Read

Expert Opinion: Bethia Woolf on Menus-Plaisirs—Les Troisgros

Bethia Woolf

Jan 08, 2024

A hand holding chopsticks arranges small bits of food on a white plate.

Ahead of our screenings of Frederick Wiseman's latest documentary January 13–14, the Columbus Food Adventures cofounder shares her view on its deep dive into the creation of haute cuisine.

Though categorized as a documentary, Menus-PlaisirsLes Troisgros is unlike any nonfiction filmmaking I’ve seen before. It has no overt agenda, no narration, and there’s nothing heavy-handed about it. It’s a camera and a microphone, recording at the right place at the right time, simply catching one essential detail of the Troisgros family's culinary endeavors after another.

How these details are assembled is the real magic, and it’s hard to resist comparing the film’s structure to that of one of the family’s exquisite prix fixe dinners. It takes you through a audiovisual tasting menu with courses as varied as French cheesemaking, the philosophy of aesthetics, the labor of properly preparing offal, the breeding and milking cycles of goats, meditations on retirement, and the extraordinary efforts that go into anticipating the every need of diners at a Michelin 3-star restaurant.

While watching, I jotted down words that captured my impressions of what I was seeing, including:

Subtle. Precise. Intentional. Honest. Clear. Openhearted. Accommodating.

Modern life so often feels determined to confound such desirable traits. Because of this, while Menus-Plaisirs four-hour runtime may initially seem like a challenge, it finishes like a gift.

A man is standing in the center of a room with shelves of rinds of cheese surrounding him. The man is standing behind a table, cleaning one of the rinds of cheese.

A few additional thoughts, informed by some of my experiences with the food world:

  • The Troisgros family and its chefs shop for many of the ingredients for their restaurants at a seemingly commonplace market in a nondescript French town. The idea that ingredients of Michelin restaurant quality are so readily accessible to anyone is enviable. 
  • While dining experiences that cost in excess of 300 euros per person are undoubtedly an extraordinary luxury, the sum total of thought and effort that goes into the creation of the meals and the experience that surrounds them, at least as illustrated by the film, makes a pretty good argument for their overall value proposition.
  • The chaos that is often found in restaurant kitchens is replaced by an almost eerie silence under the Troisgros family’s oversight. Their battalion of chefs isn’t hurried, but calm, methodical, and precise. If you’ve seen The Bear—a series set in Chicago and roundly lauded by the American restaurant community for its raucous verisimilitude—watch Menus-Plaisirs as a calming and life-affirming counterpoint.
  • Part of this serenity must be due to the pleasantness and spaciousness of the kitchen layout itself. Natural light fills it, and the floor-to-ceiling windows expose meadows and woods where chefs forage for ingredients.
  • The respect that Japanese and French culinary communities have for each other is well known, and it’s satisfying to see how cleverly the Troisgros integrates Japanese ingredients and influences into an otherwise proudly French aesthetic.
  • The videography expresses the luscious beauty of food at all stages of preparation, from sourcing to final plating, without coming off as gratuitous or flashy. It’s a refreshing change from the insistent "Look at me!" tone of modern American food media.
     

Images courtesy of Zipporah Films

Blog home