Knives at Dawn

While the rest of you have been watching the Olympics on TV, I have been reading about what is essentially, the Olympics of cooking. The Bocuse d'Or is the most prestigious cooking competition in the world. Twenty-four countries compete for gold, silver, and bronze medals. Each country is represented by a team of two-a chef and an assistant. They have five hours to produce a meat platter and a fish platter. So, like Iron Chef, right? Well, yes in the sense that it's a timed competition, but this is like Iron Chef extreme. The contestants know their ingredients ahead of time and have months to invent their dishes and practice preparation. The food they are cooking is anything but ordinary. They are expected to produce very elaborate, intricate, precise, fancy-schmancy dishes. The U.S. has never won a medal at the Bocuse d'Or. The French have been big winners in the past, but Norway has become a big contender. Tim Hollingsworth, a chef at Thomas Keller's famous The French Laundry, led the U.S. team in the 2009 competition.

Andrew Friedman's Knives at Dawn: America's Quest for Culinary Glory at the Legendary Bocuse d'Or Competition is a mind-blowing account of the U.S. team's preparation for, and participation in, this competition. It really is quite an amazing story. Something I didn't realize about this type of cooking is the importance placed on presentation. Presentation is just as important as taste. Attention to intricate details, precision, and timing are a big part of the competition. Are all the arugula leaves exactly the same size? Are there exactly the same number of carrot shavings in each dish? Oy. The story gets a little bogged down in all the people involved, but when Friedman describes the actual cooking, the pace picks up. His ability to describe the details of the intricate dishes is impressive. The dishes will not be familiar to most readers, so his ability to create a picture in the reader's eye is what makes this story successful (and the pictures help too). Although he is a whiz at describing the physical aspects of the dishes, the descriptions of taste were lacking. Having never eaten scallop mousse or beef cheeks, this book didn't make me drool. I couldn't taste the food in my mouth. I can honestly say this is the first food book that didn't make me want to run right out and get this food. Except maybe the bacon chips. Mmmm.

One could argue that cooking at this level is just as rigorous as an athletic competition, so this book would be a good read not only for those interested in food, but those that are interested in sports competitions. The preparation, the practices, the training, the stories of the competitors, and the pulse-pounding account of the actual competition reminded me of David Halberstam's The Amateurs, which, although I care nothing for rowing, was a great read.