SHEDS, HIVES AND A SMOKING CAULDRON - 17 May 2011
17th May, 2011
I was standing in my writing shed – I can’t bear to sit at the desk right now, as if to do so would allow me to fall into the illusion of paradise. Joel has been in his studio all afternoon working on his retrospective tomes for Phaidon and we are both missing being in the process of making the Provence book. We’re missing Provence. Missing being out in the world, roaming around, seeing what there is to see and beyond.
I stand in my shed and remember the beautiful September day it was built. This tiny space, 6’x8’, has been, as Virginia Wolfe encouraged, a room of my own. Built from money I earned composing music for a commercial Joel shot for the Cape Cod Chamber of Commerce. This little chapel was erected the day after the twin towers fell and the two brothers who put it together along with Joel and I, cried as it went up. It seemed so meaningful, to be able to erect such a tiny, humble structure within 24 hours of two of the biggest, most grandiose buildings tumbling down.
Joel takes a break from his work to bring in a load of firewood. I tell him I miss working on this together. Me too, he says, as he builds the fire, the flames now gathering ferocity, their tongues licking the chimney. “Why don’t your write about our lunch last Wednesday,” he suggests, and I find myself balking. I’m afraid I’ll never be able to do it justice.
We had made a reservation immediately after returning from Provence, to take our publishers to lunch – an expression of thanks and gratitude for this commission. We’d managed to secure a table at 11 Madison Park, an extraordinary French restaurant near Union Square and we had all eagerly awaited the day.
As it turned out, it would be Day 1 of the dreaded hives and by the time I arrived at the restaurant I wasn’t sure if maybe I should really be in an Emergency Room as by now I was feeling dizzy, wired and short of breath.
I think it bespeaks of the quality of the cuisine that while wondering if you are dying of toxic shock you can, nonetheless, eat every last morsel of 3 courses, plus accept an invite to the kitchen for a one-of-a-kind treat especially prepared for we four, who, for some reason – our sheer stunning physicality I’m sure – had convinced the highly trained staff that we should be that day’s chosen ones.
Every once in a rare while, if one is fortunate, there is a restaurant that makes dining out worthwhile. For really, we would much prefer to eat at home or in someone else’s home, with simple, healthy food and the embrace of intimacy. For us there is nothing more luxurious than sitting at table for hours, uninterrupted by staff, talking and laughing with those we love. It’s always worth doing the dishes for.
This restaurant was a 360 degree experience. The room itself was magnificent, with perfect acoustics – again, something few restaurants get right. To not have to listen to someone else’s choice of music, to not have to yell to be heard is a big gold star for us.
Then there was the staff. No faceless individuals, they all had the ability to disappear until the necessary moments they were needed at table. And witty, too. Smart, well-trained, and witty.
As I said, I was struggling with the hive situation, so my memory of that lunch is sporadic, slightly psychedelic, in that when I look back on it now, I see bright flashes of astonishing food and I can see Michael and Barbara leaning toward us in eager anticipation of the news from Provence. The menu itself was unique comprising of a card perhaps 7” square with 4 food symbols across and 4 down, each line being a course from which you chose one symbol around which the course would be imaginatively designed so that you had no idea what was going to arrive, yet all possibility of anxiety was removed by the wait person asking each of us if there were any foods or seasonings we don’t like. We each opted for 3 courses and I’ll let Joel’s photos do the talking.
Everything was beyond superb. I don’t remember a lot of what we talked about but I do remember feeling love and respect between the four of us and was moved – and still am – by Michael and Barbara’s faith in us. We all feel the rich possibilities and the many directions that this book holds and are confident that together we will jiggle and hone the work into something we can all be proud of and more importantly, into something of value to our readers.
Sandra Di Capua, Head Maitre D'
So it was really no surprise that we were chosen by the staff to be that day’s guests in the kitchen. We were invited to stand at a high, pristine table set for 4 and watch while a young culinary artist concocted min-infused ice balls, brought into being as only a witch can do. . . in a smoking caldron.
