Remembering Jean-Claude Vrinat
Jean-Claude Vrinat, who died from lung cancer on Monday at the age of 71, was France’s greatest restaurateur, and his passing marks the end of a particular form of hospitality. Vrinat was the star attraction at his venerated Paris restaurant, Taillevent, but he was not its chef. Instead, he presided over the dining room and left the cooking to someone else (a very talented someone else, of course). In the era of globe-spanning celebrity chefs, this allocation of labor and limelight was nothing short of antediluvian. But having a chef tethered to the kitchen and a revered owner in the front of the house had its advantages: Taillevent commanded a loyalty like no other high-end restaurant in France, and Vrinat’s death has prompted an outpouring of grief, not just for the man but for the breed of restaurateur he represented.
“Vrinat was an urbane, supremely elegant host; as he approached your table, you reflexively sat up and adjusted your tie. But there was nothing intimidating about him—he was a man of great charm and had a terrific sense of humor. He was also preternaturally unflappable. Vrinat once told me about the time that Salvador Dalí, a frequent guest, arrived for lunch accompanied by an ocelot on a leash. When Vrinat asked why he had brought the cat, Dalí explained that it was his birthday and he wanted to celebrate with someone. Fortunately, the meal passed without incident, but as Dalí was settling up, Vrinat gently conveyed his disapproval: “Perhaps next time it would be best if your friend didn’t come; I had the sense he didn’t especially enjoy himself.” Dalí took the hint, and the ocelot never returned.”
Leave a Reply