When I was a boy, I wanted to be an astronomer. I must have missed a beat in my prayers; some half-deaf biggie up there turned me, officially last Monday, into a gastronomer. What a gas.
Well, you can also say “gastronome” or “gastronomist.” The English language tries hard to accommodate everything French, since that culture takes precedence, especially when it comes to culinary excellence: read the feasting table.
Why, even the matter of spit-roasting had been raised to the level of science as early as the 13th century. C’est incroyable!
In 1248, King Louis IX established the Guild of Goose Roasters, which generically became the Chaine des Rotisseurs and flourished for over 500 years until pheasant-hungry peasants stormed the Bastille so they could eat cake and make heads roll. All guilds were abolished in the name of Liberté, Fraternité, Egalité! It wasn’t until 1950 that the Chaine was re-founded in Paris.
And now, after 60 years, the worldwide organization called Confrerie de la Chaine des Rotisseurs — which unites both professional caterers and amateur gastronomes who enjoy good food in general and that cooked on the turning spit and silver grill, in particular — enjoys a membership of 30,000 “foodies” in 123 countries organized into National and Regional Balliages.
Here, we have a Balliage de Manille and a Balliage de Cebu, from where our national head honcho comes — Michel J. Lhuillier, Bailli Délégue National and Membre, Conseil Magistral. His spouse Amparito Llamas-Lhuillier is Bailli de Cebu, meaning she heads that chapter. For Manila, it’s the dashing Federico S. Borromeo Jr., my friend since we worked together on a coffee-table book for the Rotary International or was it Makati or both.
My tocayo Freddie had invited me to attend a couple of dinners with the Chaine, and on both occasions he must have appreciated the manner in which I burped most discreetly, apart from expressing my admiration for the level of imagination and creativity that went behind the preparation of special menus, particularly those that were paired with excellent wines and/or more robust alcoholic drinks, such as single malt whisky.
Last Monday, March 14, new members were inducted into the Chaine. And my goodness, I happened to be one of these, together with my rock-‘n’-roll and broadcast buddy Harry Tambuatco, among several others.
Each one of us was called onstage, given a sash and medallion crafted in Paris, and made to hold a saber, with its point down on the floor, and then received not exactly whacks but taps on our shoulders with a sword blade, as conducted by Monsieur Lhuillier. Then the handshakes and congrats, the signatures executed on parchment sheets that now said we were Chevaliers of Chaine des Rotisseurs, Balliage des Philippines, as well as Membres Gourmet Desgustateur of the Ordre Mondial des Gourmet Degustateurs. The latter, I believe, has to do with liking spirits of the glasses as much as calories found on plates.
This ceremony was not the only highlight of the long evening that was billed as “Tryst with Madame Ning” and held mainly in the Rigodon Ballroom of the Manila Peninsula Hotel.
It all started with cocktails at Salon de Ning, that ode to decadence that wonderfully mystifies and mythifies the concocted character of a Ms. Ning of Shanghai who becomes a Madame and celebrates her fabled status with thematic collections — such as of shoes and boxing paraphernalia — displayed with art deco panache in nearly horror vacui resplendence.
If Salon de Ning may be said to be quite over the top, its ambience certainly helped prepare us for what was to follow — the assembly, induction rites, and formal dinner at Rigodon Ballroom.
Now, I’m quite familiar with the trappings of enjoyment in that venue, which I traditionally associate with the Palanca Nights held on the First of September, when our best writers are honored with prizes bestowed by the Palanca Foundation by way of judgment from their own peers. I know exactly where to go for a smoking break: that glass door on a corner which one can slide open for egress into an elongated patio and garden.
But on this night, the ballroom was made up exactly as Madame Ning would have wanted it, even with some of her pairs of shoes on display, as well as masques crowning the exquisite floral arrangements that bedecked two long tables seating about a hundred members and guests.
The glass doors on one side were not visible anymore, since they were concealed by velvet drapes, as was the opposite wall with wooden doors that led to a corridor and the CRs. Sheen-y swathes of white cloth embellished the ceiling, and even the chandeliers were all dressed up with somewhere to go — maybe hog heaven when one looked up from plate after plate of a memorable menu that could only underscore how elegant and fabulous was the evening.
Indeed, it was a tryst with all things bright and beautiful and delectable and sensuous.
The first elegant plate had terrine of foie gras wrapped in prosciutto, fig-apple compote and cassis coulis, paired with a particularly excellent Max Ferd Richter Wehlener Sonnenhur Riesling Kabinett 2007. Ahh.
A large screen that served as the stage backdrop flashed images of a culinary narrative that brought everyone from, say, Brandenburg, Germany to Peshawar, India, as introduction to the next course, titled “Kundan, Lal Gujral / Graf Von Zeppelin” and composed of tandoori prawn and scallop with pickled vegetables and raita, washed down with Max Ferd Richter Mulheiner Sonnenlay Zeppelinlabel 2008.
An intermezzo of lychee and raspberry sorbet followed, the plating so aesthetically pleasing. Then the “August Escoffier” that harked to Monte Carlo, France — beef tenderloin, pumpkin risotto, asparagus and cepes sauce — with yet another glass poured by the kitchen attendants who marched in dramatically with each new plate, this time from freshly uncorked bottles of Louis Legin Santenay ler Cru La Comme Rouge 2005.
The next course evoked Milan, Italy, with parfait of gorgonzola and mascarpone cheese plus raisins, garden greens and toasted brioche, the paired wine the sweet bubbly G.D. Vajra Moscato D’Asti 2008.
A tribute to Baron Ferdinand von Richthofen and “The Silk Road” followed, with exotic spice-roasted pineapple and peppered mango sorbet, paired with Salon de Ning Champagne Rose Brut.
Coffee or tea came with “Assorted Mignardise” — so brightly pastel-colored one wanted to preserve them as sala decor.
Ah, yes, Lucullus himself would have saluted the feast — its conception and execution, thanks to Pen GM Jonathan Crook, Maire de Table Dean Seo, chef Freddy Schmidt and chef Sebastian Cocquery, together with Chaine members led by wine expert Jay Labrador.
We did salute the entire company of the kitchen who all streamed in at the end of the dinner, including the servers, noting how they even outnumbered the diners, so exquisitely had the entire evening been planned, directed and superbly executed.
As an international society, the Chaine des Rotisseurs is said to be dedicated to the promotion of the culinary and hospitality arts and enology (the art of making wine) through example, education and camaraderie.
I was delighted, and sated, to be in such company, as the evening was indeed rife with comradeship, conviviality and splendid conversation (especially with the Lietz couple who sat next to my elegant, fabulous consort — on everything from antiquities to books Filipiniana to the enchantment of the Palawan cherry tree). To my left was seated Celine Borja, architect to the Lhuillliers for several projects in Cebu. I was utterly charmed by and learned much from her, too.
The evening ended the way it began with that aura of mystery at Salon de Ning, matching the sensory captivation by intrigue and seduction. Armanac and calvados capped the night, back at the salon, where Venetian masks became gifts that preceded the ultimate blessing that is passion — for the good life and the great love, in the sweetest possible company.