Ljubljana, 12. 10. 2022
Against the storytelling. At the time every fine
dining meal almost has to come with a story to “sell”, it requires balls to
take the approach Alberto Landgraf is taking.
Forget nose to tail, forget whole duck carcasses on
the table, forget edible air and moldy apples, right now there’s probably
nothing more radical than to dive into the competitive world of haute cuisine
with no pre-prepared romantic narrative.
This doesn’t mean Landgraf doesn’t have anything to
say – he’s actually an incredibly interesting conversationalist, one that can
debate with you on any topic ranging from Einstein to politics, from physics to the art world. But he also thinks silence is underrated. It would be cliché to say
he lets his food do the talking. But it would also be the truth.
The show he puts on at Oteque, his sleek, modern, sexy
Rio de Janeiro restaurant is an understated one, but extremely convincing and
pleasing. Starting with the soundtrack ranging from Morrissey to David Bowie,
from Cool Britannia to the latest indie stuff.
Landgraf is like the conductor of a small orchestra of
chefs under him, all moving in synch in almost zen-like focus in the open
kitchen, in front of the first row of guests. Everything is controlled, and impeccable, from perfect, luxurious flavor combinations coming out of the
kitchen to discreet service and hypnotic ambiance.
And yet, there’s also a whole lot of rock’n’roll
there. It’s in the pork spine and dry mushroom broth with huge clam and pork
skin “pasta”. It’s in the brioche, filled with beef tongue dressed with
beef-kombu vinaigrette. It’s in the 100% Brazil nut ice cream, ridiculously,
yet surprisingly effectively topped with caviar. It’s in the ever-changing menu
where dishes move in and out sometimes daily, but still, feels like there were
months of thought processes that went into them.
Very hardcore is also the crazy natural wine list that
accompanies the dishes that at the same time build heavily on luxury
ingredients like caviar, truffles, and wagyu. In a lot of other hands, even the
most skilled ones, those are usually the superficial traps, set to justify the
price tag of the menu. With Landgraf, they always serve a purpose – the
truffles, cut in strings, that top compressed eggplant, and cured pork belly
add the crunchiness to the creaminess of Brazilian nut milk that this
absolutely mouthwatering dish bathes in. Caviar that tops practically raw sand
perch dressed in seaweed vinaigrette with pine nuts adds that popping texture
to the subtle, elegant cold starter.
Is it Brazilian? Depends on your stereotypical notions
of what you *assume* Brazilian is. Oteque is not an in-your-face folksy
Brazilian eatery with heaps of farofa and feijoada and banana mash and manioc
sides. It’s eclectic, it reflects Landgraf’s mixed heritage, it reflects his
worldliness, but also his aversion to giving you that expected “Brazilian
experience”. Because it’s there, but it’s subtle, refined – much like his
cooking style.
Born in Parana state to a German father and Japanese
mother, Landgraf grew into a chef that reflects the two worlds – the German
discipline that intertwines with Japanese touch and a more poetic, but focused
approach to food.
No, he won’t humor you with stories about how he fell
in love with cooking in his grandma’s kitchen or when his dad took him fishing
or his uncle hunting, or when he sucked on his first oyster. No, there’s none of
that in Landgraf’s no-bullshit approach. The kitchen for him, somehow, just
happened. Out of purely practical reasons, that turned into a profession.
He was studying and traveling around Europe and he
needed a job to keep his visa. The kitchen seemed like a good way to somehow “get
by”. Later on, he trained in London under big names like Tom Aikens and Gordon
Ramsey, before returning to Brazil and opening Epice which catapulted him to
fame. This was 2011 and he was the talk of the town and the restaurant one of
the hottest venues in Sao Paulo that solidified its status with a Michelin
star.
He moved to Rio because of a girl, started from scratch
(but, granted, with a generous investor) and in less than a year Oteque already
got a reputation of Brazil’s best restaurant.
And no, there are no Amazonian ants to chew on, and there’s
no talk of saving the trees or reflecting the colorful sequins of Samba dancers
in the glistening trout roe that accompanies raw chunks of wagyu and
Koshihikari rice. No, Alberto Landgraf refuses to serve you stories. He will,
however, serve you the best Brazilian ingredients turned into what just might
be some of the most exquisite and at the same time comfortably pleasing dishes the world of fine dining has to offer.
Za Evropski simpozij hrane piše Kaja Sajovic.