We have three political parties: Democrats, Republicans and Maybes/Maybe-knots. Similarly we can divide ourselves into three groups: the Bries, the Brans and the Barbecues.

The Brie

The Brie group is populated with exuberant folk who live to eat something new. These are the explorers, who flock to elBulli, The French Laundry, Alinea and The Fat Duck. Their heroes are Ferran Adria, Thomas Keller, Grant Achatz and Heston Blumenthal.

These are the Cirque du Soleil of chefs: high fliers who soar to new heights on bended twigs and clouds of dry ice while Iron Chefs and their challengers continue to astonish and delight their followers as they exhibit their own brand of jaw-dropping daring and culinary expertise.

The Brie group hurries to every new restaurant, daring to savor novel tastes, marveling at the dazzling décor and freedom of choices. They are having a glorious time, shouting applause and encouragement for the chefs and spurring them on to new creations to delight their fans. The cooks are like a jam of jazz musicians, playing set after set, variation after variation, spurring each other on with flair and imagination.

As Bobby Flay observed: “In the end, your creativity — perhaps even your outrageousness — will determine the final result.”

A characteristic of the Bran brigade is their tendency to treat themselves as outpatients. They study food labels as though they are prescriptions for life or death. Members of this group concern themselves with calories, cholesterol, and fat and have lately become obsessed with gluten.

The Brans medicate themselves with food supplements, rigorous exercise regimes and diets of denial. They fret about fluorides in the water and salt, (except sea salt), in the soup. They do not lie in the sun.

Many Brans are united in their devotion to slow (food). They sing rousing choruses of Amen’s to the principals of sustainability, seasonality and farmer’s markets. They believe we should treat animals humanely so they can eat them. Their hero is Saint Alice.

The Barbecue brotherhood are an entirely difference kettle of fish. They are happiest when dressed in warm clothing, armed and fortified with spirited drinks. They like to hunt and kill their own food: doves, ducks and dears.

The Barbecues can be found striding around their contemporary backyard version of an ancient campfire, carrying a beer and a spear, while their mates scurry about gathering all the sides and washing the dishes. The Barbecues regard a large steak with the same near reverential awe as the flag and the constitution. To those with whom they disagree, they offer tea — and sympathy. Their hero is not the Jolly Great Giant.

It is interesting to discover all three of these disparate approaches to dining result in an almost identical lifespan of three score years and ten (or twenty if you are an actuarian totting up future social security benefits.)

A lifetime if you are watching the political parties — party.

The other day a woman bumped into me. “I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed in embarrassment. “I didn’t see you.” Admittedly I’ve lost a little weight, but I think this is one of the nicest things anyone has said to me for a  long time.

The Ghost Writer (2010)

This brings me, of course, to the topic of ghost writing, a career which is the opposite of a mother’s stern warning to her children — that they be seen but not heard. A ghost has the duty to be neither seen nor heard.

Andrew Friedman is one of the rare exceptions. In 2005, New York magazine reported: “Alfred Portale, Laurent Tourondel, Michael Lomonaco, and Bill Telepan all published cookbooks this fall. The common denominator? Co-writer Andrew Friedman, wannabe screenwriter turned restaurant publicist, turned prolific channeler of the inner culinary voice.”

Michael Ruhlman

Michael Ruhlman is another celebrated ghost. His radiant, joyful writing coupled with his extensive knowledge of all things culinary, has earned him wide acclaim and effusive praise from Thomas Keller with whom he has essentially co-authored Ad Hoc and other publications and with Brian Polcyn, the Michigan charcuterie chef.

Michael writes both fiction and non-fiction, including Ratio and most recently, The Elements of Cooking: Translating The Chef’s Craft For Every Kitchen, an opinionated food glossary modeled after Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style.

I mention Michael’s credentials because he an atypical ‘ghost’. He is both seen and read (and frequently heard on the lecture circuit too).

Most ghosts, like most speech writers, are like a body at a wake: the corpse is needed for the ceremony but is not expected to say anything (much)!

In fact, speech writers and ghost writers have a lot in common. Not only must they be able to write quickly and accurately, but they also must be able to gather words together with the same rhythm and in the same idiom as the speaker or “author”.

This is not always an easy task. Just as eye witnesses to an accident will report the details quite differently and from their own bias, a ghost may prepare a draft of a cookbook, an autobiography or a press release from their own perspective rather than through the rose-colored spectacles demanded by the author.

David Joachim has written an immensely valuable description of the collaborative process in my FOOD JOBS book. It is too detailed to reprint here but here is a tiny portion of it:

“Cookbook collaborations work in a variety of ways. On one side of the spectrum, co-authors share similar interests and work hand in glove throughout the entire project. On the other side, a chef or expert provides the content and the writer puts that content into an appropriate form. Most collaborations fall somewhere in between these two extremes.”

David is THE expert in this field. He has written about healthy cooking for more than 15 years, and authored or collaborated on more than 25 cookbooks, including The Food Substitutions Bible and the New York Times bestseller, A Man, a Can, a Plan series, which has sold more than 1 million copies.

Jane Dystel, president of Dystel and Goderich Literary Management, who represents the work of dozens of successful chefs and writers, advises prospective ghosts/collaborators: “Plan to invest a day or so on the preliminaries; talking, sharing a meal together, reviewing each others work. Before taking one more step, get a signed agreement. There must be a collaboration agreement before one word of the book — or even the proposal — is written.”

A ghost is customarily required to audition with the author before an agreement is made and will certainly need to submit writing samples to make sure he or she is capturing the “voice” of the chef or author, who takes all the credit for the work in question.

A cookbook doctor (or book doctor) practices within the same arena as a ghost. The task here is to bring a fresh eye and detailed knowledge to a manuscript, and turn a sick or slightly unwell body of work into a publishable book.

May I also suggest you check FOOD JOBS, which contains contributed and credited essays from dozens of culinary experts and the website, Working With a Ghostwriter to Write a Book: What Authors Can Expect During the Ghostwriting Process as to whether this food job may be right for you.

Bocuse d'Or Award

This past weekend, a most important culinary competition was held at The Culinary Institute of America (CIA) in Hyde Park, NY. Twelve finalists–five of whom are CIA alumni–competed for the honor of representing the U.S. in the prestigious Bocuse d’Or World Cuisine Contest, that will be held January, 2011 in Lyon, France.

The competition takes place only every two years, and was established in 1987 by world-renowned French Chef Paul Bocuse. It is the preeminent international culinary competition in which teams of one chef and one commis from 24 countries compete for top honors and international acclaim. (It is the equivalent of winning the gold medal at the 2010 Olympics-winter or summer.)

These 12 finalists had a mere three hours to do the early preparation work on Friday prior to the final contest that was held Saturday. They had five-and-a-half hours to complete one Scottish wild salmon platter and one American lamb platter. The chefs were required to make a total of 12 servings for each platter, which also had to have three garnishes.

At the competition’s end, James Kent, 30, was chosen as winner. He is currently employed as the sous chef at Eleven Madison Park in New York City.

Jérôme Bocuse, the son of Paul, is a chef and a CIA graduate. He serves as a judge for the cooking contest along with other chef luminaries including Thomas Keller and Daniel Boulud.

Yet, I think I am safe in saying that none of the 800 spectators at the CIA knew about a (prior) dinner that was staged at a rented villa in the south of France.

The hosts were a couple of wealthy New Yorkers. The guests included the legendary Paul Bocuse and nine famous multi-starred French chefs. The hosts had dined in the various chefs’ restaurants for many years. They would leave generous tips at the conclusion of each meal. Thus they were remembered — vividly.

One year, the New Yorkers decided to turn the tables and invite the illustrious chefs to a “home-cooked” dinner at their rented villa. The main course was roast lamb.

Paul Bocuse was invited to carve the lamb. He walked slowly to the head of the table. He grasped the carving knife. He rested the fork on the surface of the lamb. A moment passed. Then another…

Sadly, he shook his head. “Madame,” he murmurred, “C’est terrible.”

“What?!,” wailed the hostess. “What’s terrible?”

“Ah, Madame…,” replied Bocuse mournfully. “You see, when the little lambs are in the field, the flies come. The lamb uses his right hind leg to brush away the flies. The right leg therefore gets more exercise than the left leg so it is more muscular. The left leg is more tender…”

“Madame,” he explained (with a twinkle in his eye), “you have chosen the wrong leg.”

The assembled chefs roared with convivial laughter.

The dinner was a huge success.

Paul Bocuse, (now 84?), lives on while all who know him tell stories of his genius, and his legendary sense of humor.