paul - To the Bone

Copyright 2013 by Crumpet LLC
Photographs copyright 2013 by Evan Sung
Photograph on by Evan Sung features a photograph taken by Jacques Gavard and is used courtesy of Pierre Gagnaire.

All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Clarkson Potter/Publishers, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Liebrandt, Paul, 1976
To the bone/Paul Liebrandt and Andrew Friedman.First edition.
pages cm
1. Liebrandt, Paul, 19762. CooksUnited StatesBiography.3. CooksGreat BritainBiography.4. Corton (Restaurant)I. Friedman, Andrew, 1967II. Title.
TX149.L48A3 2013
641.5092dc23
[B]
2013007785

ISBN 978-0-7704-3416-8
eISBN 978-0-7704-3417-5

Book design by Stephanie Huntwork
Jacket photography by Evan Sung

v3.1

I dedicate this book to my father, who set me on the road that I am on. Never has there been a wiser word said to me by any man other than you.

A lthough he has Royale of Hare, is in part inspired by this.) Similarly, I remember well being made to trudge round a West London market on Sundays with my gran, with only the promise of an ice cream at the end of it all to keep me going. Ever since, ice cream has been a special enthusiasm of mine. Such formative influences have a great impact on your creative life.

Paul and I took very different routes up the ladder of our profession. Im a self-taught chef, whereas he undertook apprenticeships at various establishmentsLEscargot, Marco Pierre Whites legendary The Restaurant, Pied Terre, Le Manoir aux QuatSaisons, Pierre Gagnaire, Bouleyall of which he memorably describes here. Hes good on the crazy nature of restaurant life: the dodgy dorms, drinking binges, sleep deprivation, camaraderie, and quirky personalities, and the infernal heat in poorly ventilated kitchens that had him periodically tipping an entire bottle of water over himself. Hes thoughtful and eloquent on the downsides of culinary life that can make it hard to take: the repetitive drudgery, the pressure of proving yourself day after day, the isolation. Reading these pages, youll get a good sense of what its like to be in the kitchen, the highs and the lows.

Although we cut our teeth in different ways, when Paul came to eat at The Fat Duck, I quickly recognized a kindred spiritsomeone who, culinarily speaking, speaks my language. For me, good food is ultimately about emotion. Of course, you have to practice, develop, and perfect the necessary techniques (as youll see, Paul learned how to devein foie gras the hard way), otherwise there are likely to be limits to what you can achieve creatively. But eating is a multisensory experience, and a large part of the deliciousness of food comes from its appeal to the five senses: taste, smell, sight, touchin terms of our appreciation of different texturesand even sound. (Youd be amazed at how much of our detection of the freshness of, say, an apple, comes from what we hear as we crunch into it.) And this appeal in turn triggers all kinds of memories and associations that can enormously enhance the perception of flavor.

This is something that Paul understands. Early on in his apprenticeship, he says, he realized that in cooking there was a simple animal attraction to the tasks that appealed to my senses. Its this sensual appreciation that gives his cuisine a strength of character. Thus his dish of his black-as-night costume. Purity and clean linesits a pretty good description of his style of cooking.

Its this approach that leads to the kind of dishes included in this book: Cod Cheek with Smoked Bone Marrow and Black Trumpet; Beet-Hibiscus-Glazed Foie Gras with Trevise; Black Sesame Crme with Purple Potato Ice Cream and Cashew Pastethese are beautiful, precise, well-thought-out plates of food. But from the way Paul talks about his cooking, you can also understand the emotion that has gone into themhow his The Bagel and the skyscraper shape of his Gold Bar dessert both reflect his excitement on first arriving in New York as a twenty-three-year-old looking for work. If youve ever wondered where the heck a modern chef gets his inspiration from, these pages will give you some idea of how it works. Youll get privileged access to one of the most innovative, skillful, and idiosyncratic chefs in America.

Paul calls this bookwhich is part-memoir, part-cookbooka literary tasting menu. Its time to dig in and enjoy.

HESTON BLUMENTHAL

F rom the time I was old enough to make decisions about such things, my life has been defined by The Food.

I write it that way because thats how I think of it: as the object of an existential quest, to be pursued at the expense of just about anything else. In the name of The Food, at one time or another, Ive worked for nothing in faraway lands where I didnt speak the language, lived in meager and unsanitary quarters, commuted to and from work at times and in places that would make any mother fear for her sons safety, and slept on a banquette or the floor in my own restaurant for days on end.

Why would I, or anyone, voluntarily do such things? It might be difficult for those not blessed and burdened by such attachments to understand, but at some level, cooking is an art that relies on the marriage of craft and inspiration. Craft is the easy part: anybody armed with the requisite aptitude and discipline can master the technical part of cooking, though it might take years. Inspiration, on the other hand, is like a demanding lover who flits in and out of your life as she pleases, insisting that you be available for her arrival and ready to act on a moments notice, lest the opportunity pass you by.

Then, of course, theres the cruel joke perpetrated on chefs by the cosmos. Its not enough to have one perfect idea; it must be realized dozens of times each day, at great expense, with most of the work carried out by people who dont have the benefit of living in your head. There are no Emily Dickinsons in the cooking trade, no chefs who toil anonymously and independently in their family attics, leaving their work to future generations to discover and appreciate. On a daily basis, chefs need a well-equipped place in which to work, cooks to prepare our food, and guests to pay for the privilege of eating it. If youve ever wondered why so many chefs are known to terrorize their staffs, or behave like alcoholics after a night on the line, or burn out and fade away at tragically young ages, much of the answer can be found in the pressures created by that unholy trinity.

Does all of that sound unhealthy? It can be. But in my experience, the highs justify the lows. I discovered The Food as a painfully shy, unhappy boy, and it gave shape and meaning to my life. Hailing from a single-parent household, it offered me an alternate home in which to pass my days and nights. Without a specific ambition, it provided something to strive for; as a child never given to words, it gifted me with a vocabulary of flavors, colors, and textures with which to address and engage the world.