The world's top chefs – or at least a good quorum of them – convened in Tokyo this past weekend for the 2012 Tokyo Taste / Basque Culinary Institute's G9 meeting.
The event had nothing like the scale or buzz that accompanied the first Tokyo Taste, back in 2009. In large part that's because the Tokyo Dome City Hall – right next to the Korakuen amusement park with its rollercoaster and other trivial pursuits – has none of the atmosphere and architectural gravitas of the International Forum in Yurakucho.
Nonetheless, it was still very good to see some of the major movers and shakers of the gastronomic firmament back in town, describing their work, their visions for the future, and the impact of their visit to Japan, which also incuded a trip to Miyagi and the areas devastated by the Great East Japan quake and tsunami.
Circumstances (and deadlines) conspired, and I missed almost all of the proceedings. But I did catch the final G9 presentations today (Monday). Here are some images and impressions.
First the participants were introduced to the (predominently) Japanese audience by Yukio Hattori (head of the Hattori Culinary school and regular presence on Japanese TV)…
Then Ferran Adria held forth as chairman of the G9 meeting, describing the context and raison d'etre of the Basque Culinary Institute, the history and development of contemporary cuisine, his own evolution and philosophy, and the main deliberations and the outcomes of this confab…
He was followed by Alex Atala (chef of DOM, in Sao Paulo, Brazil)…
then Gaston Acurio (Astrid y Gastón, Lima, Peru)…
and Massimo Bottura (Osteria Francescana, Modena, Italy), who gave a powerful and poetic speech about their visit to Tohoku…
Dan Barber (Blue Hill, New York, USA) gave a great presentation about his favourite cookbook (The Power of Duck, by Takao Furano) [sorry no adequate photo for him]…
Followed by Joan Roca (El Celler de Can Roca, Girona, Catalonia, Spain), who introduced several of his creations…
Next was Prof. Harold McGee, the noted writer on the science of food and cooking, who expressed his appreciation for being able to visit the city where one of the major breakthroughs in gastronomy was made – the discovery of umami, around a century ago.
Unfortunately I didn't have time to stay for the last speaker, Sven Elverfeld (Aqua, Wolfsburg, Germany) – nor for the final wrap-up.
However, there's a very good round-up of the sessions by Gabe Ulla on the Eater web site here…
Thanks to everyone! And, to close, here is a very rough and ready vid of the conclusion of Massimo Bottura's presentation.
As I said, poetic and powerful.
As promised, more on the Normandie/Bretagne étape of the Joel Robuchon Tour de France Gourmand (now on at the Robuchon bakeries and stores in Tokyo/Yokohama)...
Alongside all the primo patisseries, they are selling a select line of foods from those two regions. Such as this range of canned sardines...
There's also some great Camembert (as you'd expect). But what caught my eye was the artisan butter. It's called Brut de Baratte and it's made by Jean-Yves Bordier, a brilliant butter specialist in the ancient port city of Saint Malo (Brittany).
There are two varieties. The one that caught my eye was the one with the label that says "…aux algues" — with seaweed. This demanded to be tried.
Open the wrapper and you find the soft, light-yellow butter studded with flecks of red, black and dark green. It doesn't say what kind of seaweed it is, but I'm guessing the red one is dulse, and the green is a species of laver (nori) which has been cultivated off the coast of Brittany for a couple of decades now.
According to the Bordier web site, he developed this butter together with one of Robuchon's top chefs, Eric Lecerf.
It doesn't taste of seaweed as such, but there is a wonderful light mineral-saltiness that goes beautifully with the smooth creaminess of the butter. Obviously you wouldn't want to slather strawberry jam all over it. But with a nice slice of good bread...
It's not hard to find good bread in Tokyo these days (the situation was very different a couple of decades ago). But leave it to Joel to make some of the very best.
This is one of our year-round favourites. It's simply called the miche (which I understand to be a traditional French term meaning simply a 'plump loaf').
Forget the baguettes and batards. This is the real French bread (as far as I'm concerned) — and as close as we in Tokyo are ever likely to get to a classic Poilane, the yardstick by which all bread (of whatever nationality) should be measured.
More about Bordier butter here on France Magazine... and on Movable Feast.
The photos at the top (of the sardines and butter on the shelf) were taken in the Boutique de Joel Robuchon in Marunouchi Brick Square.
This is a situation we'd never have to deal with in Tokyo. http://nyti.ms/bClKoq
Food writer and restaurant reviewer for the Japan Times contact: foodfile (at) me (dot) com
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