LEW Kathreptis is outrageous. Never mind the profiles in glossy food magazines or national newspapers. Or the photo of him bear-hugging a dinner plate.
The burly 36-year-old food-lover from Adelaide isn't shy about calling pasta spaghetti. His hands would never be conscripted to shave chocolate curlicues or arrange a sliver of this, a sprig of that. They belong on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
He detests fussy food and precious portions and loves anyone who lives and eats with passion. Among them are mentor food writers, Claudia Roden, Paula Wolfert and Stephanie Alexander.
What comes closest to his idea of heaven is a no-holds-barred picnic under olive trees in Tuscany, a hand-to-mouth stroll through the markets in Marrakesh, a jug of wine and a bowl of ripe tomatoes with basil on any seacoast in Turkey.
'Street food. That's the best food,' he insists. 'It's where the real flavours are.' Hong Kong gets a taste of Kathreptis' food combinations when beginning today the second-generation Greek presides over a six-day promotion at Bacchus in Wan Chai, then participates as guest chef next weekend in the Wines of the Pacific Rim Festival at the Hotel Furama.
Disillusionment in the visual arts world sent him on a wanderjahre. Travelling cleared his head and Greece, Morocco, Turkey, Italy and Spain reset his professional compass.
