01-02-2013

From Los Gatos to the end of the world

A portrait of the Californian David Kinch, a chef who narrates many worlds. In Milan soon

The entrance to Manresa in Los Gatos, a one hour d

The entrance to Manresa in Los Gatos, a one hour drive from San Francisco, tel. +1.(408).3544330. David Kinch’s restaurant uses Californian ingredients with techniques the chef has learned during his numerous experiences in France, Spain, Germany, Japan and United States. With two Michelin stars for the past 5 years, the restaurant is at number 48 in the World's 50 Best list

When the reader examines these lines, let him please imagine the author, sitting at the bar of the Copacabana Palace in Rio together with David Kinch, a straw hat hanging obliquely on his forehead. From Los Gatos to the end of the world, Kinch is, of all the Americans of whom Henry James wrote, the one that has most pushed love education far away from the doorstep. Of his legendary love for Europe, of his sceptical passardism, of his all-consuming Japan-philia there’s obviously a mark in his reverence for travel and for the grounding on himself.

We’ve never seen David happier than when he offered to show a custom-cut apple farm, a few squeals of tires away from his restaurant in California and surrounded by the hills where the Grateful Dead lived in a community (close by there was also Steve Jobs and those of Apple). It’s a hectare or so of nature awakening, an orchard of biodynamic miracles from which, thanks to the dedication of his collaborator Cynthia Sandberg, the stimuli of his vegetal universe arrive every day.

David Kinch in one of his biodynamic vegetable gardens in Los Gatos. His lesson is scheduled on Monday 11th February in the Auditorium. The theme: "The revolutionary value of respect "

David Kinch in one of his biodynamic vegetable gardens in Los Gatos. His lesson is scheduled on Monday 11th February in the Auditorium. The theme: "The revolutionary value of respect "

Between Santa Cruz, where he surfs on the crest of his Point Break to San Francisco Bay, a cultural seaport, David Kinch’s Manresa is the meeting point of a humanistic syncretism, of compelling or hinted-at flavours. Here every dish tells the story of a journey, of sunny meetings or epiphanies in the shades of the Rising Sun. Of Tubers and panna cotta with abalones, of dashi and foie gras, of Caviar quenelles with mashed Jerusalem artichoke, with sunflower seeds and spices as if he were making tandoori. At Manresa, you could perhaps meet Adrià, passing by, as guttural as ever. Perhaps you could also run into Ben Shewry o Mauro Colagreco, zThe Redzep, Dan Hunter o Alexandre Gauthier, tall people who shared his adventures and to whom Kinch opened the doors of his restaurant before all the food festivals, scattered around Planet Cuisine, did.

On the farthest outskirts of the empire, on the road towards the great South, true coherence happens, for Manresa, when thoughts follow the beat of the heart. With an extra touch of concept, like when the service, with a totally Mexican casting, takes to a mimesis in the dining room, with a controversial performance of the artist Santiago Serra. But those instants of sufferance are certainly the most beautiful American-style happy end in a broad sense – and also the most innate.


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