Baking Made Easy & Waitering made hard

Since I share a fondness for Michel Roux Jnr with fellow blogger ‘Working The Look’ (see her post here), I imagined I’d be regularly posting on the current series, Michel Roux’s Service. But actually, I find it almost almost unbearable to watch. It’s not a problem with the man himself. As WTL points out, there is something about his sternness, coupled with exacting standards and kindness, that is compelling and rather unexpectedly sexy. I love him in MasterChef. But in this series, the relationship with the young people he’s training is just too poignant. He’s not working with reasonably competent chefs, instead he’s got a group of fragile, troubled youth, and is trying to mould them into competent, capable, attentive waitstaff.

He may achieve it, and I’m not saying it’s not a valuable thing to attempt, but some of these people struggle to read a menu, let alone one in French. Many have never drunk wine, let alone opened a bottle using a corkscrew. They haven’t eaten in a restaurant before, let alone a ‘fine dining’ one. And as Roux himself says, there is not much of a culture or tradition of good service in Britain. Most of his own restaurant waitstaff are French or Italian, who have spent years learning their trade. But having said that, MR is a good teacher, and his sidekick Fred is utterly adorable. If they succeed with some of the contestants, which I fondly hope they do, I imagine it will transform their lives. Although possibly at the risk of alienating them from their peers.

Unlike a few other reviewers of this programme, I am interested in what makes a good waiter and I value those skills too. I’ve been a waitress, a terrible one admittedly, so I know how hard it is. And now, part of my job is reviewing restaurants, and my worst experiences by far have been when I feel ignored, forgotten or overlooked. And conversely, my favourite meal of all time (in Sienna since you ask) was hugely enhanced by the charming waiter. I care a lot less than Roux does about fancy tablecloths and the incredible degree of attentiveness you get in ‘fine dining’ establishments, but I do think we vastly underestimate the value of truly good service in this country.

Lustbox: Michel Roux Jnr

Woe, woe, misery and woe. The light has gone from my weekday evenings. And when Normal Masterchef returns with Gregg the Pudding Oinker, with it will come John Torode, all Australian and shouty rather than the pale and lovely Michel Roux. Very few people get Michel-as-lustbox. He is cadaverous, pale and wears truly terrible jackets. He looks like he needs a big sandwich made of Maman’s caramelised bananas. He has the gauntness of an etiolated marathon runner who never gets out during the daytime (which he is). Despite all, he is the King of Cooking Programme Lust.

Michel has is sternness combined with (occasionally) kindly mercy, extreme delicacy and exacting standards. This is very, very sexy indeed. One would need to try very hard not to be disappointing in any way whatsoever. The pressure to achieve the highest standards of taste and presentation would be immense. Swirl those nipple tassels unevenly and see his left eyebrow raise almost imperceptibly. Let your moustache go unbleached for a day too long and see a very small moue of disappointment. Serve the sushi from your bellybutton slightly too warm and Michel might sigh, deeply, painedly. But the joy, the pure joy, of making Michel smile…oooh! Oui Chef!

Posted by Working the Look