Reaching the top of your field is what we all dream of: to win that Oscar, to bask in peer-drenched admiration. Richard’s been there, so in our latest instalment for paid subscribers, we explore the issue of recognition: its value, its impact and the effect on one’s humility. Essential reading. - Daniel Clarke-Serret (editor)
Contents (to date):
Chapter 1: Ambition // Chapter 2: Faith // Chapter 3: Loyalty //Chapter 4: Struggle // Chapter 5: Sovereignty // Chapter 6: Creativity // Chapter 7: Shame // Chapter 8: Exclusivity // Chapter 9: Recognition
OBSERVATIONS FROM THE KITCHEN by Richard Neat
Chapter 9: RECOGNITION
Tian of Skate Wing and Crab and Cucumber Velouté
“Through esteeming alone is there value: and without esteeming, the nut of existence would be hollow. Hear this you creators!” Nietzsche.
The boat rocked gently at its mooring. Small waves lapped idly against its sides, hopelessly out-of-tune with the riff the crickets, playing their impromptu concert amongst the olive trees. A languid breeze sniffed unenthusiastically around the cove as the cloudless afternoon sky challenged this patch of Mediterranean Sea for “Most Spectacular Tone of Blue” award. Nature and the boats occupants had colluded in passing a lazy afternoon. Welcome to Millionaires Bay.
The Cook admired the Scotsman enormously and felt privileged to consider him a friend. Whether it was his writing or his sculpting work, he exhibited a poignancy and thoughtfulness that was rare and made a lasting impression. Thankfully, it appeared that many people, some even without the direction of an efficacious Public Relations team, thought so too. In short, The Scotsman bathed in the recognition of people he respected and wanted to be respected by.
The Cook finished his swimming and clambered back on board the boat. The Scotsman was pouring an ice-cold Gewürztraminer, which they all agreed would work perfectly with the dish The Cook had brought along.
Live crabs had been boiled in salted water before leaving them to cool naturally. Once cold, he had picked the white meat from the claws and legs and mixed it with a very thick mayonnaise. To this he added a little finely chopped shallot, chives and seasoned it with salt, pepper and lemon juice. The brown flesh from inside the shell needed to be ‘hung’ to drain off the maximum amount of liquid, then passed and seasoned with lemon juice, salt and pepper and a spoonful of mayonnaise.
E3xB6
Though the victory might be certain, White should consider the style of the ending.
The Scotsman loved good food and was a fan of The Cook’s work so it seemed apparent that the causal relation between recognition and reward was responsible for this invitation to the paradisiacal Millionaires Bay. Despite being a capitalist apostate, The Cook still liked to use the word earn. He thought he had a wonderful girlfriend because he’d been sufficiently kind and considerate —whatever it was that women wanted, to earn and keep her love.
Sufficiently decent to earn his excellent circle of friends. Sufficiently skilled to earn the clientele. That was how it worked didn’t it? That was how the entire, beautiful idea of reciprocity worked? You received back because you behaved, or produced what someone else expected. You earned it.
The Cook, basking in his good fortune, thought it best to pursue this ‘acknowledgment’ thing. The recent press coverage celebrating The Cook becoming the first Englishman to win a star in France would, with any luck, go a long way to that end.
“So you’ve had a lot of extra business because of the star?” inquired the Scotsman.
