
If you get HBO, try to catch A Matter of Taste, a winning little film about the New York restaurant scene that is available both on demand and as part of HBO’s summer schedule.
Ten years in the making, it follows the roller-coaster career of Paul Liebrandt, from head chef at an ambitious and well-reviewed restaurant, to serving burgers and fries at a neighbourhood eatery, to being fired by Gilt during an attempted comeback, and finally to opening Corton, one of New York’s hottest restaurants.
As interesting as Liebrandt is, what holds the film together is its portrayal of power. Here, the key characters are the restaurant financier Drew Nieporent, who picks Liebrandt up from the pavement, and New York Times Food Critic Frank Bruni, whose lukewarm review of Gilt probably resulted in Liebrandt’s dismissal, and whose review of Corton would make or break the restaurant.
If Liebrandt’s career has been a roller-coaster ride, it is because his food is controversial. Clearly possessed of a good deal of imagination, there have been reservations over the years about his judgment and taste. In the film, Thomas Keller and Eric Ripert, chef-owners of two of New York’s finest restaurants, are at best equivocal. As Ripert puts it, “Yes, I’ve eaten his food. I have no comment.” It may not have helped that Liebrandt was playing with the concepts and techniques of molecular gastronomy, which is perhaps part of the reason why Jonathan Gold, the recipient of a Pulitzer Prize for Distinguished Criticism, called his food “the result of a failed science experiment.”
Perhaps Liebrandt has matured, perhaps Nieporent exerted influence, perhaps critics have become more open to culinary experiment - whatever the reason, Chef Liebrandt now has two Michelin stars, and is bucking for the third.
This is not some potted Food Network “reality” show. It is an honest, nicely observed work of documentary cinema, for which New Zealand filmmaker Sally Rowe, and the film’s editor, Amy Foote, deserve congratulations and an hour of one’s time.

Something that Newfoundlanders have in common with the French is a passion for dessert. We’ll make one every class, and chocolate will often be an ingredient. It’s fun to work with, once one learns a few tricks, and a crowd pleaser. So much can be done with it. Maybe we’ll make chocolates filled with caramel, maybe a mousse, maybe a cake with layers of hazelnut dacquoise, crispy white chocolate, dark chocolate mousse and chocolate glaze.
I went on a chocolate expedition today, and came home with 80 pounds worth to bring up to Trouty. We’ll be using four chocolates made by Valrhona, a company that takes its name from its location in the small town of Tain-Hermitage in the Rhone Valley. The three dark chocolates are “couverture”, which means that they contain a very high percentage of cocao butter:
Caraïbe (66% cocao butter), a blend of Trinitario beans from the Caribbean that has hints of dried fruit.
Extra Bitter (61%), which is a blend of Criollo and Forastero, with a strong character set against a bitter background.
Guanaja (70%), a blend of subtle Criollos and fragrant Trinitarios and Forestaros. It is bitter, but also has warm notes.
We’ll also use a white chocolate called Ivoire (35%) that is very lightly sweetened and has delicate flavors of milk and vanilla.
By the way, that is a cocao tree with seed pods, which started as small flowers, growing from its trunk. The Chocolate Society concisely explains the differences between Criolla, Forastero and Trinitario beans, and London’s Kew Gardens has a good discussion about the tree and its history. If you get to Kew, it has a cacao tree in the Princess of Wales Conservatory.

We’ll spend the first 20 minutes of each class getting to know one-another and planning the day, so today I went to McNulty’s in Greenwich Village to buy tea and coffee. McNulty’s is not only a charming shop, where much of the 1890s design and furnishings have been preserved, it is one of the best places in New York to buy tea leaves and coffee beans. Indeed, Zagat’s 2011/12 Food Lover’s Guide rates it the best in the city.
I explained to owner David Wong that I wanted variety for the Kitchen Session classes, and I think we made a pretty good selection:
Teas:
Golden Assam, a Black tea from Northeastern India.
Tieguanyin, also known as Iron Goddess of Mercy, an Oolong tea from China.
Three blended teas (apricot, blackberry and mango) for iced tea. The best way to make iced tea with these is to let the tea cool slowly in a refrigerator for four to five hours.
Coffees:
I went with David’s recommendation of an organic coffee from the island of Sumatra, which he describes as “rich and bold, yet low in acidity. Good cup of brew to get your day started right!”
McNulty’s also has a new organic coffee from New Guinea, a peaberry of medium weight, that I chose because the staff were enthusiastic about it and it peaked my curiosity.
For something a bit stronger, I chose French Roast Java Mountain Supreme, which is McNulty’s most popular dark roast. As Wing, one of David’s colleagues puts it, “It’s strong and smooth.”
Succumbing to the allure of Kona, I also purchased some Royal Hawaiian, a blend of Kona and French Mexican.
For iced coffee, we’ll use a method invented in New Orleans, where instead of steeping the grounds in hot water and then refrigerating, the grounds are steeped in cold water for at least six hours. This makes wonderfully smooth iced coffee with no bitterness.
David, who ships to Canada, will be providing interesting teas and coffees through the summer.
I was having lunch with a friend at Maison Prunier, one of Paris’s most storied and loved restaurants, when the Maître d’ asked whether I’d like to meet the chef. I jumped at the chance, and returned to my table, a good 40 minutes later, with a smile. My friend asked: “What was that about?”, to which I replied “Chef Biscay just offered me a job.” And so began my apprenticeship with Gabriel Biscay, one of France’s most influential chefs, and a demanding, but wonderful, teacher. About Biscay, I feel the same as Yannick Alléno, chef at Le Meurice: “I have been very lucky. I’ve met extraordinary people. Gabriel Biscay was the first to give me a chance, he opened the doors for me.”