Alice Waters and Chez Panisse by Thomas McNamee

Truth be told, I never heard of Alice Waters or Chez Panisse before reading this book. Before this summer, I was pretty ignorant of the foodie scene. I always enjoyed eating, and I sometimes enjoyed cooking, but I was pretty uninformed. Then I was given a copy of Phoebe Damrosch’s Service Included less than a week before our reservations at the famous Per Se in New York City in May. I hadn’t even known much about that restaurant or its proprietor, Chef Thomas Keller, before reading Damrosch’s book. I finished that book in a couple of days, just in time for it to intensify my dining experience at Per Se. And it really did!

I had an image of what to expect at the restaurant thanks to Damrosch. What may have otherwise been completely overwhelming and intimidating became an immensely pleasurable journey through food. I hadn’t known much before, but my eyes were now opened. I wanted more.

Luckily, shortly after that experience, I spent four weeks in California. (Food tastes very different in California.)

We spent a week in San Francisco during the World Wide Developer’s Conference, and then drove to Portola Valley and Berkeley to drop a couple friends off. In San Francisco, we ate at the Zuni Café (thanks to a suggestion from a friend), R&G (which has wonderful Chinese food, good service, and a nice atmosphere), and Mijita and Lulu Petite in the Ferry Building Marketplace; we also had a lot of sushi.

When we drove through Berkeley, we contemplated stopping to eat, but decided against it. Of course, now that I know about Chez Panisse and that it is located in Berkeley, I’m very disappointed. We then drove to Corte Madera, not far from San Francisco, to be closer to the Muir Woods. We ate at the Melting Pot that evening. (I now know that it is a very common chain restaurant.) After Muir Woods the following morning, we made the trip to the holy land (for Thomas Keller fans), otherwise known as Yountville. Yountville is brimming with Thomas Keller restaurants: French Laundry, Bouchon, Bouchon Bakery (not really a restaurant, but definitely a separate entity), and Ad Hoc. Thanks to an awesome concierge at the Napa Valley Lodge, we were able to snag dinner reservations at Bouchon that evening. The food was divine, of course, and made up for the very-different-from-Per-Se service.

Sacramento was next, where we ate at the Waterboy. I found a recommendation in my Frommer’s California 2008 travel book and made reservations that afternoon. It was also very good, and the service was fantastic. Yosemite National Park followed, but we didn’t eat anything notable there. (I, however, had my first experience eating mellon with prosciutto. Yum!) We didn’t really find anything special in San Jose, despite our efforts. Then we drove from there to Santa Monica, which took about 5 hours. During our drive through dried out fields, we stopped in a small town that seemed heavily Mexican-influenced, and grabbed a bite to eat. The place we chose seemed authentically Mexican, complete with a display of Mexican candies, pastries, and breads. It looked run-down and a little scary, but we decided to try it regardless, as the food looked particularly authentic and delicious. And it was.

We didn’t have much luck in Santa Monica, but San Diego was a pleasure. My Frommer’s California 2008 book recommended a place called Sushi Ota, tucked in the corner of a small shopping plaza, right next to a 7-11. We called in advance, which was wise to do, as the restaurant was packed when we arrived. We opted to sit at the sushi bar, and told our sushi chef “omakase,” which is almost like asking for a tasting menu. (The sushi chef decides what to serve you.) We were given beautiful plates of fresh seafood in four courses, each with its own special charm.

While in Pasadena, we ate at Mi Piace, an Italian restaurant with a lovely modern interior, and La Cachette, a French restaurant where we enjoyed a six course tasting menu with friends.

Lastly was Anaheim, a place seemingly devoid of restaurants that serve good food. We didn’t have much luck there, but endured because of our love for American libraries and the ALA conference. (I can look forward to the restaurants near next year’s conference in Chicago: Alinea, Moto, L2O.)

After my recent experiences, it’s no wonder that my appetite is still whet. California is fertile with restaurants that serve innovative, fresh, and interesting food. While I’m stuck in upstate New York, I can at least read about it in McNamee’s Alice Waters and Chez Panisse, and dream of my next chance to go to California and finally witness first-hand what Chez Panisse has to offer.

This book was better than I expected. The last food-related -biographical novel I read was Damrosch’s Service Included, and though it was well-written, it was rather tiresome when the author exposed her love-life. McNamee’s work is an account of many aspects of Alice Waters, her passion, and her work. It’s deeply personal, and unfalteringly interesting. The author weaves the story through many different perspectives of people in Alice Waters’ life and Alice Waters, herself, and presents many of their first-hand accounts and opinions. It’s fantastically written.

As for Alice Waters as a person, I am her newest fan.

There are many passages in this 351 page biography that are quote-worthy, but this one made me most excited about Chez Panisse and cemented my desire to experience it myself:

If a diner asks a question about the food that his waiter can’t fully answer, the diner is likely to be invited into the kitchen, to talk to the cook responsible for the dish. The portions are adequate, but if someone especially likes something, and as long as there’s enough, it’s not a secret that the kitchen will gladly serve seconds. (p. 343)

I’d recommend this book to anyone who has the faintest desire to learn more about American cuisine, likes eating, or likes biographies. It might awaken a passion about food in you that you never knew you had. (5/5)