Left: White Heat 25: 25th Anniversary Edition, by Marco Pierre White. The original book, published in 1990, won plaudits for its unique blend of outspoken opinion, recipes and dramatic photographs by the late legendary photographer Bob Carlos Clarke
when Lawson was head chef. Surely White misses some aspects of those days? After all, at the height of his gastronomic career, Oak Room Marco Pierre White was considered London’s best restaurant. “It doesn’t mean much to me,” he says. “It’s not important. It’s a part of my life that’s been and gone.” I’m hoping for more, though. Particularly after White concedes that he was “monstrously unhappy” during his younger days, still mourning the death of his Italian mother, Maria-Rosa Gallina, who died of a brain haemorrhage when he was six. “When I see those pictures [in White Heat], I just see that I was very unhappy and in great pain. That’s the only emotional impact it has on me today. Work was a painkiller; it was where I hid.” He continues: “Pain, though, can also be a source of strength. All great artists – chefs, musicians, painters – are idealists, and idealists usually carry great pain around with them. But properly managed, that pain can lead to great things.” Today, multiple ventures place demands on his time – restaurateur, ambassador for Knorr stock, author, television personality, White is also a familiar face on the P&O cruise line. “My work for P&O is actually something I look forward to the most,” he says. “It allows me to interact with people who are genuinely interested in learning more about food, in the most pleasant of settings.” But if all this sounds just a bit too anodyne for the UK’s most charismatic chef, don’t worry. White may play down the enfant 34
terrible persona, but he clearly hasn’t lost his infamous bite. On Gordon Ramsay, who studied under White and whom he once made cry: “Technically accomplished cooking that lacks any soul. He’s the Darcey Bussell of the culinary world.” White’s take on the Michelin guide: “In my day you had to prove consistency, whereas today chefs are awarded stars almost immediately after the restaurant opens. Singapore, for example, has far too many Michelin stars – I’ve lost all respect for the guide.” White also upset members of England’s wine community recently when he opined that English sparkling wine is ridiculously overpriced, adding that he couldn’t justify selling it at his restaurants, especially when the quality doesn’t rival that of champagne. Time passes all too quickly during our conversation, but I snatch a final question before we wrap things up – what does he think about the Roux family’s decision to ban diners taking from taking photographs at the three-Michelin-starred Waterside Inn? “Dining out should not be like going to church. If people are celebrating a special occasion, to deny them a photograph is ludicrous – I think Michel’s going to have to rethink this one.” But if you feel so liberal about phone usage in public spaces, Marco, why do you continue to resist the allure of a smartphone? White still proudly owns an ancient Nokia. And he admits that he threw people out of his own restaurant for what he felt was “rude behaviour”. “I guess photos can be intrusive,” he concedes thoughtfully. “In the end, it’s all about context. Does your behaviour adversely affect other diners? If that happens, then, yes, any restaurant owner should take action.” This dilemma is largely irrelevant to White, who rarely ventures into any restaurant, never mind Michelin-starred venues, for fun. “Contemporary Michelin food is a conveyor belt of bite-size courses, usually served cold,” he says. “Family, music and my work give me all the satisfaction I crave now. All else is window dressing.” LU X U R Y L ON D ON . C O.U K