France’s top chefs railed yesterday against the pressures of their job and the power of the critics after one of this food-obsessed country’s culinary giants committed suicide, apparently because of a bad review.
Bernard Loiseau, whose restaurant and inn La Côte d’Or in Saulieu, Burgundy, is one of the undisputed temples of Gallic haute cuisine, was found dead in his bedroom on Monday afternoon, his hunting rifle by his side.
A police postmortem has yet to determine the official cause of death, but friends and relatives of the 52-year-old superchef were in no doubt that he had shot himself. ”He tried to do too much,” said his wife, Dominique. ”He was worn out; he’d just had enough.”
Others were harsher. Loiseau, they pointed out, had managed to retain his priceless three stars in the Michelin Red Guide, but ended up losing a devastating two points in France’s rival foodie bible, GaultMillau, falling from 19/20 last year to 17/20 in the 2003 guide.
”Bravo, GaultMillau, you’ve won,” declared the legendary Lyon chef Paul Bocuse, 80. ”Your verdict has cost a man’s life. We cannot let ourselves be manipulated like this: I’ll give you a star, I’ll take one away; I’ll award you two points, I’ll deduct them. The profession will respond.”
Another tri-stellar restaurateur, Jacques Lameloise, said Loiseau had once told him that if he lost a star he would not hesitate to commit suicide. ”The critics play with us,” he said. ”They mark us up, they mark us down. I think that’s what made him crack.”
Amid public outcry and blanket media coverage of the tragedy, government ministers queued up to express their regrets, and the managing director of GaultMillau, Patrick Mayenobe, was forced on TV to say his publication could not be blamed for Loiseau’s death.
”It’s not one point or one star less that kills,” he said. ”This was a great chef who most certainly had other worries. In 2000, he said that if he went from 19 to 17 points he’d relish the challenge of returning to the peak.”
Loiseau, who once said he wanted to be to haute cuisine what Pele was to football, was a self-made man who trained with the celebrated Frère Troisgros at Roanne. He took over at La Côte d’Or in 1972, picking up his first Michelin star in 1977 and his second in 1981.
He bought the old coaching inn the following year, a year that also marked the presidential election triumph of one of his best-known regulars: François Mitterrand. His lightness of touch, perfectionism and endless quest for the most exceptional of ingredients earned him the ultimate accolade of three Michelin stars in 1991.
”Only the produce should speak,” Loiseau once said of his deliberately spare, low-fat cuisine. ”We live in a period invaded by synthetic products, when tomatoes no longer even taste of tomatoes when they should be pissing blood. It is up to us chefs to save the situation.”
The Côte d’Or became a luxury inn, a line of pre-cooked foods was launched, three restaurants — Tante Louise, Tante Marguerite and Tante Jeanne — were opened in Paris, and in 1998 he became the first chef in the world to obtain a stockmarket listing.
Marc Veyrat, who this year became the first man to be awarded 20/20 by GaultMillau, said chefs at this level were ”like fragile little boys, under pressure from all sides: from ourselves, to do better every time; from the public; and then, when we’ve reached the summit, from the guides and the critics, swords of Damocles hanging over our heads … because for us, where we are now, there’s only one way to go”. – Guardian Unlimited Â