The kitchen has never been a more dangerous place to work, writes Róisín Ingle
Bernard Loiseau, the triple Michelin-starred French chef who took his own life this week, spent his career in pursuit of culinary perfection. That quest came to a tragic end at his home in Burgundy when the chef was discovered dead on Tuesday with a rifle by his side following the decision by the prestigious GaultMillau guide to cut his restaurant rating by two points.
According to friends, the 52-year-old chef was distraught when the 19/20 score given by the guide to his restaurant Cote d'Or was reduced to 17/20.
"I think GaultMillau killed him," said French restaurateur Paul Bocuse. "When you are leader of the pack and all of a sudden they cut you down, it's hard to understand."
Marco Pierre White, the English chef who achieved three stars and then gave up cooking, has been vocal this week about the tyranny of guides such as GaultMillau and Michelin that are thought to have contributed to the death of his friend.
"They promote people and then demote people each year to make the guides interesting," he said. "Everything you put on a plate, every plate you give to a customer is a little piece of your reputation on trial."
Discussing the pressures at the pinnacle of his profession, Kevin Thornton, owner-chef at Thornton's, the Michelin two-star eaterie in the Fitzwilliam Hotel in Dublin, says it is not merely the reputation of a chef that is served up on platters but the very soul of the cook.
"People talk about the prices in top restaurants but that is to ignore the energy and detail that goes into each plate, each dish is like a piece of art," he says. Thornton needs four or five hours to "come down" after a busy night in the restaurant, describing his role as that of a conductor in an orchestra.
"It is terribly sad that somebody great like Loiseau took his own life, the pressures are incredible at that level not just in the kitchen but financially too."
The career of the previous incumbent at the site of Thornton's, Conrad Gallagher of Peacock Alley, went into decline after financial difficulties brought about, among other factors, by the pressures of maintaining star status.
Derry Clarke, owner-chef at L'Ecrivain in Dublin, which was awarded its first Michelin star this year, says the expectations of peers and critics can create untold pressure.
"You are watching everything. Your staff. The customers outside. The accounts. The food critics. Working with a live product, so many thousands of things can go wrong and you have to learn to take it on the chin and move on," he says.
Clarke copes by spending time on his boat in Dún Laoghaire and just "getting away from the place".
Author of the Bridgestone restaurant guides John McKenna says he agrees with the notion that Michelin and other guides are advocating a bourgeois version of McDonald's, enforcing uniformity while eschewing originality.
"When people get their first star or rosette they get hooked on the concept and become hungry for more," he says. It is a double-edged sword, he maintains, "the getting of awards is great but losing is a tragedy.
"I am resistant to any concept of hierarchy in food," he adds. "If a person makes the best ham sandwich, that should be respected as much as the best truffled lobster. You don't need eight petit fours and waiters in penguin suits to prove your ability in the kitchen, and the freedom to be original and creative can only come when those kinds of restraints are removed."
Paul Rankin, the Belfast-based chef, knows what it is like to lose a star and regain creative freedom. His restaurant, Roscoff, was awarded a Michelin star in 1991, but the pressure eventually became intolerable.
"When I was doing it day in and day out I could tell it was killing me in a way," he says recalling the days when, with his wife Jeanne, he was not only running a Michelin starred-restaurant, but also making TV shows and writing books.
"My back was sore, sometimes you would feel yourself cracking up mentally, you end up snapping at staff and family and even your customers sometimes. You are going around in circles as the classic symbols of stress take their toll."
When he lost the star after eight years he was already planning a new direction with Cayenne, a less formal and more innovative dining experience than Roscoff.
"It is far worse to lose stars or ratings than never to have had them in the first place," he adds.
According to Patrick Guilbaud, of the eponymous two-star restaurant in Dublin's Merrion hotel, the race for the stars and the pressure to hold onto them can make some chefs lose sight of the real goal.
"We are there to serve our customers and please our customers. If you lose sight of this, your mind and your taste becomes compromised," he says. It was deeply sad, he continues, to see somebody with so much passion for his profession taking his own life. It is important to realise that "you are only as good as you are", no matter how hard you work.
"Not everyone can be a three-star chef," he adds. "But any chef who tells you they don't want three stars is lying."