Joachim David - Eating Italy: a chefs culinary adventure

GAIA

CONTENTS

In the spring of 2005, my business partner, Jeff Benjamin, and I were at CaMarcanda, the Gaja-owned vineyard in Tuscany. In between cellar tours and tasting, I was on the phone with Jeff Michaud. At that time, he was the chef at The Bedford Village Inn in New Hampshire. Jeff Michaud and I had been talking about opening a restaurant together in Philadelphia since he returned to the States from his three-year journey in Italy. We had three previous phone calls about it, but they all ended with me saying, I dont think its going to happen. We just couldnt strike a deal with the developer. (Coincidentally, CaMarcanda means the house of endless negotiations.)

This last phone call, however, ended differently. Its a done deal! I exclaimed. Get yer ass back to Philly!

I could hear Jeffs eagerness through the phone. Although, when I think about it, I dont know who was more excited: him or me.

Some people just inspire you to do better. Perhaps its the work ethic they possess. Or maybe its the endless questions they ask until every possible scenario has been exhausted and they finally understand exactly what is going on. People like that make you strive for perfection, never accepting mediocrity. Why do something thats just good enough when you can make it great with only a little more effort? I always look for that kind of determination in cooks, and its what initially drew me to Jeff Michaud.

We first met in 1998 at the Food & Wine Classic culinary festival in Aspen, Colorado. This was just a few weeks before I signed the lease for Vetri, my first restaurant. At the time, Jeff was working at Aspens Caribou Club under chef Miles Angelo, a good friend with whom I had worked in the early 90s.

Hes you, Miles said to me, only 10 years ago.

At the time, I really didnt think much of the comment, but it stayed with me.

Miles called me a few years later, saying Remember that kid, Jeff? Well, I cant teach him anything else, and he needs to get out of here. He needs to learn something newyou have to take him.

I was in the process of looking for a cook, so I had Jeff come out and work at Vetri for a couple days. I didnt realize it then, but it was as if my own son had come to work at the restaurant. He set the tone in the first month.

Do you know how to make bread? he asked eagerly.

Yes, I replied.

Then why dont you make it?

Theres just not enough time or room in the restaurant, Jeff.

Why? I dont understand. I think we can do it. Will you please show me? he implored.

Have you ever seen a child badger a parent to the point of exhaustion? Jeff pushed me until I relented. I agreed to make bread. We made a beautiful rustic loaf with a natural starter that we let ferment and grow for two weeks, feeding it three to four times a day. It was like our little pet. The bread turned out perfect. Soon after serving that first loaf, we stopped ordering bread. We have made our own bread at Vetri ever since.

And so it began. My life for the next two and a half years was packed with exploratory trips to markets and farms and early-morning lessons on curing sausage and making pasta. At a certain point, I even let him work the pasta station. Theres a first for everything! You name itif Jeff wanted to learn it, he asked and asked and asked until he got his way. It reached the point where he only had to ask once, and I would give him a fatherly, Whatever you want, knowing full well the torture I would go through if I said no. The funny thing is, without realizing it, I got as much out of his education as he did. Jeffs passion is infectious, and those torturous yeses eventually turned to anticipation. I looked forward to the next challenge we could tackle together. Sometimes we all need a push in the right direction, and Jeff was pushing with all of his might. Vetri was livelier and more exciting than ever. To this day, those ambitious ideals have not changed. The restaurant has been a platform of learning for everyone who has worked there, and in large part, we have Jeff Michaud to thank.

In 2001, I took Jeff on his first visit to Italy. He was 23, and we went to Vin Italy, the wine fair in Verona. That trip changed his life. The entire time his eyes were as big as beach balls looking at everything around him... the food, art, culture, and yes, the women. That trip began the great love affair with Italian food and culture that he continues to this day. Jeff always knew that cooking was what he wanted to do, but now he knew for certain that Italy was the place in which he wanted to do it. Shortly after we returned, Jeff made plans to move to Italy.

Through the years we kept in touch from afar. I visited him during my research trips, and it was clear that he had gone native and was fully immersed, soaking up everything he could. I wasnt the least bit surprised. You get out of life what you put into it. Its such a simple adage, but its the very modothe mannerin which Jeff lives his life.

In early 2007, we opened Osteria in Philadelphia with Jeff at the helm. Another person, given the same opportunities that Jeff had would not have achieved the same level of success. But Jeff excelled in Italy and at Osteria because he puts absolutely everything he has into absolutely everything he does. Its all in, all of the time.

Thats why Im so excited about Eating Italy. This book is a true, complete journal of Jeffs travels, experiences and adventures in Italy. Reading it makes you feel as if you are right there with him... discovering, tasting, and cooking. A dish always tastes better when you hear the story behind it. From Venice to Florence and Piedmont to Lombardia, Jeff leaves no stone unturned when sharing the moments that led to all of these beautiful recipes.