Smile for the camera

I recently read an article by Frank Bruni titled You May Kiss the Chef's Napikin Ring. More than just a catchy title, it offers an interesting view on the (relatively) newfound glamour of being a chef.
Celebrity chefs are new creatures, in the scheme of things. By all counts I'm enrolled in a trade school. But I still hear about all of the "Ooh's and aah's" that fellow students have received from family and friends when they announce their choice of study. I feel kind of bad for the mechanics of the world.
That's not to say that it's an entirely bad thing. Who doesn't appreciate a little bit of recognition? I'm not going to chastise people for getting a kick out of my career plans. I like it when people ask my opinion on things, or try to glean a bit of advice. I'm all for it. I love cooking food, and I love talking food. I wasn't drawn to this because of some magical aura that seems to go along with it, but it does have a few perks.

That said, there is a darker side to the story.

Bruni writes about a number of restaurants that seem to be taking the power out of the diners' hands. An attitude of "This is our food, our restaurant, our night... so sit back and take what we give you" permeates the air. It shows up in a variety of ways, from one chef chosing to get rid of the 5 course tasting menu and only offer the 9 course menu (requiring a significant amount of time to sit through), to a restaurant deciding to place the view of the city on the cooks' side of the open kitchen and letting the guests simply watch the food being made.

I have mixed feelings on the issue. I'm of the opinion that, should a chef decide that the 9 course menu is the only way to truly get the full experience, then said chef should feel free to put only that menu as an option. Of course, seller beware. If someone doesn't have that much time, that much money, or whichever other of a number of reasons, that someone won't be coming to your restaurant. I've never been one to do elongated matched pairings, but if I went to the trouble of putting the whole thing together then I would be put off a bit if someone decided to only try half of what I had to offer.

On the issue of giving the best view to the cooks or, like in another case, having a strict two-hour limit on certain tables, I think people are getting their priorities mixed a bit. I love the idea of an open kitchen, and I'll watch Iron Chef with the rest of the crowd, but I enjoy a nice skyline view too. Taking something away simply for the reason of demanding the attention yourself seems a bit pompous to be honest. If the food is good, they will eat. If the making is entertaining, they will watch. To me, that is enough.

I'm afraid it goes deeper, though.

I like the Food Network. I think it's fun to see chef's as celebrities, those select (often simply lucky) few who have made it big. Some I really like, others not so much. Rachel Ray comes up all the time as one of those "love or hate" people. Would I call her a big culinary authority? Probably not. She's got no formal training, and was discovered doing small demos for some sort of grocery store. Now, can she cook? Obviously. Is she good at what she does? If she wasn't she wouldn't still be on TV. That, at least, I can respect. But at the same time I will jump up and down saying that what she does isn't indicative of the greater chefdom. These people, all of them, be they from the industry or not, are the lucky few. They are the exception to the rule.

I've heard that the freshman class here was asked "How many of you want to be on the Food Network". Just about everyone raised their hand.

Good luck with that.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it's not going to happen. One, maybe - and that's a big maybe - will get some level of recognition beyond simply being a good chef. If you're going into this industry to be famous, though, you're going into the wrong industry. Generally there's a lot of work, a lot of sweat, a lot of long days, and not a lot of individual recognition. One thing that tends to irk me is the idea of celebrity chefs opening a restaurant, hiring someone to actually be the chef, and no one giving them the credit. It's still Emeril's place (who, coincidentally, can actually on occasion be found cooking at his restaurants so I'm told - kudos to him). No one hopes to get a glance of the guy who peeled and cut all of those potatoes. They want to see the famous face.

Give credit where credit is due, that's all I'm saying. Emeril's a fine cook, a good entertainer, and is good at what he does. But everyone else working in his restaurants, those that actually make the restaurants work... they deserve some props themselves.

Is gaining a bit of a celebrity reputation bad? No, not at all. But you have to take all things (good and bad) in stride. Don't let it go to your head. Don't think that you're not still there to serve someone else, that at the end of the day you don't still rely on everyone else's choice to come eat at your place.