November 2022: HAIL, ANDRÉ SOLTNER!
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For the past two years, The Kitchen Scholar had been exalting foundational gourmet chefs like Pierre Franey and Jean Vergnes, and food writers such as Julia Child, Craig Claiborne, and Marion Cunningham, most of whom are celebrated for their well-spent lives and long-lasting legacies during their centennial commemorations. Such a shame for myself that I had yet to celebrate living legends whose very existence continues to inspire our penchant for delicious home cooking. Taking these living legends for granted ends this month when the website offers a toast to André Soltner, who will be 90 come the 20th of November, and thus, it is my utmost pleasure to cook from his magnificent book, The Lutèce Cookbook, as a token of gratitude and appreciation.
Since its closure in 2004, Lutèce had gone rarely spoken of again for more than a decade. Frankly, I never heard any mention of the Manhattan restaurant during my three-year residence in the United States (likely because the Twin Cities were miles away from the influence of New York, and I was mingling with the wrong disinterested circle) from 2010 to 2013. The nostalgic name re-entered the stream of American gastronomic consciousness much recently, perhaps due to its several episode cameos throughout the successful run of Mad Men. Memories of the dining experience at Lutèce were further triggered when Gabriel Kreuther opened his successful Michelin-starred restaurant that earned a comparison from Cottages & Gardens. A new “Lutèce”, revamped from Café Bonaparte, had also surfaced in 2019 and, just two months ago, was ranked among “America’s Best New Restaurants” according to The New York Times, yet this reboot, located around the Georgetown area of Washington D.C. had to distance and absolve itself from the original brand since the moniker was actually what the Julius Caesar and his ancient Romans used to call the Gallic capital of Paris, after all.
Just what made the dining experience at the original Lutèce magical enough to trigger a Proustian trip to memory lane? Was it the luring traffic of the “Who’s who” among the rich, famous, and influential clientele? Was it how the beguiling facade at 249 East 50th Street led guests to simulated microcosms of Parisian gardens, parks, and salons? Was it the praiseworthy haute cuisine that earned the restaurant countless awards and won over reputable food critics such as Raymond Solokov, Mimi Sheraton, Bryan Miller, and the late Gael Greene? If the answer to all these questions are a resounding yes, then the man responsible for those indelible mental souvenirs is André Soltner.
