The food writer and restaurant critic Craig Claiborne, who died on January 22nd, aged 79, played a key role in raising food to its status as the dominant art form of the late 20th century. Thanks to Craig Claiborne, "gourmet" entered the popular American vocabulary.
From 1957 to 1986, with a break from 1970 to 1974, he was the New York Times (NYT) food editor. Such posts had usually been held by women, who devoted their midweek pages to recipes for busy housewives. His appointment was unorthodox, even adventurous.
After graduating in journalism from Mississippi State College, and war-time naval service, he worked in public relations until moving to France in 1949. He resolved to become the NYT food editor, and after qualifying at the Ecole Hoteliere de la Societe Suisse des Hoteliers, in Lausanne, worked briefly at Gourmet magazine.
His kitchen experience hardly extended beyond his Swiss qualifications. When asked to include reviewing in his NYT responsibilities, he established a system for evaluating restaurants which entailed several anonymous visits with different companions, and detailed notes on cuisine, decor and service. The criteria were practical and essentially economic: how do the food and service compare with the cost of dining? His unemotive style gave his reviews an authority which, at the upper end of the restaurant market, soon included the power of life or death (which he did not apparently abuse).
Craig Claiborne's career began with an unapologetic preference for French haute cuisine.
The first New York restaurant to win his whole-hearted approval was Le Pavillon, a survivor of the 1939 world fair. After its move to Fifth Avenue, it became an exclusive club for Windsors, Hearsts, Fords, and titled Europeans. There he met the chef, Pierre Franey, and they formed an expert/salesman team, which established reputation and market value within a context of rampant snobbery.
In 1974 they wrote an NYT article outlining a dinner for eight, which, cooked at home, would cost $900. The sum was deliberately inflated with copious quantities of caviar and a wine list which included the most expensive vintages of Montrachet, RomaneeConti and Dom Perignon.
The pair reached the apotheosis of excess in 1975 at a $4,000 banquet for two at Chez Denis, Paris. This astronomical sum was achieved by ordering a profusion of courses, which, according to the proprietor, would easily have fed 10. As a publicity stunt, however, it was eminently successful, calling down the wrath of everyone up to and including the Pope.
It was in the area of domestic cuisine that the Claiborne-Franey partnership had its greatest impact. When confronted with the American food industry, Craig Claiborne's lofty standards nose-dived. Of the pre-cooked frozen foods then coming onto the market, he wrote, "1958 is loaded with promise - especially for cooks on the run. The past 12 months [have] initiated a trend that is sure to be developed more fully - the packaging of dishes with a so-called continental touch that can be heated and brought to the table within minutes - to the awe and delight of guests with educated palates."
Such lapses in taste would come to embrace even the Big Mac.
In gourmet guise, his enthusiasm for pseudo-foods surfaced regularly in his cookbooks (his many books include a 1982 autobiography, A Feast Made For Laughter).
The classic beurre blanc, for example, is assembled with meticulous care from shallots, white wine vinegar, seasoning and a pound of butter. He dispensed with both its difficulty and its delicacy by substituting six tablespoons of butter, a cup of heavy cream, an egg yolk, two tablespoons of lemon juice - and tabasco sauce.
With his assistance, the word "gourmet" would ultimately lose its character - and even its snob appeal. Inedible glop would be relabelled with the magic word, and sold for double the price. We are still eating the consequences.
John Whiting Craig Claiborne: born 1920; died January, 2000 99114998