November 2010 Archives

A lot of my life as a chef has been devoted to thinking about the ethical issues that face our profession, and to trying to do something practical about them by carefully examining what we buy for Le Manoir. This even applies to something as humble as milk.

In America most beef cattle were long ago taken away from their traditional pastures and instead fed grain, mostly maize, in industrial feed-lots. The same thing has happened with dairy cattle, for the simple economic reason that America overproduces maize. Now some dairy farmers in Nocton, Lincolnshire want to do something similar, and they applied for planning permission to build a mega-dairy with herds up to 30 times bigger than the average British herd.

Their claim is that this will help "food security" because of its huge production - each of the 3,770 cows yielding 58 pints a day - and will be environmentally friendly. The idea of this is that the cereal feed will be grown locally and the manure spread on local fields, reducing the need for chemical fertilisers, etc. Plans to keep the beasts indoors for their entire lives have now been shelved because of animal welfare protests, and it is now intended to allow them at least to take some exercise.

However, the economic impetus for British superdairies may have disappeared, as on 18 November the Independent reported that all the leading supermarkets except Morrisons and Asda have written to a Parliamentary group saying they will not sell milk produced in this way. These good-guy multiples include Tesco, Sainsbury, Waitrose and M&S. Morrisons said "maybe" they'd sell it, and Asda refused to answer such a hypothetical question.

When I first came to this country, not as a conqueror but as a humble waiter, what I really wanted was to become a chef. I couldn't wait to get my hands around the handle of a frying pan. At last, this country (and not my native France) gave me my chance. In 1972 I arrived in England where I tasted my first breaded square fish reeking of malt vinegar, accompanied with a plastic red tomato; it was a frightening sight and I knew I was about to discover a country which had lost its own tradition, its own food. It was a cultural shock. And we are still paying a very high price for this loss.
 
It is understandable that hardly anyone noticed this news story on the day that the royal engagement was announced (and congratulations to Wills and Kate from this French republican). But on Tuesday 16 November, in Nairobi, a committee of UNESCO, the UN cultural organisation, ruled that the French gastronomic tradition, the place of food in the history of France and within the world, and - best of all - the French mealtime tradition, should be featured in its list of the "intangible" treasures of mankind.

This does not amount to saying that French cuisine is superior to any other - in any case, that would be an absurdity, as the Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Vietnamese, Turks, Lebanese, Indians, Spanish, Italians and, no doubt the Mexicans, would loudly let us know. Nonetheless, this is bound to be a boost both to French chefs and to French farmers, producers, winemakers and food and wine exporters.

I have always tried to instil in my chefs (and also the front of house people) a very specific approach to food, an attitude instilled in me by my parents: Thou shalt not waste. This means a complete respect for food, so that everything possible is used in the kitchen, not discarded. A deep understanding of when any food is in season, whether fish, meat or vegetables, and the consequences of this. To be concerned about the purity and nobility of the produce; thus I insist on knowing where it comes from, that it is fully traceable. And finally something more subjective in those with whom I work, and also those who supply us: passion and knowledge.  This approach translates into very happy guests and also into making good profits.

I have been critical and demanding in the kitchen, insisting on traceability and all other means of knowing as much as possible about every ingredient we use. I teach my chefs to be responsible; indeed I insist on it - to the point where, I'm sure, it chafes. Now we have some of the best systems it is possible to institute. We know where every food item comes from; we know where every lamb we buy has come from, whether it is a Highlands or Lowlands animal, whether it has ever been treated with antibiotics, its breed, its feed during summer and winter, hanging time, etc. Here I should like to give a personal and warm thanks to Gary, Benoit and the team who have supported me in achieving these goals.

Given the shared ethical values, we always thrive to obtain the best, and our food at Le Manoir is mostly shared between organic and free range. For many years though "organic" may have meant best practice, it did not always mean best food; this I know, having searched high and low for the best for the last 35 years. Now "organic" can often match its own promise. The organic farmer now understands that the quality and type of soil, the cultivar or breed, etc, are hugely important. A passing thanks to all the artisans, farmers and growers who are now giving a true meaning to the word gastronomy: Le Terroir (our own earth) our own sense of place, our own traditions and making new traditions. Today we can celebrate the flourishing symbiotic partnership between fisherman, farmers and chefs; the benefits are enormous and everyone will gain while working together.

But the choice I have made also presents me with a problem.
   
 

My friend Helen Browning has just been appointed Director of the Soil Association (SA), succeeding the wonderful Patrick Holden, who was in that post for 15 years. I've been involved with the SA for 35 years. It was founded in 1946 by farmers, scientists and nutritionists who were early believers in something we now accept almost universally (though we often behave differently): that there is "a direct connection between farming practice and plant, animal, human and environmental health". So the SA has become the UK's largest organic certifying body - which we'll return to later.

Helen is hugely qualified for her new job (which starts in early spring), because she is above all a farmer, running a tenanted 1,350-acre organic livestock and arable farm in Wiltshire. And she knows about business, as the farm supplies organic meat to some of the multiple retailers. Besides all this, Helen is a very public-spirited woman. She's currently Chair of the Food Ethics Council, and has served on a number of commissions, from the Curry Commission on the Future of Farming and Food to the Agriculture and Environment Biotechnology Commission and the Meat and Livestock Commission. She's currently Director of External Affairs at the National Trust (they own 600,000 acres of land), and worked as Food and Farming Director at the SA for years and years, before coming back to head it up.

In my opinion there's a huge problem in the world of organics - proliferation. There are multiple bodies, and multiple standards. This is a crazy flaw so far as the most important person - the consumer - is concerned. How can we expect a shopper, chef (or a diner, come to that) to choose among the competing claims of bodies and standards, all of which have the same basic aim: to give us the best possible quality food, grown or produced in a way that cares for the health of the consumer, the animal and the planet?  Why are there so many roads leading to the same destination? Or are some of them not going what they say? Is it not even possible that some of them are scams?  At the moment it's very hard to tell.