Daniel Rogov wrote:Chef.....
I'll do a swap with you. You describe for me the critic's job description ....."you know, what you think a critic does with the hours of his day and what his responsibilities are" and then I'll go on to give my description of the chef's job description.
Perhaps we should both also respond to whether the sophisticated diner or equallly sophisticated reader has the need to know precisely what you or I do with the hours of our days? And of course, conments (regardless of whether they know or care about our job descriptions) of what we think are their expectations of us.
P.S. Shortly after 1 a.m. here and for the moment at least, to the devil with my job description and responsibilities. It is time for sleep. See you anon.
A Day in the Life of a Restaurant Critic
Mr. Rogov arises at…well, hell…he gets up whenever he wants to. His valet brings him two eggs, soft-boiled exactly three minutes and served in matching silver egg cups. His toast points have the crust trimmed off. The valet then carefully removes the tops of the eggs with the antique silver egg-cutter. Mr. Rogov stirs while the valet lays out his tailored Italian suit and draws his bath.
After breakfast, Mr. Rogov then takes his private elevator down to the pool where he is attended by numerous scantily clad nymphs who cater to his every whim. He smokes two Cuban cigars that he lights with crisp hundred dollar bills.
He shortly tires of the naiad's devotion and calls for his secretary - who schedules the nightly culinary events – to join him poolside. They plan the evening's work. That three minutes done with he returns to his palatial penthouse where the valet dresses him.
The luncheon with royalty from a half dozen European nations is tiresome to him.
He returns to his penthouse for the 3:00 PM appointment with his masseuse. After his scrub down by the three female Japanese bath attendants, he has a brief sauna and a four-hour nap.
His manicurist and barber arrive. Ablutions complete the valet dresses him once again.
His driver pulls up his Rolls Silver Ghost at precisely 8:00 PM.
After a leisurely four-hour meal at his private table at El Bulli he grows weary from the day's exertions. Several eunuchs carry his lectica to the Rolls.
Just before dozing off he dictates the review to his man who will have it neatly typed and ready for him in the morning.