The phenomenon of the TV celebrity chef is having a harmful effect on cookery publishing, argues Richard Whittington. The loser is the home cook whose priority is good, tasty food.
Once upon a time, chefs were simply chefs. Today, we have celebrities, all sporting appropriate television badges of identity - floppy toque or floral head bandage, trippy pyjama trousers or violently coloured jacket. When they're not garnering generous applause for being able to chop an onion, they appear in game shows, tell us things we should already know, and write books on the side. Or do they?
Most books packaged around TV chefs are written by A N Other. The chef's name is certainly on the cover, as, doubtless, is their picture, but the majority of such books are ghost-written. The name preceding the title, for example, Chef Winnebago's Kitchen, sells the book on the star's fame and success while implying that it conveys the secrets of both. However, much of what awaits the reader will be food we already know by another name. Thus, Chef Winnebago's recipe for grilling a chop is unlikely to add substantially to our existing knowledge.
We will also be treated to many shots of him in action. One of my favourite images is 'chef exchanging badinage with stallholder at early-morning market'. This is something that, in my experience, only ever happens when there is a photo-call: at all other times chefs order the night before, over the phone, from suppliers whose produce they trust. I am reminded of Coral Browne, who said of her husband, Vincent Price, that he would fly across the world to open a manhole cover if there were photographers present.
Unfortunately, this emphasis on celebrity has had a negative impact on food writing, with a number of publishers now only prepared to support authors who have a television profile. This is commercially expedient since the difference in sales between books linked to a TV series and those that must take their more anonymous chance on the shelves is vast - a sales figure of 100,000 for the former and 10,000 for the latter is not unusual. Television now drives publishing decisions but it is not the medium for keen private cooks who continue to obtain information and ideas from reading, and whose priority is good home food.
But what is home food? Well, for a start, it is not restaurant cooking, although the dishes that appear on restaurant menus act as a catalyst in the change and development of domestic cooking, even if the information that trickles down from the professional kitchen is not all helpful or relevant. The restaurant chefs who have become TV stars rely on visual effect since, as a medium, television cannot communicate what something tastes or smells like, or spend lots of time on the detail of its preparation. Directors inevitably focus on things like knife skills, which have nothing to do with the taste, balance or integrity of a dish. A universal TV food cliché takes the chef to a distant place and has him perform against a spectacular backdrop - even though a sausage char-grilled on top of Ayers Rock will be much the same as one barbecued in a back yard in Slough. When ideas are totally absent, we may even see an entire, hugely expensive series with multiple international locations tied down to one piece of cooking kit. This invariably ends up with the roving celebrity chef boiling water on a barbecue or frying fish-cakes in a wok.
For the majority of private cooks, the most useful lessons to be learned from professional kitchens are those of planning and delivery, the tricks of the trade that make restaurant service possible. In the restaurant kitchen, everything that can possibly be done in advance is done: last-minute preparation is restricted to one or two items, so the chef can concentrate on the compilation and presentation of the dish just before it exits the kitchen. These skills are useful for anybody who wishes to entertain, since the approach helps get food to the table on time, and with a minimum of panic. But they are not, in themselves, a formula for excellent food, as anybody who has eaten badly in a restaurant will attest. The disgusting meal you choked over paying for was undoubtedly prepared with dazzling knife-work and much shouting of 'Yes, chef!' but then, technique and discipline are never adequate substitutes for good taste.
Many dishes are best cooked at home. If we have the time to indulge in lengthy preparation - and take pleasure in doing so - then where is the harm? And if the precision of the chiffonade or brunoise is absent, this will not affect the taste, without which good food cannot be good food. Taste first, taste second and taste last. Everything else is window-dressing.
Richard Whittington is the author of 'Home Food: Exploring the World's Best Cooking' ('Cassell).