by Blair Lebsack
I left Edmonton last fall to travel to northern Italy and spend a few months in France — especially the cities of Lyon and Bordeaux.
I had no agenda as to where I had to be, but knew that I needed to be close to food and the kitchen — my home away from home. My plan was to talk to chefs and ask permission to grace their kitchens for an unpaid work experience. Cooks refer to this period of voluntary labour as a stage, common in our line of work. To cook with masters of cuisine, to watch and learn their techniques, trucs and secrets, is payment itself.
Surrounded by celebrated vineyards, close to the Basque country, Arcachon and the Atlantic Ocean, Bordeaux is a haven for great food. Hundreds of traditional bistros, brasseries and fine dining hotel restaurants line the cobbled streets. There is also a new breed of restaurants serving cutting edge foods and flavours. My first week in Bordeaux consisted of eating through a range of classic fare, but ultimately scoping out the latter. I read about great modern cuisine being created at a hole in the wall near the quay. The description spoke of a chef trained under the great Alain Ducasse, and an adventurous menu that didn’t break the bank. I grabbed my girlfriend and insisted on a night out.
As we wander through the labyrinth of streets looking for the restaurant, there are many others that would suffice to allay hunger pains, but I am on a mission to find this particular restaurant. It’s in a more colourful part of Bordeaux where the touristy brasseries give way to small speakeasies, jazz clubs and theatres. Finally, down a dark and narrow cobblestone street, 18th and 19th century buildings on either side, above grand glass doors, a small copper sign reads C’Yusha. We have found it! We enter a vision of beautifully restored stone walls, large wooden ceiling beams, a raised dining area with a long open kitchen on one side and three tables directly across. A server quickly approaches and asks cheerfully if we have a reservation. We’re momentarily worried that we might be turned away as she looks at the book, but the response is positive.
She leads us further into the room where it opens to showcase a space that in French fashion seats 45 people, but is comfortably hosting about 30 guests. We are already enjoying the music, the candlelight and the minimalist décor, then I realize there is a perfect view of the action in the kitchen. When it comes to deciding what to eat, there is no real question, we both order the chef’s tasting menu — potage aux cepes with a whipped cream and hazelnut churro; pumpkin and foie gras mousse; risotto with enoki mushrooms and scallops. There are amuse bouches, cheeses, pre-desserts and postdesserts that are touchingly unique and leave a lasting impression. The meal is a perfect harmony of flavours, textures, temperatures. The timing of service? Impeccable. All the while, the chef, Pierrick Célibert, is alone in what turns out to be the most efficient kitchen I‘ve encountered so far. He is cook, chef and master of this restaurant and I observe the care and speed with which he plates each course, not letting the server take out anything that is less than perfect.
As the dining room starts to slow down a little, he takes time to talk to everyone as they leave. That’s perfect, as I must let him know how much we enjoyed everything, and gauge how accommodating he would be for a stage. I thank chef for the great dinner and ask him one simple question. What was the cream flavour with the potage? He beams. “It is rose petal. I infuse it in cream and make a foam.” Chef starts to reveal his total passion and love for food. He starts pulling leaves off a potted plant for me to taste. I’m astounded. It tastes like oysters! It’s called huitre vegetale du Basssin d’Arcachon and chef is working with a producer who lives on the shores of Arcachon (home of the fines de claire oyster), and they have developed something that pulls the flavour of oyster right into the leaves — essentially oyster sprouts. Chef takes more things out of the cooler and offers other morsels for me to taste. We could talk all night. This is exactly what I am looking for, so I ask if I can do a stage. Chef’s response is: “Work for free? How can I say no?”
I’ve done it, I’ve talked my way into a stage in a true French kitchen.
The next morning I wait out front for chef to open the restaurant. He says to be there at 8am. At 8:15 I go a few doors down the street for coffee. A few minutes later he arrives with a leg of lamb, wrapped in butchers paper over his shoulder. I love this restaurant! He does not have a supplier that delivers, he purchases from the butcher shop four doors down. He knows all of his producers and works closely with the local shops to keep him supplied with his needs. This is the guy for me.
I am in a kitchen in a building that seems older than time yet I’m astounded at the modernity. There is a combi oven for roasting and steaming, a hot plate for searing/ grilling, an immersion circulator for sous vide cooking, induction burners for pot and pan work, a flash freezer, warming drawer and everything else that I could possibly want in my kitchen. I’m a kid again surrounded by all the latest toys and I don’t know where to start. Chef tells me. I shuck fresh scallops, clean vegetables, make crepes and cookies, then watch while he cleans and prepares the meats. I ask tons of questions and unlike the cold, authoritarian stereotype, chef is an open book. We talk about flavours and technique.
After being open less than a year, his restaurant has made it into the Michelin Guide, and my gut tells me his Michelin star is coming soon. The French enjoy food so much, it’s
impossible to ignore the important role played by restaurants, street markets and vineyards in daily life. Not only do chefs and restaurants respond to their unique landscapes, but also contribute to establishing the identity of their towns and cities.
As I travelled through France, a chef with no kitchen, determined to touch, see, hear, smell and taste everything that food has to offer, I ended up cooking more than I ever anticipated. I rediscovered what it is that I love about food. It’s the smiles and proud faces of the men and women who work tirelessly to bring us the best and most unique products, and the wonderful meals that follow.
I’m back in Edmonton now, ready to cook. I can’t wait to be part of shaping Edmonton in this decade, supporting our own amazing products, producers and chefs.
Ice climber, mountain biker Blair Lebsack, formerly exc chef at Madison’s Grill, is on the hunt for the ideal location for his restaurant showcasing our great local foods.