Sometimes I feel just like a gerbil, running around and around on his wheel! Everyone around me thinks my preoccupation with the perfect creme brulée is nonsense. But it's not when your livelihood depends on it. Being a great chef with numerous cookbooks and accolades under your apron is not easy. The critics never care what you've done in the past. Earning three stars in the Michelin guide isn't enough if you can't hold onto them. Competition is ruthless. Today, Madagascar vanilla is the rage; tomorrow, it could be Georgia peaches. It is an endless endeavor: a love/hate relationship with cuisine. The minute one becomes insensitive to the criticism, to the culinary race, is the minute your restaurant seats fewer customers.
Pe
ople tell me it is a vain endeavor, a meaningless carousel, my quest for the perfect creme bruleé but they are fools. They cannot understand the dedication that goes into the creation of a masterpiece. You only get the first bite to make your impression. And it must be the perfect blend -- reaching the tongue with all the right flavors in all the right places. It matters not whether the dessert is eaten but whether it is savored. The moment that occurs in that one bite - that is what critics write about, that is what makes the reputation of a great chef. The pursuit of the perfect bite is never in vain.