In Memoriam

Chef Paul Haeberlin, my dear friend and mentor, passed away this past Saturday at the age of 84. He took the helm at his family’s restaurant after the second World War, renamed it Auberge de l’Ill, and transformed it into a dining destination that has held three Michelin stars for over forty years. A true artist in the kitchen, Chef Haeberlin changed my life with his cooking, teaching, and commitment to both.

Knowing my passion for food, my parents took me to my first haute cuisine dinner at Auberge de l’Ill for my sixteenth birthday. That meal confirmed my calling to become a chef. I had never tasted flavors so refined or experienced a meal so perfect. I wanted to be the chef who created that most luxurious dish – a whole Périgord truffle wrapped in foie gras and buttery pastry.

So, I did the next best thing and began an apprenticeship under Chef Haeberlin. Every day, he taught me the importance of choosing the best ingredients, bringing out the best in their natural flavors, and presenting them beautifully. Chef Haeberlin had developed strong friendships with local hunters and they returned his loyalty by bringing him their first and finest catches. Throughout the hunting season, we got a steady supply of plump pheasants, partridges, woodcocks, and quail. As a junior apprentice, I was assigned the tedious task of plucking them. For up to sixteen hours a day, I would inhale their pungent (to put it mildly) smell while yanking off their feathers and throwing them into giant bags at my feet.

Anyone who has ever plucked a bird, still warm from the hunt, knows just how hard it is to pull the feathers cleanly from the skin. I wasn’t allowed to wet the birds first, which causes the feathers to release more easily, because Chef Haeberlin wanted the skins dry to enhance their texture and flavor. To remove any remaining bits of fuzz, I had to carefully flambé the skin to keep it whole and further dry it. I can’t say that I enjoyed it, but by the end I came to understand the value of the technique. Any frustrations I had with the process disappeared with a bite of his exquisitely-prepared pheasant; it was clear that each step had made a huge difference in the final dish. Hunting is no longer permitted in the region, and game birds are now plucked by giant machines, but I’ve not forgotten the value in personally sourcing and meticulously preparing the best ingredients, no matter how laborious the process.

That was just one of many cooking lessons, but the daily life lesson Chef Haeberlin taugh me was the importance of family, including the restaurant staff. His brother ran the front of the house in my time, and now his daughter does, with his son heading the kitchen. But he considered all of the restaurant staff as family. He treated us with warmth and respect, encouraging us in our careers and leading by example, focused on the stove and not the publicity that his Michelin stars generated.

This past September, I was privileged to be at a Michelin party given in his honor. To celebrate his more than four decades as a three-star chef, all of his former apprentices gathered to toast him at Auberge de l’Ill. Scanning the room of stellar chefs, I realized that he had shaped generations of us and altered the way the world enjoys food from his quiet corner of France.

I certainly wasn’t the only one whose life he changed, but it’s no exaggeration to say that I simply wouldn’t be who I am and where I am without my great mentor and friend.

In Pursuit of the Work-Life Balance

What does it take to devote quality time to work and family? In my case, a lot of energy and well-planned flight itineraries. Thankfully, I have both.

Last Friday, I left for Dubai to look at potential new projects. Already well-established as a buzzing metropolis, Dubai continues to grow its luxury market. That's where I come in. Given the city's appeal, I may open even more than one spot.

After two days there, I flew to Istanbul for my newest restaurant's official grand opening. Spice Market already has been extremely well-received, but last night, we welcomed the whole town. The city closed off the street in front of the hotel and issued a big opening night announcement. Nearly 800 people, from Turkish dignataries to Starwood executives, descended upon the restaurant and celebrated with rounds of cocktails and appetizers. Chef Hakki and the New York-based team, chefs Justin, Joey, and Lia, did an amazing job turning out a parade of dishes.

The party didn't start until 9:30 in the evening, but I still got on the first flight back to New York the next morning. I wanted to come home and kiss Marja and Chloe hello and good-bye. I left for Las Vegas this morning to participate in Bon Appetit's Vegas Uncork'd event.

I can't believe it's been ten years since I opened Prime Steakhouse at the Bellagio, and I'm thrilled that it's the hotel's most successful restaurant. I feel privileged to be a part of Vegas's high-end dining revolution and to be honored for it at the Saturday night gala. To mark this milestone, I'm going to introduce a new dish at the dinner--charred steak with miso-mustard butter and a foie gras wonton. As soon as my course is served, I'm going to race to the airport and catch the red-eye home. I'll arrive just in time for Mother's Day.

Maybe I'll make Marja a steak dinner too. During our last weekend home, we had some great grass-fed rib-eyes from Four Story Hill Farm, where they naturally age their beef for 28 days. I stuffed my fireplace with sticks and branches and built a roaring fire. (It felt like medieval cooking.) Once the huge flames dwindled into embers, I cooked the steaks in my fireplace grill box. Caramelized on the bone, the juicy steaks needed nothing more than a sprinkle of fleur de sel.

Maybe I won't even be the one doing the cooking this Sunday. Three of Marja's cousins are visiting from Korea and one of them is an amazing cook. I'm sure they've been having fun together while I've been gone. I'm looking forward to joining them, and learning a thing or two about Korean cooking. In the meantime, I'll try to squeeze in some shopping while in Vegas. Being a last-minute sort of guy, I still need to get something for Marja and for my mother in Alsace.

A very happy mother's day to all the moms out there.

Home Cooking

As promised, here's the spring recipe I was telling you about. It'sthe sort of one-dish meal I love preparing on weekends. Though far easier than my restaurant creations, it's just as delicious. I start with a bed of shaved fennel in my roasting pan, the one I use for Thanksgiving turkey, and lay a whole black bass on top. I then blanket the fish with lemon slices, cherry tomatoes, and parsley. After half an hour in the oven, dinner's ready.

Of course, I employ a few tricks that make this sounds-too-simple-to-be-great recipe really amazing. The first is obvious: use the freshest ingredients you can find. Go fishing and catch a bass. If you can't do that, go to a reliable fishmonger. Whether at a farmers' market or neighborhood grocery, choose fennel bulbs that are firm and smell strongly of licorice, cherry tomatoes that look like they're ready to burst through their taut skins, Meyer lemons that are heavy for their size and emanate a heady citrus perfume. To make prep a breeze, use a mandoline or a Japanese-style hand-held slicer. Unless you're a chef with impeccable knife skills, you can't get paper-thin slices of fennel and lemon otherwise.

Throw in a few secret ingredients. I sprinkle fennel seeds over the fresh fennel slivers for a layer of anise-scented complexity. A glass of really good dry white wine poured into the pan mingles with all of the natural juices to become an amazing sauce. The key to roasting a whole fish and keeping it moist is making sure the flesh is cooked through, but not overcooked. The best test is poking the fish with a paring knife; the blade should slip easilythrough the flesh. When the tip of the blade hits the bone, pull it out and feel it—it should be warm to the touch. Take the pan out ofthe oven and set it aside for 20 minutes. Whenever you're cooking fish on the bone, let it rest so that the juices disperse evenly through the flesh. That's all it takes for a really good fish dish. You can serve it on its own, but I ate mine with steamed white rice and caramelized artichokes with ramps and spring garlic.

The simplicity of this fish recipe is quite different from the complexity of some of my restaurant dishes, like the vanilla-rhubarb "noodles" Johnny Iuzzini makes for his spring rhubarb tasting menu.

The concentration of pure rhubarb juice in slick pink strands is really delicious, but this dessert is impossible to recreate unless you have this machine at home.

For another pure taste of spring, just try this recipe:

Roasted Whole Sea Bass With Fennel, Meyer Lemons, and Cherry Tomatoes
Serves 4 to 6

Any fish on the bone works here; whole red snapper and salmon steaks are good choices.

Extra-virgin olive oil

2 fennel bulbs, cored and shaved into paper-thin slices

2 teaspoons fennel seeds

Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 whole black sea bass (about 4 pounds), gutted and scaled

2 Meyer or regular lemons, sliced paper-thin

1 box (1 pint) cherry tomatoes

A handful of fresh flat-leaf parsley

1 glass dry white wine

Preheat the oven to 400°.

Coat the bottom of a large roasting pan with the oil. Arrange the fennel in an even layer that covers the bottom of the pan. Sprinkle the fennel seeds, salt, and pepper over the fennel, and place the fish on top. Cover the fish with the lemon slices, tomatoes, and parsley. Pour the wine around the fish, and season everything with salt and pepper.

Roast until a knife pierces through the flesh with no resistance,about 30 minutes. Remove from the oven, and let rest for 20 minutes. Serve warm.

Open in Istanbul

We're open for service in Istanbul! Our newest Spice Market, in the W Hotel here, reflects the eclectic mix of modern and ancient in this beautiful city.




I was so excited when we first signed on for this project and am thrilled that it's completed. The grand opening went well despite a host of challenges. (Opening Spice Market in Atlanta a few weeks ago was a breeze compared to this.)
Aside from the language barrier, it was difficult to track down ingredients.
It's ironic because Istanbul has so many amazing "spice markets," filled with aromatic produce. The markets just don't carry many of the Asian ingredients used in my dishes.

My Istanbul chefs Lia and Hakki (pictured here) and Justin and Joey and I have enjoyed experimenting with native spices and herbs to come up with substitutes for the galangal and young coconut in our signature dishes. This minor hurdle, among others, was easily overcome by our Culinary Concepts team.

They are led by Daniel Del Vecchio, my VP of Operations and photographer extraordinaire, as you can see from the photos posted here. Having worked with me for years, he knows what I expect and ensures that my Spice Market restaurants uphold my standards in food, service, and decor.

While I strive to maintain the same high quality in my restaurants around the world, I want each to be distinct and to reflect the local surroundings. Anytime I cook in a different country, I strive first to understand the local cuisine through street markets and neighborhood restaurants. Soaking up the flavors around me and incorporating them into my dishes has transformed my understanding of food and cooking.

Istanbul has certainly done that, as has Paris, where I'm now teaching my chefs spring and early summer dishes.

When I get home, I'll pass along the spring recipe I promised last week.