Over last weekend, I did something I didn't think I'd ever do. I went on like, this mini road trip with one of teachers to see a documentary.Excuse me?
Yeah, I know.
The film was called "Kings of Pastry," and it was so indie, that we had to drive all the way to freaking Sarasota or Seminole or whatever to see it. I think we drove through a wormhole or I'm a moron, because I still can't remember where the hell it was. Most likely the latter, don't get excited. The movie detailed the trips of 3 different french pastry chefs, attempting to show the president of france that they were the best in their field. It was all told in beautifully detailed french subtitles. Don't worry, I felt like I missed half the humour that way, too. But besides me being american, the movie was totally great.
The M.O.F. was what this documentary was all about, and I know that most students my age don't really care for that kind of film, but what the heck, I'm addicted to National Geographic and Indepent Film Channel, so I'm not the majority of the demographic. Meullier Ouvrier de France. It is, apparently, "a unique award in France according to category of trades in a contest between professionals." Of course, I didn't think of metalwork, or architecture or art, I thought of cooking. And the most similar culinary skill to all of these would be the rarely lauded Pastry field.
Things that stood out to me? The fact that the winner, (spoiler) well one of them anyway, was the only person who pretty much bulldozed his sugar centerpiece. I almost cried, this guy's piece was so beautiful, definitely me favorite, and seeing it swept into the garbage was akin to seeing the sistine chapel covered in grafitti. Well, maybe not that bad, but pretty heartwrenching. Something else that stood out? When the president awarded the highly esteemed collars, red, white, blue, and full of promise, he had tears in his eyes, and he kept choking up. What was up with that? If Obama cried at the inaugural address, I don't think we'd hear the end of it. But here's Sarkozy, dripping snot probably because a few people didn't get what they aimed for.
Weird? Not really. See, I thought about it afterwards.
Before I saw this movie, I don't think I'd ever really seen a grown man cry, and sure, there was a lot of other things that went into this particular production I saw besides emotion, but did anything stand out as well? What really makes somebody an admirable chef? I met a few chefs lately, and you know what the richest and most popular chef made me think? What a loser. What a show off, and what a totally jank way of making money. Because he was taking something that people in France were practically killing themselves over, which is something along the lines of glory, recognition and pride, and bastardizing it for the sake of television. Nice guy.
Digression through.
Back to the movie and my subject.
Sarkozy cried, not because he was french and automatically a girl, no. Sarkozy and all the judges got so damn upset because cooking matters to them. It's not reality TV, it's not the latest blog or best entrepreneurial step to take in this economy. It's something they all care about, and when their peers and countrymen are inadequate after spending hundreds of thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours and spending family time elswhere, it's felt, right there.It really made me think about wanting to be in the culinary field. Am I even good enough after seeing these guys? What makes me different from chain restaraunt line cooks or foodies who spend all their money on the next big thing? What makes me worthy while I sit here writing a stinking blog about the fundamentals of heart and authenticity of something inherently rustic?
Whatever, I'm probably not, but that's what is going to make me try harder I guess. See more movies, maybe take notes next time.
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