A Bistro of One's Own

"The early part of my life was spent in the gastronomic wilderness of postwar England, when delicacies of the table were in extremely short supply. I suppose I must have possessed taste buds in my youth, but they were left undisturbed." – Peter Mayle, from French Lessons







To go from a cooking instructor and house husband to an owner of very small yet enchanting bistro is such a zig zagged road that I sometimes wonder whether I can retell it truthfully – almost as though parts of the story someone else has made up and kindly inserted into my real life without me knowing so that when I consider it myself I pick it up and examine it something like a stranger's scarf found in your closet. There is one moment, however, that I remember as well as I could any other. I was standing on the second level of a Barnes and Noble Bookstore at the sheik outdoor mall The Grove in Los Angeles looking through the food writing section, picking through some of the usual suspects that show up on the shelves with beautiful hardcover books and I realized that, within a year, I would open my own place come hell or high water. Now, these fellows with their own signature books and signature charm, they nearly all had gone through the long paces of chef's storyline: maybe skip high school, walk into the best restaurant you can when you are, say, 16, offer your services as bar back, perhaps become a sous chef at 19, then head into culinary school, experience behind you, and off you are into the restaurant biz, long nights, hard parties, and incomparable experience. Ten years later a book of your best craft made into a stately book with your very own face on it. Guys like me opening them up wondering if someday I could do it too, but without all the experience? Well it worked.