France
occupies the western edge of the European continent. On a map it seems as an
important part of a puzzle connecting the Iberian Peninsula with the
continental Europe. The leaf-like-shaped country reminds us of the French
elegance. It is a country known for good food and variety of pastry, which
takes us to its capital Paris noted for a famous chef. A chef whose attention
to details was displayed in his food. “It is a form of art,” insisted Antonin
Careme and this is his story.
During
the French Revolution, the time when France went through many turbulent changes
and later with Napoleon becoming a leader, a ten year old Antonin was abandoned
by his parents.
He
wandered about the narrow streets of Paris in search of a shelter. In his view,
appeared a place with chattering people and cluttering tableware. Savory aromas
reached his nose. With growling belly, the boy peeked through the window.
Nicely
dressed lady, with a feather in her hat, carefully chew her beef stew and
continued chitchatting to a man sitting across her. The man not so talkative,
nodding in agreement, simply tried to eat his roasted chicken.
“What
are you doing here, boy?” asked a man with crossed hands on his big belly
appearing on the door step. He came out suddenly, scaring the boy.
“I…I…was
just looking,” Antonin stuttered.
“Go
away,” yelled the man cutting off the boy.
Around
the corner, Antonin sat against the wall with his knees bent, close to his
chest, hugging the legs and tears rolling down his cheeks.
It
was already dark and getting chilly, when the grumpy owner was closing the door
and heard some weeping. “You’re still here. What do you want?” he asked not so
nicely.
“I
need a bed for the night,” the boy sniffed.
The
man’s heart melted just a little, “You can help me in the kitchen at the crack
of the dawn. Now, go upstairs.” He rushed the boy since he was tired and wanted
to go to bed himself.
This
is how Antonin started his career in the kitchen. With time, he had proved to
have a talent for cooking and reinventing hearty meals. “A soup is a must,” he
insisted on serving it before each meal. “It awakes your palate and prepares
you for the main meal.”
Once
he served a soup made of snails and frogs to his coughing client insisting, “It
will calm down your cough.” He believed the soup had medicinal qualities.
So
he made some small marks, but he recognized it quickly that he had to come up
with something new and original to rise above the chefs in the city. And he saw
it just in time for the next opportunity.
A
famous pastry chef with a patisserie shop near the Royal Palace was looking for
some help. Antonin knocked on the door and applied, “Sir, I’m here to help you,
if you wish to hire me.”
The
pastry chef, who was a kind man, looked at the skinny boy dressed in clothes
too big for him as from a much older brother and asked, “When can you start?”
The
pastry shop was located in a bustling area with crowds satisfying their sweet
tooth.
A six tier ice-cream
was carried to a lady sitting under the umbrella. “Pardon me madam,” confused
waiter asked, “Is this for you?”
“Why,
yes,” confirmed the irritated lady. “Why, I can’t have ice-cream,” she murmured
to herself.
A
crepe filled with fresh fruits, decorated with whipped cream in a shape of a
pyramid and topped with a red cherry was carried carefully to a boy near the
shaded area by lots of trees.
“Sir,
I believe this is for you,” said the waiter with a smile.
“Thank
you,” grinned the boy beaming with pride to be called sir.
Shortly,
Antonin was learning how to make all that pastry himself and proudly displaying
it in the patisserie’s window.
Pastry
dough was formed in a shape of balls, flattened at the bottom and cut in half,
then filled with whipped cream and decorated with a long neck, making it look
as a swan.
“It’s
ready to hop on the river and float away,” commented one boy staring at the
window display and licking his lips.
Soft
and crunchy macaroons in the colors of rainbow were stocked in a shape of cone
and displayed on the opposite side of the swans.
The
centerpiece of the window display was a three tier cake covered in smooth white
cream and decorated with an eatable ribbon at the very top.
“A
ready gift not needed to be wrapped. What an amusing idea,” observed one lady
all sparkling in jewelry.
All
this was coming out of Antonin’s hands. He worked hard and long hours. The
pastry chef quickly recognized Antonin’s hard work and talent. He gave him some
free afternoons from time to time. The truth was he knew that Antonin spent his
spare time at the library studying buildings. Architecture was the inspiration
for his cakes rising high and above with intricate shapes.
“Attention to details, that’s the key to success,” he
proclaimed. He used sugar-paste to carve details seen in classical buildings.
Marzipan, the almond paste, was his favorite for building castles with towers
and temples with classical columns.
Soon,
the young boy, almost a young man was already making a name for himself among
the Parisians, and with that came special orders.
“Toop,
toop, toop,” the noise of a heel hitting the stone approached the shop.
“Antonin,
I have such important guests this Friday. You can’t refuse to cook for me that
night,” announced such skinny lady that you could almost see through her.
“Of
course not milady,” answered troubled Antonin as he was already busy as it was.
However,
most of those special orders came from Talleyrand, a well-established
politician, who encouraged Antonin to leave the pastry shop for freelance
cooking. And that’s what he did with time.
His
next move was the grand kitchen of Talleyrand’s place, where he made pastry for
the high society of Paris including writers, poets and politicians.
Another
venue that came with time was banquet cooking at one of Paris’s hotels. This
was a valuable experience for Antonin as he learned that serving hundreds of
dishes at once was pleasant for the eye, but not palate. The meant to be hot
dishes many times ended up being cold by the time they were served.
One
of the most valuable lessons he learned at the hotel was preparation of sauces,
which later became his signature as well. From the more experienced chefs he
learned how to create flavorful dinners.
With
Talleyrand’s recommendations, Antonin was gaining more customers including
Pauline Borghese, Napoleon’s sister. To impress Pauline and her guests, Antonin
made one of the most extraordinary pieces of pastry looking like a vase filled
with fruits on top. It took ton of spinach to make the most delicate green
color icing. Pistachios were chopped to add crunchiness to the pastry. This
centerpiece was displayed with hundreds of individual tarts filled with custard,
fresh fruits and topped with a small scoop of ice cream and a touch of a few
chocolate flakes. The guests’ big eyes admired
the small tarts amazed at the size.
Talleyrand
once challenged Antonin, “Why don’t you create a four entrée with some twist.
So we can taste something different each day for a year.” It was quite a test
that brought Antonin closer to nature as he used seasonal produce to create
different meals for every day. A test, which he supposedly passed.
However,
Antonin’s heart was set on improving puff pastry. And that’s what he did at his
patisserie between the freelance cooking. His first puff pastry was more of a
thick layer filled with cream and topped with chocolate icing, known as eclair.
But he wanted something so light that it could almost fly with the weakest blow
of a wind. After many trials and errors, he succeeded creating a pastry full of
delicate crusty sheets. But this was just the beginning of the soft pastry,
which later came in different tastes and shapes.
One
of those creations looked like many thin crusty sheets put together for each
out of three layers. The two layers between were filled with whipped cream and
topped with sifted confectioner’s sugar to make an even layer. The rumor had it
that Napoleon had so much of this pastry that it was named after him. But this
was just a rumor.
On
a sunny summer day a lady hiding her pale skin under a parasol shyly approached
Careme, who was on his way to the library.
“Sir,
I do not mean to bother you, but I’ve heard that you fulfill special orders.”
She stopped as hesitating if she should continue. “Would you be so kind and make
some of your puff pastry for my daughter’s coming birthday?”
“Of
course madam. Sweet or savory?” asked Antonin.
“Sweet,
of course.” After a further thought she added, “And with custard if possible.
That’s her favorite.” It was agreed it would be delivered to the house on the
special day.
He
shaped the pastry in rounds as individual cakes. Filled them with custard and
topped with a strawberry circled with blueberries. It was simply amazing.
“Attention to details,” that’s what he often reminded himself.
On another occasion, an order came from a gentleman. He
knocked the door with his umbrella, which he carried on this gloomy day. He
knocked like he needed to warn somebody that he was entering Careme’s
patisserie. “I’m searching for a cook of savory puff pastry. Are you the right
cook for this challenge?” the man asked.
“Yes,
I am certain you found the right person.” Antonin nodded and took the order. He
learned to appreciate all customers as they challenged him through his career
and helped him become who he was.
The
savory puff pastry was as successful as the sweet puff pastry. He filled it
with clams savored in white sauce. “Simply mouth melting and superbly enjoyable
for the palate,” exclaimed the gentleman, who stopped by just to say it.
Antonin Careme also made his mark with a white, tall,
round hat. “It must be stiffened to sit properly on the head,” he insisted.
Later he even published an illustration of it and is credited with creating the
first standard chef’s hat.
Today
Antonin Careme is recognized as the first international celebrity chef.
