Domninique
Loiseau
A
more recent and even more publicized chef's widow, Domninique
Loiseau, has breathed new life and energy into the legacy
in just a few short years. On February 24, 2003, Dominique's husband,
Bernard Loiseau, committed suicide next to the
marital bed with the shotgun his wife had just given him as a
present, just after sending his young son from the room.
Despite
this staggering blow, she assembled her troops and held fast.
Head chef Patrick Bertron had been with Loiseau
from the beginning, 21 years before.
Bertron,
a disciplined young chef, had soaked up the style of Loiseau like
a sponge and executed the creations of Loiseau to perfection.
Bernard tortured himself into originality but enormous success;
Patrick helped him make it a daily reality. Bertron kept the kitchens
turning out the Loiseau recipes faultlessly for years with or
without Loiseau in attendance. Loiseau treated his staff as partners,
not slaves. They were dedicated to him in a fashion not often
seen in the back biting world of haute anything. To the outside
world, Bernard Loiseau was warmth personified,
he would embrace you with his energy, engulf you in his passion
as he described what he was doing with tastes. His face was known
nationwide from continuous TV appearances.
But
the world did not see the man who, in his private moments, was
plagued with doubt and insecurities. He shared these with M.
Hubert Couilloud his maître d'hotel whose broad
shoulders of friendship not only supported Loiseau though the
worst of his panics but brought supreme professionalism to the
running of the dining rooms.
In
the early days, Loiseau's staff was so dedicated to him, they
spent their off duty hours and few days off helping to paint and
remodel the old "Cote d'Or" and bring
it up to some semblance of modern acceptability. Couilloud saw
his friend Loiseau through the birth pains of the restaurant,
a massive hotel addition, a failed first marriage and finally
a second marriage.
This
marriage was to a calm, competent woman, trained as a dietitian/nutritionist
and former journalist. Dominique was a rock of
stability to Bernard's highs and lows. She was pleasant but reserved,
a good balance to his wide-open, tornado-like personality.
In
the end, despite being demoted by the guide Gault-Millau
from 19 out of 20 to 17, it seems his overwhelming insecurity
brought on the depression that drove him to death. He was so convinced
that Michelin was going to pull one of his stars that he himself
apparently spread the rumor of the star loss that boomeranged
back to him and verified his own fears, according to author Chelminski.
The irony was that Michelin affirms it had no intention of dropping
a star.
Business
was mixed at Cote d'Or before Loiseu's demise.
Weekends could be busy, but weekdays could pass without a single
guest. Not only did Bernard launch a huge expansion and building
project but he appeared on TV and radio to launch his own line
of canned and frozen foods, cookbooks, three more restaurants
in Paris, and his own wine label. He was the first to put himself
and his restaurant on the stock market. By his death, he was also
worried about the swarm of successful young chefs, who like himself
years earlier, were making their mark on the culinary world with
new ideas and approaches. He was afraid his parsley and water
sauce was becoming stale and would not attract the visitors of
yesteryear. What was he to do to stay on top and be able to pay
the interest on the loans? Unable to find an answer, he pulled
the trigger.
This
whole empire landed in the lap of Dominique who
was not a chef but a former journalist and dietitian/nutritionist.
Fortunately she, like Mme. Chapel and Mado Point, had her feet
on the ground. With little time for grief, she was forced to take
up the reins of the enterprise. Chef Patrick Bertron
was right there. The show could and had to go on and it did without
pause. Dominique has a loyal partner in the kitchen of the highest
talent, who codified the traditional Loiseau and has also expanded
on his mentor's vision producing original dishes of his own with
little lag time. Thus within a year, he regained for Relais Bernard
Loiseau the third star that Michelin had suspended on Bernard's
death.
When
we recently revisited what is now called Relais Bernard Loiseau,
the menu was replete with Loiseau classics, but now also filled
with new and marvelous creations from the fertile mind of Patrick
Bertron.
The
restaurant and hotel's beautifully appointed rooms and suites
are as perfect today as they were when Loieseau was alive.
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