Naked lunch
The year of French culture in China got under way a few months ago amid much fanfare. The publicist called it an opportunity to showcase French people's 'superb achievements in the cultural field'.
Craving to belong to the culturally sophisticated, China's nouveau riche, who are already clad in Dior and carry Louis Vuitton bags, can now pay an average of 800 yuan per person for a French dining experience in a new restaurant in the heart of Beijing.
Gaddis, the namesake of the fine dining at the Peninsula in Hong Kong, grandly promises the ultimate chic dining experience. The problem with this kind of hype, however, is that sophistication can easily slide into pretension. The more the decor and food are touted, the closer they become to being the emperor's new clothes.
The restaurant features floor-to-ceiling picture windows which look out on to the impersonal concrete shopping and office complex next to the Grand Hyatt Hotel. A bar in the main dining hall makes the place look more like a bistro than a place for exquisite dining.
Waiters wearing long aprons move awkwardly around like stage hands in a show that does not bother to bridge the cultural gap between a garcon and a fuwuyuan. Billed as a place for authentic French dining, the Gallic accent is somehow missing - despite the presence of a French chef. The attitude seems to be: 'As long as the Chinese think it is French, it is French.'
Before the restaurant's grand opening, I posed a country-bumpkin-style question: 'What kind of French food are you going to serve?'
'We serve traditional French food,' said a stylish female manager.
'Are you going to serve pain perdu (French toast)?'
'If it is traditional, it could be on the menu.'
An English-language dining-out guide available in hotel lobbies shouts out the fact that the emperor is, in fact, naked. 'High-end French cuisine that can't live up to its hype,' it says. For example, the theatrical tableside preparation of the Cesar salad (is it French?) was marred when the waiter sprinkled processed parmesan cheese from a green canister into the dressing. The chef admitted that the vegetables were local, but the fish, lamb and beef were imported from France.
Unfortunately, the China Daily gets really carried away with the French haute cuisine at the Gaddis, which it calls 'authentically original'. The crepes suzette is helpfully described as 'crepes ignited with Grand Marnier'. But the piece de resistance is the caption for the recommended: 'Goose Live and Lobster Terrine.' Personally, I prefer my goose dead.
