Casual Heroing

“So, now, we are going to make the détrempe,” I pronounce the word, trying to make the right accent.

“The what?” my two bakers go at the same time.

“Détrempe. It’s another language. From that filthy place I mentioned before. Even their language sounds filthy, doesn’t it?”

“So,” I go on, “we have yeast, flour, butter, milk, water and, obviously, lots of sugar.”

I point to the massive dough I’m making in the pot.

I take out the thing with my bare hands and start rolling it.

It’s heavy. I’m going to make hundreds of what I’m going to make.

“You don’t bother the dough too much, remember. You have to let it breathe a little and you want to be as gentle as possible. As soon as the ingredients are incorporated in uniformly, you stop. I know that you have lots of questions, but I’ll answer everything at the end, ok?”

I keep kneading the dough, focused and immersed in the process. After a few minutes, I leave it be and put it back in the pot. The mass is so big I’m not sure my work was perfect, but a couple of times the mixer had broken in my bakery, and I had to do everything by hand.

“Good. Now, we wait a few hours for the dough to proof—to rise. After that, we will roll it into a very long sheet over the whole table and use a massive sheet of cooled butter. We will wrap the butter in the dough and slowly fold it to create a laminate effect in the final product.”

“Once that’s done, we are through. Every other step is a cherry on top. We’ll make a cream for the filling and now we can start making some jam too. I need a piping bag, or as the French call it, a poche à douille.”

The most interesting thing about the name is how Italian chefs call it a ‘sac à poche’, which is not Italian, and the French call it a ‘poche à douille’. Why is that? Well, google it. I have no idea. One thing is for sure, I prefer the French or Italian variant to ‘piping bag’. When you use a ‘piping bag’ it seems like you are going plumbing or something, not baking.

I guess there’s a reason why France and Italy are such important places, food-wise. They both believe they are the best even though the French have a more developed Michelin-star-history than the Italians.

Having lived in both places for a little while, I’ll try to explain the main difference, culinary-wise.

French people have insane restaurants. There’s no denying that. If you go to France and you manage to book a truly high-end restaurant, you will be mind-blown. I mean, that is if you actually know something about food. High-end restaurants are not a pleasurable experience if you are just hungry.

But, if you want to learn about experimental dishes and have a whole new experience about it, that’s the place. Nowhere else in the world do they do what they do with food in those French restaurants. I have to give it to those baguette-eaters, they are good, and their chefs are, to use their expression, la crème de la crème.

So, if I had to judge from a purely Michelin-star standard, the French are probably kicking everyone’s ass so bad it’s unreal. It’s also true that the Michelin guide is actually French; that’s the argument of many Italian chefs I have talked with, too.

Now, onto Italy.

First of all, they have some insane maître-chocolatier schools. That is, in plain terms, people messing with chocolate. Why do they make so much chocolate? I have no idea. But you can find some damn good chocolate in Italy. Even better than Belgian, French or Swiss. You have to know where to look, though.

Well, but Italy is not about chocolate. That’s just a casual remark of mine, don’t pay too much attention to it.

If you want to understand why food is so important in Italy, you don’t go to restaurants. Restaurants are sort of an exception. You go to eat at someone’s place. That’s where the – pardon my French – shit happens.

Being from the US, people loved to invite me over for dinner or lunch in order to showcase their mom’s cuisine. And to be honest? To hell with French Michelin-star chefs. I did gain almost twenty pounds while in Italy, but, man, I ate like a king.

Italians have a history of simple food. They don’t go after delicacies or complex dishes. In fact, many people from the East will tell you that Italian cuisine is almost bland. That’s obviously an asinine comment about the country, but I forgive people for their lack of culinary culture.

Some of the most famous Italian recipes, above all, the ‘Cacio and Pepe’, which translates to ‘Cheese and Pepper’, is literally a pasta dish made with cheese and pepper. How can that be good, huh? Well, it’s in the process and the ingredients. Italians don’t cook recipes, they perform.

I spoke to quite a few Italian chefs, and most have confessed to stealing at least a recipe or two from their mothers or aunts. It’s all about enhancing the incredibly fresh ingredients they already own.

So, if French people make complex and laborious dishes, the Italians go for the simple stuff. If you are not a food expert, you might prefer Italy – that is, if you can barge in someone’s house and make them cook for you. Thank God for my Italian heritage.

If you want to discover new frontiers of cuisine, go to France, though. Those little bastards have so many tricks up their sleeve it’s insane.