Peter Gunn feels the heat at Young Chef competition in Milan
Jacques Reymond advises Gunn. “I’m here to make sure Peter gets the best out of himself,” Reymond says.Source: Supplied
On the eve of arguably the biggest moment of his career, 29-year-old chef Peter Gunn, sous chef at Attica and owner of pop-up Melbourne restaurant Ides, hasn’t yet realised the gravity of this moment.
After taking top honours as S. Pellegrino Young Chef Pacific region, he’s one of 20 of the world’s most promising young chefs in Milan, Italy, competing for the chance of being crowned the world S. Pellegrino Young Chef 2015.
No biggie really. Just 20 chefs whittled down from more than 3000 globally. But with only minutes to go before he competes on the world stage, Gunn is unfazed. Or so it seems.
One of the 20 contestants works on his visual presentation. Source: Supplied
Most of us would be quaking in our boots if asked to cook for a panel of the world’s best chefs. Think Grant Achatz, Massimo Bottura, Gaston Acurio, Yannick Alleno, Margot Janse, Yoshihiro Narisawa and Joan Roca. It’s a rock star convention. Not only is it a judging panel to be reckoned with, but each young chef has a mentor with cred worthy of those on the panel. The mentors include Australia’s Jacques Reymond, England’s Clare Smyth from Restaurant Gordon Ramsay and Ryan Clift, The Tippling Club, Singapore — who once rocked Melbourne’s food world at Vue De Monde.
It’s 48 hours until the competition starts. Gunn not only has to prep, cook and impress seven judges with his signature Robbins Island wagyu short rib with roast celery vinaigrette, he also needs to prep enough to cater for 300 guests at the gala dinner.
The signature dish of the final three young chefs will become the three-course feast — while the remaining 17 chefs must turn their dishes into canapes served to guests on arrival.
Peter Gunn’s signature dish for the competition: Wagyu short rib with roast celery vinaigrette. Source: Supplied
As Gunn and his hired help — apprentices from ALMA, Italy’s premier cookery college — get busy in Italy’s fashion capital, I’m having breakfast with legendary chef and restaurateur Jacques Reymond, Gunn’s mentor for the competition, at Villa Le Maschere in Tuscany.
“At the moment he’s not interested in my help,” admits Reymond. Although the two get on quite well, Gunn is something of a lone soldier. It seems he likes to fight his own battles, but Reymond is convinced Gunn is getting the wrong message.
“I’m not here to tell him what to do,” he explains. “I’m here to offer any help and make sure Peter gets the best out of himself.” It’s hard not to like Reymond. He has the kind of warm persona that recalls fond moments with old friends. He may be one of Australia’s most influential chefs, but he’s probably also one of our most humble.
On our return to Milan he decides to confront Gunn and lay everything on the line. A mix of bluntness and sincerity creates a real turning point. Gunn was set to go it alone, but he’s realised Reymond is there to support his endeavour and the impact is immediate.
It’s competition day and I arrive with the media entourage that swarms like buzzing bees stinging for a good story. We’re ushered to a giant green room where we can’t see any of the action. In fact, we’re informed the media is banned from the prep kitchen.
It’s a blow. I envisaged riding the chef’s coat-tails all the way to the podium. Reymond hatches a plan to allow me to go rogue. “Follow me, keep your head down,” he says.
We walk past the competition benches where chefs will plate up for judges and slip straight by security into the out-of-bounds prep kitchen. Chef mentors are in huddles in deep conversation but Clift spots me and smiles. He knows what we’re up to.
Reymond leads me to Gunn, nods and disappears. It’s only a matter of time until I’m kicked out. Gunn smiles. “Nice one, you made it in,” he says.
We’re surrounded by millions of dollars of equipment. The clang, whack, bang of chefs in motion fills the air. This frenzy is a clear sign of how much opportunity can drive us. MasterChef has nothing on this.
“We’ve been talking, it’s been great,” Gunn says of Reymond. “We came up with an onion syrup together to help dilute the intensity of the local onion flowers.”
They even combined to alter Gunn’s signature mustard oil. Reymond’s suggestion to add sake to the infused Dijon and wholegrain mustard oil helped “stabilise the sourness”.
Gunn is calm, measured. He doesn’t spray bullets around the room to let everyone know he’s here. He’s the quiet one in the corner. An introvert. “I don’t know what that means,” he says innocently.
“Ryan Clift is an extrovert, you know he’s in the room,” I say. Gunn laughs. “I’m most definitely the opposite to him.”
Gunn may be happy in the shadows but he sure can cook. He’s quietly trimming his slow-cooked short ribs “so it looks good”, while other chefs are throwing pans and random demands.
Three days earlier, Reymond and Gunn were concerned about the quality of the beef. In Australia the point of the dish is to highlight the unique flavour of grass-fed, full-blood Robbins Island wagyu raised on the northwestern tip of Tasmania. During mustering, farmers and brothers John and Keith Hammond walk the cattle on the beach — even wading through saltwater — to Walkers Island. That’s right, they get to feel the sand between their hoofs.
But we’re in Italy and Gunn had to source locally. “It’s Italian, Kobe. It’s really good,” he says, allaying all fears. He slices a piece off: “What do you reckon?” Firm to touch, the beef practically collapses to the bite. He then hands me a spoon of roasted celery garnish. It’s heavily salted, marinated in apple vinegar and olive oil. It’s sour, acidic. This dish has no sauce. Rather, the richness of the wagyu is offset by the sourness, bitterness and acidity of the celery vinaigrette. It’s clever.
In the competition area, Gunn heads to the wall of ovens and turns one to 120C. “Will other people be using this oven?” I ask.
“I don’t think so,” he says. Gunn is pacing. He says he’s calm but he looks anxious. “I just want it over now.”
Reymond interjects with a pep talk. “When you speak, raise your voice, show your passion. Don’t just say it’s wagyu beef and celery. Tell them your f..ing story, why you use that beef from Tasmania where the cows cross the sea.”
Reymond disappears, only to return moments later. “Peter, the oven is at 200C, are you keeping an eye on it?”
Gunn races to the back of the room and adjusts the temperature gauge to 120C. The incident is repeated a couple of times before Gunn asks each chef if they’re using the same oven. “You have 10 minutes,” says the adjudicator.
Gunn puts out the mise en place then gathers his team for a brief. Reymond works the pass to make sure all dishes are uniform.
Sorrel is placed first. It’s dressed with sweet apple vinegar and mustard oil. Next the wagyu is glazed with an apple balsamic reduction. A big tablespoon of the roasted celery vinaigrette is placed atop and a garnish of onion flower, chicory and chives — and voila, it’s done.
Claire Smyth, mentor for young British chef Mark Moriarty, watches intently.
“He understands his own food,” she says of Gunn. “It’s brave to do a dish with such simplicity, there’s nowhere to hide.”
Reymond is called to the microphone to champion his young chef. “Peter is a very natural cook. He understands the importance of great produce and letting it speak,” he tells the judges.
Gunn is laconically matter-of-fact. “Eat it. Enjoy it. It’s what I like to eat, and what I’d like you to eat, from me.”
It’s hard to tell whether Gunn is feeling deflated or relieved, but it’s clear the two gruelling days of competition have taken their toll on him.
By mid-afternoon we have the final three young chefs, and they don’t include Gunn. Scandinavian Christian Andre Pettersen, Peruvian Maria Jose Jordan and eventual winner Mark Moriarty from Ireland take the glory. On the announcement the young French chef storms out of the room, kicks a wall and lets out expletives. For some, winning is everything.
Gunn didn’t take top honours, but he’s already won, and so too have the other 19 young chefs. They may not realise it, but these are the moments that shape us. It’s not the moment itself, but how those experiences create the next.
“These competitions are not just about a winner,” says Reymond. “It’s about making friends, sharing food stories. Knowledge. Friendship. That is the prize you take.”
Food may have become the fashion du jour, but it wasn’t the only thing being judged at the S. Pellegrino Young Chef awards. In conjunction with Vogue Italia, a Young Designer competition ran in unison with the main event.
Once the 20 young chefs were chosen, a young designer from each region was chosen to design something inspired by each chef’s dish.
Australian designer Christopher Esber had to create an outfit based on Peter Gunn’s Robbins Island Wagyu short rib and celery vinaigrette.
“Even I’ll admit this was a weird one,” says Esber.
“I guess they are trying to bring food and fashion together — that’s very Italian.”
Esber concedes he was expecting to see a dish awash with colours, a Heston Blumenthal moment, if you will.
“Then the image arrived and it looked like a steak on a plate!” he says, laughing.
Rather than take cues from Lady Gaga’s meat dress, Esber met Gunn and tried the dish to understand the chef’s creative process.
“I researched the Robbins Island beef and there were all these images of how they take the cows across the beach. There was something really peaceful and serene about it,” he says.
“I looked at Australian beach culture, cows running along the beach and the celery vinaigrette,” he says with a laugh.
“It sounds weird when you say it out loud.”
He decided to create a top and skirt — minimalist, much like Gunn’s dish. The yellow, mustard tones take cues from the mustard overtones and roasted celery vinaigrette garnish.
Esber’s pieces are quite tailored and structured even though the end result may be an outfit that is very fluid and can have the appearance of being half-made.
For instance, some elements may include raw seams to help cross the boundary of high fashion and day-to-day lifestyle — akin to Australian culture.
There is something relaxed and undone about his work.
“The top tucks in, yet the sides hang over. The top is backless, reminiscent to our beach culture. Almost swimwear-esque,” he says.
The result is a stunning outfit and, as with Gunn, a light has been shone on Esber as one of the 20 designers globally to take note of.
A jury led by Franca Sozzani, editor-in-chief of Vogue Italia judged Chinese designer Xiao Li best designer for her street styling play on young chef Zhu Wen-yuan’s tomato dish
The writer travelled to Milan as a guest of S. Pellegrino.
Source: The Australian, Anthony Huckstep, July 11th 2015
