Three waiters appeared, each expertly wiping, garnishing and finishing a
different plate, squeezing drops of chive oil, lobster oil or thirty-year-old
balsamic from eye-dropper-sized squeeze bottles. No one was cursing or
sweating. The stove-tops, cutting boards, counter space, cook's whites,
even the aprons were spotless—at eight-thirty on a Friday night! Each
sauce and salad, each item was tasted by the person preparing it, each
and every time. Three orders of veal cheek special came up at the same
time; they were absolutely identical.
At Les Halles, I go through a 10-pound bag of shallots every day, so it
was truly jarring to see Scott Bryan's mise-en-place. The shallots on
station were not chopped. They weren't Robot-Couped either. They were
brunoised—every tiny little piece uniform, textbook, perfectly squared
off and near sub-atomic in dimensions. The chopped chives were the
same, not a thread, not a single errant or irregular shred, every one the
size of a cloned single-celled organism.
The whole kitchen smelled of truffles. Two thumb-sized knobs of the
wildly expensive fungus sat by the garnish tray, where Scott would shave
them onto outgoing orders. Truffle oil was being poured into pans like I
use olive oil. Sauces were being mounted with foie gras and Normandy
butter. And everything—everything—was being made to order. Risotto?
Out of the box and into the pot. From scratch.
A tiny young woman worked at a corner station, and I made the
immediate Neanderthal assumption as I first took in the crew: "Extern,
maybe from Peter Kump or French Culinary, having a learning
experience dishing out veggies." I passed right over her as I swept my
eyes down the line looking for the heavy hitters. In time I began,
peripherally, to become aware of her movements. I looked again, closer
this time, and saw that she was plating fish, cooking risotto, emulsifying
sauces, taking on three, then four, then five orders at a time—all the
while never changing expression or showing any visible signs of
frustration or exasperation (as I would have under similar