Awarded three stars by Michelin, Taillevent is one of the finest restaurants in the world. Todhunter spent several months working in its kitchen in preparation for the divine experience of eating a five-hour meal in the nineteenth-century dining room. From the amuse-bouche (a warm cheese puff to “amuse the mouth”) to the crowning glory of the fantasie , he perfectly captures the sensual pleasure of the meticulously served dinner. Along the way he expertly discusses everything from the state of French haute cuisine and the complexity of running a renowned restaurant to the chemistry of chocolate and the history of salt. A Meal Observed is a rare treat, a paean to the French and French cuisine that is as enchanting and richly satisfying as the meal it describes.
I just loved this book. I love food and I love cooking, and well, I'm also living in Paris. So it was the right time for me to read this one. However, that being said, so much of this book is not about Taillevent and Todhunter is a brilliant writer. Laugh out loud funny in all the right places. I enjoyed it so much more than I had thought I would and he has great human insight. I definitely recommend it!
Reading this book felt like being seated at a long dinner with a middle aged white man you don’t know and at first you’re like “this guy is pretty annoying and says some sexist stuff - I don’t think I’m going to have a good time” but then over many hours you have to listen to his little stories and jokes and by the end you’re like “wow I actually enjoyed this man’s company a lot and I’m going to miss him when it’s over”!
A Meal Observed succeeds. It succeeds in large part because the concept is brilliant - an entire book about a single meal. It also succeeds because Mr. Todhunter's prose is up to the challenge of such a high concept endeavor, requiring the need to frequently depart from the meal to explore a host of seemingly tangential concerns while somehow staying on course. However, just as a Chef of haute cuisine must walk a knife's edge between leaving the diner merely satiated and leaving them overly burdened, so must our author be careful not to leave us so overstuffed that we push our plate in front of us and ask our server to clear it with the meal unfinished. In this case, I was driven nearly to the edge of that boundary. Just as with many Pre Fixe meals, there seems be joy in reconnoitering the boundary, anticipating that you've had a bit too much, but then, just in time for the next course, feeling ready for more. To fall too far short of it would mean disappointment. But in this case, one more extended metaphor, one more psychological exploration of the mundane, or one more polysyllabic obscurity (piscivorous comes to mind) and I might have skipped desert. Gladly, that line was never crossed. By the middle of the book, strangely I recall page 104, in the midst of a discussion of wine, I lost my skepticism, surrendered to the experience, and was hooked.
Ultimately it succeeds because it is, in part, a meditation on the strangeness of it all. It is strange to consume in 5 minutes that which took several people the better part of a day to prepare. It is strange to spend 12 hours a day preparing exquisite meals for others, but having done so, to have no interest in preparing such a meal for oneself. It is strange, finally, to spend a few hours reading about a single meal. It seems indulgent. Certainly not everyone would enjoy a meal like the one described in this book, and perhaps only those that would enjoy it would read such a book. Towards the end of the meal, Todhunter reflects on the fact that some of his acquaintances, the ones that he most admires, admirable in their modest ways and their pleasure in the simple things, would probably never indulge themselves in this way. At this point in the meal he is content, but full to a degree approaching discomfort. More than a few readers, I speculate, pondered their own excesses at this point in their read. Much like other tastes that I find difficult to evangelize, like books about books, I guess the appeal of a three-four hour meal is something that some will never understand. To those that have tasted that appeal, or to those who wish to try to understand them, spending a three or four hours at Mr Todhunter's table might be a worthy and enjoyable distraction.
I cringed when I read that the author was an American in Paris "interning" at Taillevent (the book's featured restaurant): "Swell, a dilettante yuppie (yawn)." Not so ... aside from mentions of Martha's Vineyard (Menemsha) in passing a couple of times, he goes out of his way to stress that he's not from an upper class background. I would've liked a bit more on how he came to intern there; without that background, it does seem rather a "whim". Still, not a deal-breaker in terms of my taking the book seriously.
The book is structured in a dozen or so courses, like acts in a play, from the arrival to the departure experience, which works well to pivot the "action". For those expecting a 200-page restaurant review ... not exactly. There is a (necessary) element of that during the food/wine selection processes, with a core focus on the experience itself. There is some memoir mooshed in (as they say in the ice cream trade), that I found interesting, and helpful in terms of the author's expectations. There are also interviews with (commentaries on) the various kitchen persona, which also work well - until the last one.
The meal peaks with the main course, followed by a short (12 page) piece on the cheese course, which is fine - we're winding down ... but not quite. The dessert chapter that follows runs nearly 50 pages, much of that an interview with the pastry chef: on too long, talk too long (as they said in vaudeville). At that point, it's a story only hardcore bakers could love. Anyone who hasn't read the book - if you read it thinking "This is kinda dense, but I'll keep at it in case I miss something." - you won't, head directly to "Le Depart". The editor should've realized that section suffers from weight imbalance; the chef stuff could've easily been halved. My other quibble would be that even as a person who's been known to read books in French, I could've used translations for the menu selections, rather than an unexplained French list; an appendix would've worked beautifully for that!
That having been said, I'm really glad I read it. If you think this might be a book for you, it probably is.
a fun read for francophiles or if you've eaten at Taillevant, or if you like to eat in a really, really good restaurant once in a while or once in a ife-time. Easy to pick up/put down because of the fun layout.
A great read for Francophiles and foodies, the book is both about and similar to a long evening in a fine French restaurant, with meandering conversation about food, one's past, the nature of cooking, and the history of the restaurant and its staff, as plate after plate of superb food is served over the course of four hours. The food itself is given less attention than its preparation and the staff who prepares it, and provides a glimpse of the dedication necessary to preserve the three Michelin stars the restaurant (Taillevant) has earned in it's half-century life. The conversations with the Taillevant staff are engaging discussions into the nature of restaurant cooking, how it is changing, how it differs from home cooking, and the observations are not of the meal but based on the authors "internship" in the kitchen. If you speak only a little French this is a great opportunity to learn a few more phrases while vicariously indulging in the meal of a lifetime.
Andrew and his wife embark on a fine-dining experience at the classic French restaurant, Taillevent. The book encapsulates one meal in 1999, but includes interviews and back-stories of the kitchen and restaurant staff, as well as anecdotes from the authors own life.
I love the format of the book, covering every detail of one dinner. It is interesting to read this 20 years after it was written and realize the drastic changes in the world of food, kitchens and fine-dining.
Sometimes the detail was overwhelming but it was a tribute to the men (and with the exception of one lone intern they were all men) of Taillevent. The precision is breathtaking. Having eaten there once I now realize how special the experience was. I wonder if the book is as magical for those who haven’t been so fortunate.
A delightful book. It certainly wanted to make you go out to a nice restaurant or commit to cooking finer meals in your own kitchen. I think the chapter about dessert could have been rather shorter, but that’s my only complaint. A wonderful read.
Interesting in moments but lacks consistency. Found the interviews with the chefs to be the most interesting and some of the tangents are insane. Feels a bit dated and out of touch given our current culture around food and how accessible some of these ideas are today.
I loved this book from its rambling quirkiness to its often insightful prose, it is a fascinating glimpse into a life of a restaurant and its chef. The author spent several months working in the kitchen of the three Michelin star Paris restaurant, Taillevant. His tenure at the restaurant culminated with a five hour meal shared with his wife, in the 19th century dining room--a meal meticulously prepared and served-just like this book. The writing is a clever juxtaposition of the meal, the back of the house, history, and the love of food.
I've noticed in the last year or so that the books I enjoy, remember and recommend the most have tended to be about how things are made or how they work, though generally not in the form of an instruction manual. The authors tend to be interested amateurs rather than seasoned professionals, though there are exceptions to that rule. Some of the most enjoyable have included Michael Pollan's A Place of My Own, Tracy Kidder's House, and David Owens' Sheetrock and Shellac. In the same vein, though about food and cooking rather than homebuilding, Andrew Todhunter's A Meal Observed is a great read. The author builds the story of his apprenticeship at a three-star Michelin restaurant named Taillevent in Paris, along with numerous informative digressions and tangents, around the meal that he and his wife share at the restaurant. Full of intriguing interviews with restaurant staff, opinions from experts on French cuisine, and anecdotes from Todhunter's own life, it's a conversationally written and highly readable little book. Highly recommended.
Dreaming of dining at a Michelin three-star restaurant in Paris? Foodies will devour this delicious book, which recounts an entire meal at Taillevent. Between the amuse bouche and the fantasie, the author riffs on his favorite cheese shops in Paris, the history of salt, and the kitchen politics behind the scenes in a renowned restaurant. Yummy armchair dining at it's best! Desperate to taste a morsel? Pastry chef, Gilles Bajolle's, Marquise au Chocolat et a la Pistache recipe is thoughtfully provided. Bon appetit!
Here's an interesting idea for a book: Go to an exclusive French restaurant, indulge in a long and pricey meal, and then write about it. That's it. That's this book. It is a course by course description of a single meal. Todhunter tells about the food and the service and the restaurant and the chefs and wanders around here and there into all sorts of fascinating tangentially related topics. A fun quick read.
Todhunter is not as arrogant as he may first come off as. Read on to get to know him a little better. Todhunter's descriptions of food, and the intricate dance humans have choreographed around the aromatic and flavorful symphony which is food, is often breathtaking and memorable.
If you have ever wondered what it would be like to have dinner at a top rated Michelin restaurant in Paris, how much it could cost, and what makes it "a night to remember", this is the book for you. It is a great treat!
This is a great book. If you love food, you should read it, if you love cooking, you should read it, if you love chocolate, you should read it, if you love France, you should read it.