Is pleasure possible without passion?

A warning before you start, this post is a bit rambling, but it's something I've been thinking about and I decided the best way to get it right was to get it written.  It's not perfect but I'm getting there.  Then again, I might be about to disappear up my own fundament.

I've just finished reading Simon Majumdar's Eat My Globe. It's clear he is a man with a passion about food.  I wasn't oblivious to his love of food - I've been reading the blog since the start and emailing and IM'ing him for some time - but in the book it becomes clear just how much he reveres great food and how good food comes together in a great meal.

That passion makes him a pleasure to read.  He reminds me of Nigel Slater and Kevin McCloud.  It is their respective passions for food and design that make them a delight to read and watch.

Passion is contagious, which is lucky as it's one of the key ingredients to producing the best food, the other is generosity.  I genuinely believe that without both of those one's treatment of food is never going to be anything more than mediocre. 

To be clear, I am not talking about quality of food as deigned by Michelin or A N Other ranking system.  I'm talking about good food as defined by the quality of ingredients, the taste and most importantly, the result of the love of preparation and the joy of consuming what is on the plate.  Nor am I talking about innovative food.  Innovation does not necessarily equate to passion.  I don't buy into the hoary old argument that innovative food is good food.  I appreciate there is a necessity to innovate, to push the boundaries of what we know as gastronomy, otherwise how do we learn to enjoy new things.  Some people do this very badly, probably more so than those that do it very well.

A perfect example of it all coming together was a recent meal at Locanda Locatelli.  I chose it for my wife's first Mother's Day since our daughter was born.  From experience I knew it would be sufficiently relaxed to not mind an eleven month old eating there - not true of all Michelin 1* restaurants in London - and that the food would be excellent and not pandering to the Mother's Day hordes.  I've never been disappointed by a meal there and I wasn't this time. 

I know that LocLoc is not the culinary apotheosis of London restaurants, but it is a great place to have a meal: the food is always excellent and the service is relaxed.  And that clearly comes from a passion at the top.

Throughout the course of our meal, Giorgio Locatelli was in and out of the kitchen, checking up on the restaurant and showing off his recently trimmed haircut.  When he first saw my daughter he smiled at her and she smiled back.

When she virtually finished off an entire plate of their specially prepared pasta (tomato sauce, no salt) he cooed at her and said he'd bring some ice-cream.  True to his word, ten minutes later he carries to the table a plate with three lozenges of sorbet: apple, raspberry and mandarin.  He talks her through them explaining the importance of eating them in the right order.  She sits there in wide-eyed amazement, seemingly listening to every word.  He then stands over her, with a look of consternation on his face as she tastes the apple.  She loves them all.  He relaxes and coos some more.  Mummy, Daddy, baby and chef are all happy.

Of itself this may seem like a minor incident.  But in the two hours we were there, this was the only dish that Giorgio brought out of the kitchen, let alone served.  His eagle like surveillance of the dining room indicated an obsession with making sure things are running well.  But the sheer pleasure he took from someone enjoying his very good food was palpable.  Even more so when that someone has never eaten anything like that before and therefore it is a defining element in the progression of her taste-buds.

The more food I experience (whether produce or in a restaurant), the more I believe that passion is a requirement and it is obvious when it is heartfelt.  The result, for the diner is always good.  It is the same with design, an area I'm becoming more intrigued with.  It seems that truly great design is the result of someone's passion.  It's the inverse of GIGO, it's PIPO, passion in, passion out.

In these straightened times we shouldn't be retrenching to an austere attitude to pleasure or passion.  I firmly believe both are imperative to happiness - and let's not be afraid to be happy. 

So whilst we might not be able to be as generous as we would otherwise like, can it be so wrong to be passionate?

Comments

[Catherine]

What a beautiful post - wonderful that your daughter had such an experience.

I agree with you - true passion is a must, but only if you have the ability as well. What is supremely annoying is the number of people who think it's their god given right to do something because it's "their passion" in life. (I'm thinking talentless reality TV wannabees, mainly, but it happens across the board.

[Anthony Silverbrow]

Catherine, thanks for that.

You raise an important point that I agree with. Associated with what you raise is something I've been mulling over since posting this, which is that innovation doesn't necessarily equal passion. Some people innovate for the hell of it because they're trying to copy, then there are the real innovators. I've edited the post to reflect that.

[Aaron]

Very interesting post, Anthony. I could not agree more that both "love of preparation and the joy of consuming what is on the plate" are paramount in this discussion. The overall experience at a restaurant (or at home, or the bakery, or...) is very much a two-way street. When there's passion in the dining room and in the kitchen, that's when the real magic happens.

[Anthony Silverbrow]

Thanks Aaron, that's exactly the point the input has a direct bearing on the output.