Pleasures of the table

The Art of Living Well

Epicurus taught that the physical world was all there was and that we should not look to the gods to give our lives meaning. But his philosophy of pleasure was far removed from simple indulgence. For Epicurus, happiness was to be found in friendship, tranquillity, freedom from unnecessary desires and the enjoyment of life’s simple pleasures. Philosophy, for him, was ultimately about learning how to live well and happily. There is something in that philosophy that has always appealed to me. For me, happiness has very little to do with money or possessions. It has much more to do with the friends you keep, the experiences you share and the people around your table. Or, to put it another way: be just as choosy about whom you eat with as about what you eat — and what you drink with it, of course!

I have always had a deep appreciation for good food, good wine and lively conversation — the pleasures of the table. There are few things more satisfying than discovering a beautiful bottle of wine: first the colour in the glass, then the aroma, and finally that first taste. But wine and food become truly memorable when they are shared. A wonderful meal is not simply a collection of dishes; it is the conversation, the laughter, the people and the occasion that remain in your memory. The kitchen, therefore, is much more to me than simply a place where food is prepared. It is the workshop of a craftsman, but at the same time an intensely personal space. The things I use there every day evoke memories of friends, relationships, journeys, meals and special moments. A particular bottle of wine may take me straight back to France; a recipe may remind me of a restaurant somewhere on our travels; and a familiar dish can bring back an evening with friends from many years ago.

And, of course, if you enjoy cooking, good tools matter. At the heart of my kitchen is my Italian Boretti range cooker, with six gas burners and a powerful wok burner. I have always enjoyed cooking on gas: immediate heat, complete control and something satisfyingly physical about a real flame beneath a pan. One of my favourite kitchen tools is my 21 cm Global forged chef’s knife, made in Japan. A really good knife becomes almost an extension of your hand — beautifully balanced, extremely sharp and equally at home finely chopping herbs, preparing vegetables or working with meat and fish. Like so many things in cooking, good equipment does not make you a good cook, but it certainly makes cooking more pleasurable.

On this page I have included a few photographs from our own home: my kitchen, a table beautifully set by Hélène, and some of the dishes I have prepared over the years. They are not here simply to show food. For me they represent something much more important: the pleasure of preparing something with care and then sitting down together to enjoy it. Because in the end, perhaps Epicurus was right about one thing above all: some of life’s greatest pleasures are surprisingly simple — good food, a good bottle of wine, and good friends around the table.

Cooking for Friends

I love preparing dinner for friends. For me, much of the pleasure begins long before everyone sits down at the table: thinking about the menu, choosing the ingredients, opening the right bottle of wine and spending an afternoon in the kitchen. Meanwhile, my wife Hélène sets a beautiful table — as you can see in the picture below — and has always been the perfect hostess. I do the cooking, she creates the atmosphere, and together we have enjoyed many wonderful evenings with family and friends around our table. My favourite cuisines are French regional cooking — especially the simple, traditional cuisine paysanne — Italian, Thai and Indonesian. They are very different culinary traditions, but they have something important in common: good ingredients, distinctive flavours and food that is meant to be enjoyed and shared.

But if I had to choose just one, Italian cuisine would probably be my favourite. What I love about Italian cooking is its apparent simplicity. It developed largely from regional and rural traditions, where people cooked with what was locally available, what was in the pantry and what was in season. A few excellent ingredients, treated with respect, can produce something extraordinary. There is no need to make a dish unnecessarily complicated.

And, of course, there really is no single Italian cuisine. Travel through Italy and the food changes continually. Every region, city and sometimes even village seems to have its own pasta, sauce, cheese, sausage or particular way of preparing meat, fish and vegetables. Ingredients, seasonings and cooking methods can change dramatically within surprisingly short distances. The result is not one national cuisine, but a wonderful mosaic of regional traditions. Yet wherever you travel in Italy, one thing remains remarkably constant: the importance of the table. A meal is not merely something you eat because you are hungry. It is an occasion for family and friends to sit down together, talk, laugh, argue a little perhaps, open another bottle of wine and allow the rest of the world to wait for a while.

And that, perhaps more than anything else, is what I love about Italian cooking: food is important, but the people you share it with are even more important.

From France to Florence

France is a country we have visited often, and on one memorable occasion we turned the journey into a real gourmet and wine tour. We began in the Loire Valley, famous for its white wines, but soon discovered the delightful reds of Saumur and Chinon as well. From there we travelled south to Bordeaux, where we tasted some of the great wines for which the region is famous — while also discovering that some of the lesser-known wines could be every bit as enjoyable. We continued into the Dordogne, staying at Château des Vigiers, surrounded by the beautiful countryside of south-western France.

For our final night we treated ourselves to a stay at the Royal Champagne Hotel near Épernay — an entirely appropriate place to end a journey devoted to good food and wine. We had a wonderful time and inevitably gained a few pounds along the way — no pain, no gain! We may have returned home a little heavier, but so did the car: the back was loaded with foie gras, wine and champagne. I can think of worse ways to end a holiday.

A Gourmet Week in Florence

Some time later, Italy provided us with another memorable culinary adventure. We spent a week in Florence, where Hélène’s sister Marion, an art historian who taught art in San Diego, California, was taking part in a study-abroad programme. She had a wonderful little apartment right in the historic centre of Florence — di fronte a Palazzo Strozzi! — and, most importantly for us, a spare bedroom. So we packed our bags and off we went.

Tuscan cuisine has its roots in the simple country cooking of the surrounding region. It is based on fresh, seasonal ingredients, traditional recipes and preparations that often appear deceptively simple. Good olive oil, bread, vegetables, beans, pasta, meat and a bottle of local wine — ingredients do not have to be complicated when they are good to begin with. And Florence was the perfect place to enjoy it. We wandered through the city, visited markets and small restaurants, tasted local dishes and wines and, naturally, allowed ourselves to forget about calories for a while. It was a wonderful gourmet Italian week — art, history, food and wine all coming together in one magnificent city.

And perhaps that is a fitting place to end this page. Good food and good wine have given Hélène and me enormous pleasure over the years, but the best memories were never really about what was on the plate or which vintage was in the glass. They were about the places we visited, the friends and family around the table, and the pleasure of sharing it all together.

Oh yes — and thank you for paying me a visit.
May all your wines have a good year!

Cees