Bon Appétit
As I recalled, Chef Louise is... How would you say, a bit queer. A genius, bit queer. Chef Louise is a pioneer in French cuisine where Louise (mind the informality) is considered the Napoleon of the French culinary. Other than his 5-foot stature and his fat belly, his self proclaimed Emperor of the French culinary Napoleon like attitude made him a standout in France; other than being an Italian.
I’m quite curious on why has Chef Louise has taken a decade of hiatus from the culinary world and to where is his secret location as I flew off to Europe in one of his private jets (cheap economic aeroplane bought for a cheap price). His enthusiastic French in his Italian accent was a sight for sore eyes (or rather ears) as he cheerfully called me two weeks ago. “Thomas!” he cried out on the other side of the phone, asking me how would I like to taste a new rare breed of meat that will bring forth a French revolution in the culinary. I accepted his offer in keen of his evaporation and two find out what he was doing for the past 10 years. He went ABBA and said ‘Mamma Mia!’ promising a course that I will never forget.
As a food critic, you don’t make much friends or fans by pointing out your own thought. Especially if it is mean, harsh and merciless. Even on my facebook page or my twitter, not many people are keen to keep up to date with the Lucifer of the culinary world. I blame culinary Satanism. There are not many followers in this cult.
I met Chef Louise during a grand festival in Paris, celebrating the New Year. He was hobbling and darting here and there, making ends meet, finishing off many of his signature dishes for the public. Although many criticised on how he treats his ingredients while making them, his dishes were celebrated and was naturally an icon of French cuisine.
It took me time to realise that I have landed on to my rendezvous as I was dazed in Memory Lane as the flight attendant took her time to shake me off out of my daydream. Europe that day sported a dull and plain weather with steely grey clouds covering the skies and a monotonous pitter-patter of rain cascading the barren land. Apparently I had landed on to a deserted island sporting a ghost town feel in it and the plane had landed at the town hall. I watch glumly at a distance the plane flying off, deserting me.
As I tried familiarising or at least making more sense to where I am, Nico, the chef’s dumb Jamaican driver patted me at the shoulder showing the way to Chef Louise’s Maybach. At least he still has lots of cash. As we drove on passing the town, an eerie feeling went to my spine as if Lady Death had been here. The aura was not comforting naturally and I wondered how Chef Louise’s mind could become more delusional as it was before.
At the end of the road, a handsome mansion stood magnificently surrounded by gargoyles of fearsome manner. At least he hasn’t lost his touch on house designing. The man is quite a Dexter, knowing many things but sticking to just cook food. As I walked out of the limo, a sudden howl filled the air. As I tried searching for the source of the sound, a familiar sound was heard. “Thomas! My friend!! So good to see you”. Likewise, I answered as he went grabbing my shoulder inviting me in into his château.
After several dialogues and exchange of gifts, he offered me some of his own wine that he grew himself. Presumably, the vineyard in Milan as it tasted of Italian summer. He must have realise my odd sense of concern (not to mention the chills) as he offered me to rest for awhile to shake off the ‘jetlag’ as he prepared the dishes.
I did as I was told and rested in one of his guest room. The rest was great as it re-energises me back from my fatigue body although it didn’t quite shake off the jetlag. The aura of uncertain doom still lingers on even though the place accentuates majestic comfort. It was as if God had sent me a warning of great uncertain doom. One of his Hispanic maids knocked on the door, telling me that dinner is served. As she guided me into the dining hall, the air was filled with French herbs and an unknown aroma, intriguing me to find out was this mystery meat.
Chef Louise invited me to have a seat and a glass of wine and invited me to eat. Bon appétit he said. All of the dishes he served are all made with red meat. Even the dessert was red meat. Glazed with caramel like sauce wrapped in filo pastry, a famed signature dish usually used with Italian sausage.
I tasted the meat. It was quite a light taste and oddly it worked out with many of the cooking techniques. Wine reduction, sauté, poached etc. It was a 10 dish course but it didn’t felt like it. It satisfied my pellet but it did not bloat me with its indulgent flavour.
Chef Louise appeared amused and triumphed over my appreciation towards his dishes. Chef Louis said Ah-Ha! I have finally slain you Lucifer, atheist who took pride on humiliating other chefs with your taste buds from Hell! His fangs bearing out, a new feature of the mad Italian. Would you like to know the secret? An offer I wished I had declined.
