JAY RAYNER
Having just released his latest book, My Last Supper, restaurant critic Jay Rayner chatted to Elin Evans about food fads, death row dinners, and his views on the Cardiff restaurant scene.
Your new book My Last Supper: One Meal, A Lifetime In The Making grew out of being asked repeatedly about your dream death-row meal. Why did you decide to write this book now?
I’m consistently asked this question, but I’m also fascinated by it, so I thought I should investigate. Plus, I’ve been doing this job for 20 years, so it was worth marking that by stepping back and saying “Who am I? What would happen if I decided to go for this meal?” It’s a fun vehicle for memoir.
The foods we’re attracted to are the ones we have an emotional attachment to.
As part of the show, I ask the audience to tweet me their last supper and get some beautiful stories. One of the sweetest comments I got was a chap who said, “I would go and knock on the door of the house where my grandma used to live and ask if I could sit on the back step and eat a Dairylea triangle.” And that’s a man recalling a moment from his childhood when he felt safe and loved. Although, some people when I ask for their last suppers come back with what is clearly an attempt to signal their connoisseurship: “I would have this Montrachet with that caviar…” And I think, “Really? Because I wouldn’t.”
What’s your first memory of food?
As a very small boy, under sheets and blankets – this was pre-duvet – being fed broken-up buttered toast with soft boiled eggs. I must’ve been under two, and it was just a little eggy something on a tray. It’s a classic first memory of food, something we associate with being cared for.
How have you found performing this more personal, serious material?
I’ve loved it actually! The show’s built around five monologues of stories of my life, and it’s closer to theatre than anything I’ve ever done. I can’t act, but I suppose the part I’m playing is myself, so it’s not very hard to get to the heart of it. I enjoy telling stories.
Over the past 20 years of reviewing restaurants, what are some of the best fads in the culinary scene you’ve seen?
The best one is going on right now, and it’s a growing confidence among young cooks that they can go it alone, without having to go through grand kitchens for many years. The small-scaled independent restaurant, with a short, changing menu, is a glorious thing. In London, outside the centre, young chefs are going, “I don’t need to be in the West End to have a restaurant. I can drop my prices and keep my menu tight and changing, because a menu just needs to be a piece of paper.” That’s brilliant.
And the worst?
The worst are places that feel that eating out can only work if it’s attended by frivolities which have nothing to do with the food. They’re throwing ridiculous money into that, which they then must earn back, so the high price you pay is not for the food. It’s a cheap win for me to say, “I hate things not served on plates.” But it’s true! If you think your dish is only going to be appealing if it’s served on a trowel, then there’s something wrong with your dish.
Last time you came to Cardiff, you reviewed The Classroom…
Yes, that ended well, didn’t it?
Have you come back here since?
The reality is, if you have one of these high perches – which I do – you deal with an awful lot of stuff on social media. Every weekend when my review comes out, I wait to find out what terrible mistake I’ve made. My comment, which I held to at the time, was that, for a city the size of Cardiff, the really good eating options, worthy of note, were not as numerous as they should be. There were quite a few people who went, “You know, he’s right!” But then there was also this vociferous reaction of, “How dare you!”
So, I thought, “I don’t need this. If I’m going to go back to the city worrying every time that I’m going to get a deluge of abuse, then there are many other places in the UK I can go to. So, perhaps I will.” Although, I admit I was slightly controversial with that Bristol line – that was bad! But I will say that I know of a bunch of places that have opened since then, and my intention when I come back [to Cardiff] for the show is to review again.
Is there a certain dish you’ll use to gauge how good a restaurant is?
No. I have dishes I might keep an eye out for, but so many styles of cooking are so different. Although, if I’m in a restaurant offering a very country-French menu, and they offer a cassoulet, I’m going to order it – partly because I really like cassoulet. But also, because it’s a very specific thing which requires a lot of care and attention. The thing I always say is, I’m not a food critic; I’m a restaurant critic. I’m going to review the whole thing and tell you how much pleasure your money can buy.
How do you choose the restaurants you go to?
It’s very simple, I’ll be looking for which one I think I can get the most interesting 1,100 words out of. I have to write an interesting column and I’m not here to sell restaurants. I will be looking for somewhere I hope is good. I don’t seek out places I think will be bad.
You play jazz piano in your own Jay Rayner Quartet, so music is obviously very important to you. If you had to pick three songs to put on your soundtrack for your last supper, what would they be?
I include a soundtrack in the book, but if I’m only allowed three, I think it would have to be Fats Waller’s Ain’t Misbehavin’, which was one of the first tunes that really got me into jazz piano. Then, Frank Sinatra’s Fly Me To The Moon from Sinatra At The Sands, which is a very specific live recording accompanied by an orchestra under the baton of a very young Quincy Jones. Finally, and not for the reason you’d think, it would be my own quartet doing The Ladies Who Lunch by Stephen Sondheim. I think the singer on that track does a brilliant job – and the singer is my wife!
If you had to have your nightmare meal, what chef do you think would prepare it for you?
I think it’d have to be someone I was deeply suspicious of, so I’d probably get Marco Pierre White to do it. He seems to have majored in turning his name into a brand, on restaurants which aren’t really worthy of our time. It’s a shame because, obviously, he’s a gifted chef and an immense talent, so it seems strange to me that he’d be willing to put his name to so many lacklustre restaurants. One of the great stories to come out of my review of The Classroom was the announcement that Marco Pierre White was opening a restaurant in Cardiff, but I would not be invited!
Due to coronavirus, this show is now postponed until 8 Sept 2020 – all tickets for the March show will be valid for this amended date. Info: 029 2064 6900 / www.shermantheatre.co.uk
