Torch-holding: Fernand Point (1897-1955)

Poulet du Père François

“Every morning, the cuisinier must start again at zero, with nothing on the stove. That is what real cuisine is all about.” ~Fernand Point

I hold torches for the people I admire. Extinguishing them is a gut-wrenching act, so it seldom occurs, and if and when I do, there is a long mourning period. Those lights are held high in all weathers, seasons, and conditions. One wonders if these people deserve such admiration, but hearts are relinquished in a nonsensical way. People are flawed, frequently arrogant, maddeningly imprecise, but they are also joyous, courageous, dedicated, and continue to move forward even when adversity takes a long, jagged swipe at them with its rusty serrated knife. Despite it all, they persevere.

You may think I am foolish but know I am okay with that. They are my torches, illuminating little truths about how to create something bigger than one’s self. I hold these lights up, examining, searching, wondering, learning, and being inspired. 

Fernand Point, courtesy of MeeshBomb via Flickr and creative commons license.

As part of an occasional series, today’s torch is being held aloft for one of the greatest French chefs, the father of modern French cuisine, and the holder of multiple Michelin stars for multiple restaurants, Fernand Point. He was born on this day in 1897 in Louhans, Saône-et-Loire, France. Born to innkeepers, his path was firmly set upon a route that would only lead to the hospitality industry. 

His resumé reads as a primer for any aspiring chef. He learned to cook from his father and, by age ten, manned the inn’s kitchen stoves. By fourteen, the age for French apprenticeships, he trained in some of Paris’ best restaurants before traveling to the Swiss border and training with Paul Bocuse’s father at the Hôtel Royal in Évian-les-Bains, France.

When the family moved to Vienne, near Lyon, Paul pulled up stakes and left with them, joining his father’s restaurant, located near the railway station. Most of their clients were passengers and tradesmen, and the fair was less than stellar. It was no challenge for a cook who aspired to be a chef. When his father died, leaving him the restaurant, Fernand set into motion his plans to be something more.

Point loved Lyon and its strong Roman heritage. At the age of twenty-four, he sold his father’s restaurant, bought a ruin, and named it La Pyramide, after one of the town's most famous Roman relics. There, the birth of modern French cuisine and chefs who are the restaurants’ faces, began. His enthusiastic obsession with delivering the best food and serving his clients’ likes constantly drove him to perfect every aspect of the dining experience. He oversaw the transportation of ingredients from Les Halles, participated in their preparation in the kitchens, served the food on Limoges porcelain, poured the wine into Baccarat crystal, and sat and chatted with the guests, discussing their dining experiences, and sometimes creating recipes for them on the spot. The obsession won him France’s most coveted honors; not one, not two, but three Michelin stars.

FERNAND POINT LESSONS:

• Love what you are doing, even the small things, because paying attention to details helps people feel special.

• Choose to cook with the best and freshest ingredients you can afford. Even better if they are in season and at the peak of flavor.

• Care for people so much that you want to make them happy by cooking foods they want to eat.

• Have the courage to say no.

If you are interested in learning more about Point’s cooking philosophy, I suggest you pick up a copy of MA GASTRONOMIE, a bound collection of his notebooks. Warning: it is not a traditional cookbook. It doesn’t have recipes written like a traditional cookbook, as you can see in the photo below. Frankly, this is a book for chefs who understand French culinary techniques. It’s also out of print and, therefore, very expensive, but keep an eye out for it in used bookstores. You might run across it. If you do see it, and it’s reasonably priced, snatch it up.

I’ll leave you with one of my favorite Fernand Point stories. During World War II, when Lyon was occupied by the German Nazis, Point defied the regime by feeding the fleeing refugees. When the Nazi soldiers tried to eat dinner at La Pyramide, he stopped serving dinner. When the Nazi brass walked in one day and demanded he serve them lunch, he walked over to his window, pulled down the shade, and told them that the restaurant was permanently closed before walking back to his kitchens and turning off the stove. He lived to tell the story. What a gutsy man.