I bought The Perfectionist unseen on the recommendation of a friend, slightly in two minds on account of the fact that it's one of those books where you know at the outset what the ending will be. Reading the first few pages I also began to think it was a bit fawning for my taste: over-gushing on the subject of French cooking at a time when very many people would say France is no longer the gastronomic centre of the galaxy.
Then along came page nine, and Mr Chelminski's precise dissection of the French chefs' various attempts to fry the perfect egg. How completely wrong I'd been: the book is in fact a masterwork.
The Perfectionist is a, fantastically researched, truly insider's account of French haute cuisine. In looking at the life and career of Bernard L'Oiseau, Chelminsky, as fine a crafstman in his own calling as the chefs are in theirs, bones out the last seventy years of French restaurant dining in fantastic detail, before serving it up in, perfectly spiced, sauced, and plated, bite sized morsels for his readers. Undoubtedly the best book on cuisine I have ever read.