Of chefs, celebrity, business, lust and vampires

Covering the most upmarket event at the South Beach Food & Wine Festival was not my usual beat. In fact, the only time I covered a festival anything before was going to the kitchen where the chefs were prepping for a major event at a too-hot-for-you SoBe hotel. It was great being there with the cooks, who were all enthusiastic about their food and even offered samples to anyone who cared to taste. I guess I like it better on the working-stiff side of the fence, probably an old New Left knee-jerk response, who knows?

At the Jean-Georges Vongericheten tribute dinner, I ate pretty well, I confess, plus I recall meals at two of his restaurants with fondness. Vong, in particular, knocked me out. Not just the food -- fusion with Southeast Asian traditions was just beginning and lemongrass was not yet available at your neighborhood supermarket -- but the service, which was incredible. No sooner had I thought of something I might want that a restaurant staff member was there with it. I suspected Jean-Georges might have learned some black magic in his Asian forays. Or that some terrible punishment was inflicted on any staff that performed at anything but Jedi level. Worked for me.

Since then, however, celebrity chefs have become, like the Britneys and Paris, all too present, all too fabulous, all too celebrated. I had the good fortune of dining at Emeril in New Orleans when the chef was the new kid in town -- and what a town! It was grand. I never suspected there would be almost as many Emerils as Starbucks, nor that his 15 minutes would get stretched out by the Food Channel.

Except for a handful of true superstars -- mostly the ones who made a serious contribution to the art -- chefs have been little more than gifted domestics, hired by restaurant owners or -- as it still happens -- rich families. Kind of like butlers or valets, though come to think of it, there are celebrity valets now. It's a good democratic thing that someone can rise and rise by cooking. Bravo! But celebrity is a dangerous temptation and I wonder if a chef has to choose between being an artist and making a ton of money. I know some who unabadshedly choose the latter. And some who are obsessive about making great food and everything else is second place.

Celebrity makes some demands. One is visual. Celebs have to be foxes. In gastronomy that has only partially caught on. Due to the nature of the business, some celebrity chefs are tubby. But some, particularly the female, are alluring. They exploit it, that's for sure, offering more than their dishes to the camera. Nothing wrong with hot chicks. But it's the food, no?, that's what matters, or is it?

I can't exactly post how my appetites respond to such stimuli. But with some of these beauties it's not exactly their cuisine... oh, this is a blog in a family newspaper. Let's just remember and extrapolate the words of the divine Count, "I never drink... wine.''