Rule Britannia FOOD & drink Annabel Trew meets our very own devil in the kitchen, Marco Pierre White
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“Do you have high standards?” This was the innocent, if rather unnecessary, question that a Radio Times journalist recently put to Marco Pierre White. What followed was something every writer dreads – the premature termination of the vital ingredient of your article: the interview itself. He walked out on her. Fearing the worst as I entered his sparkly Italian restaurant in Knightsbridge, I hoped that I would fare better. And then there he was: The man who allegedly made Gordon Ramsey cry, who has an autobiography packed with extreme outbursts, who is renowned for his bad temper. “Come on, Annabel”, I said to myself, “say something clever and whatever you do, don’t ask him about his standards. Or the affectionately-nicknamed ‘Big Sweary’. Or his ex-wives.” Marco Pierre White won three Michelin stars at the age of 33 (making him the secondyoungest to have done so in the world), but despite this noteworthy achievement, most know him as the bloke who trained Gordon Ramsey, or the guy on Hell’s Kitchen. Others remember the good old days of a prima donna who famously charged a guest £25 for a bowl of chips. In actual fact he is completely and maddeningly indecipherable. Firstly he is virtually impossible to follow, with a train of thought that verges on the Picasso-esque, jumping, leaping from the mundane (“Ketchup is a great sauce”) to the philosophical (“We’re all boring”) to the ridiculous (“I never swear, I’m never rude”). He also comes across as something of an oxymoron; previously shunning the stratosphere of TV celebrity chefs, he suddenly became one last year (although he assured me many times, “I’m not a celebrity chef, I’m an acclaimed chef”). Then there are the horror stories bandying about that paint him as a vicious monster. However, the
man sitting opposite me, though initially a little condescending, was actually very polite and wished me well as I left. So, what was the great man up to? Ascot, apparently. “Quintessentially British” and of course “posh”, using Marco’s words, he explained that Ascot is one of the greatest of our institutions because it includes “all quarters of society… My love affair with the races goes back to when I was a child. I spent a lot of time at York Races”, he mused. “I love horse racing, I’m privileged to be asked to do Ascot.” Certainly he has a long friendship with worldfamous jockey Frankie Dettori and the very restaurant I found myself in – Frankie’s – was conceived from this partnership. However, Ascot to Marco is more than just an opportunity to feed those who are lucky enough to find themselves at the Carriages Restaurant on Ladies Day; it is the springboard for his latest culinary campaign. With that signature glint in his eye, he leaned forward and said intensely “I’ve turned 360 degrees”. Yes, at points he has fallen into the bracket of those who associate haute cuisine with anything not conceived in this country, but now he seems to be on a one-man-mission to resurrect the love of our nation’s grub. “If I want French food I would go to France, if I want a great risotto I’ll go to Venice”, he adds with furious semaphore. “I love England and I don’t want to serve something that is posh but has nothing to do with this country. It’s ridiculous to serve foreign food at Ascot.” Great British food, I thought, shuddering at the idea of spotted dick, but apparently I’m wrong; who would have thought anyone could get so excited about kedgeree? In fact, at his Yew Tree Pub he serves all the British greats, from potted shrimp to sardines on toast, from roast pork belly to something wonderful called omelette Arnold Bennett. “The best beef in the world is from Scotland, my eggs come from around the corner. It’s all here”, he enthuses before taking an about-turn to snootiness in general: “I hate food snobs. There’s nothing wrong with HP or ketchup, I want Worcestershire sauce with my food.” “How very Delia Smith”, I thought, which makes sense, as he furiously defends her opinions on food. “Chefs have got on their high horses”, he says. “I wish journalists would leave her alone. Delia
Smith has done more for the food industry in this country than anyone.” Although he is less positive about female chefs in general – we have a good nose apparently, but we’re not physically or mentally strong enough to cope with the big bad world of… cooking. However, it is his selfproclaimed mission, starting with Frankie’s, to provide “affordable glamour”, and what glamour it is. Frankie’s is bespeckled with enormous, shimmering, fascinating and fantasy-making glitterballs whose glints and glistens are reflected in the wall upon wall of mirrors. It’s very Vegas meets Michelin-ed Pizza Express. Tiptoeing around the subject of his contemporaries (especially Big Sweary), we sashayed onto memories of the “golden era”. The epoch of the mighty chef who slaved behind his stove, terrified his kitchen assistants into submission and never abandoned his place to court the public has passed, mourned Marco. I wondered, secretly, if he was referring to his own life. But the interview was drawing to a close. “I’m in the business of feeding people and of fun”, he asserted, regurgitating his favourite line: “Wine and food are a by-product”. For those who experience his menu at Ascot this year, or one of his many excellent restaurants, I know this for sure: affordable or not, no-one can accuse Marco Pierre White of compromising on quality; expect the most sumptuous of feasts, that is, thoroughly British.
Marco Pierre White is at Carriages Restaurant on Ladies Day at Ascot. Call 020 3002 3222 for more details.
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