“ Serendipitously, I found that a man cooking turned out to be seductive.
I’d invite a woman over for dinner—let’s call her Mary Alice. I put on some Erroll Garner, then some Miles Davis, then ‘Moonglow’ and the theme from Picnic, the most romantic music I know from the most romantic love scene ever filmed, and brought out the first course which I’d made beforehand—shrimp Rothschild, which is hollowed-out loaves of bread sauteed in clarified butter, then filled with shrimp braised in fish stock for just a couple of minutes, the stock reduced practically to a syrup, topped off in the oven with some Gruyere and a slice of truffle. I brought it to her.
‘Oh,’ she said and followed me back to the kitchen where I put together the tournedos Rossini—small filets of beef topped with foie gras, a truffle slice, and a Maderia reduction.
‘Ah.’ She began asking very detailed questions about what I was doing and who I was.
What cinched it was a spectacular creation called Le Talleyrand. You make it with canned cherries of all things and ground almonds and sugar, cover them with a meringue, and in the meringue you put half an empty eggshell, bake it, and for the spectacular part you turn off the lights, ignite a little kirsch or rum, pour it into the eggshell when it comes out of the oven all browned, and it looks like a small volcano—which is where things can get very moist.
Mary Alice’s eyes were limpid and beseeching. ‘You’re the deepest and most complex man I know, and I love your knowledge and your fingers…but I made another date tonight at ten.’ And off she went to spend the night with another guy. All my work went to benefit him! And he never even called to thank me.
