American Masters (1985–…): Season 31, Episode 5 - Jacques Pépin: The Art of Craft - full transcript

Bourdain: I believe that
before you were allowed to...

Be-before you have sex
with another human being,

you should be capable
of preparing them an omelette

to Jacques Pépin's standards
the next morning.

Wouldn't the world
be a better place?

A kinder place?

♪♪

Jacques:
Bang the omelette so that

it's really to the edge,
then you can invert it.

Tucci:
He came to America at a time
when chefs were the help,

and helped bring about
a revolution in American food.



Ray: Jacques Pépin!

Jacques: If you hit it there,
it will separate those cloves.

Now you can flip it.

Zakaria: Jacques Pépin really
was the first person

to land on the American scene
and say technique matters,

craft matters.

You have to learn how
to actually do something

and do it well.

Bourdain: He was there
at the birth of food television

as we know it.

Samuelsson: It was not the
coolest thing, to be a chef,

and he made it the profession
it is today in this country.

Tucci: His path was
uncharted and surprising:

a prodigy who cooked
for presidents and kings



and left it all behind.

Ray: It was more important
to him that he be part of

a wider scope, a broader story.

Tucci: An immigrant
who reinvented himself

and his profession
by writing its bible.

Meyer: He plays
a major pivotal role

in the whole arc of why
Americans love to cook,

love to go to restaurants,
love to watch food on TV.

Tucci: This is the story
of the unlikely American icon

with the French drawl,

who, with two hands,
helped shape a world of food.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Jacques: There is a Chinese
philosophy who say...

I'm paraphrasing...

That patriotism is the taste
of the dishes of our youth.

There is a great
deal of truth there.

Those tastes transcend the
physiological function of food.

Those tastes become love.

Those things mean home.

It means security.

It means family.

I remember that summer
during the Second World War

when I was six years old.

It was a hard time because we
really didn't have much to eat.

My mother took me
to a farm to stay the summer.

She knew that
they had food to eat,

and after my mother left,
I was pretty sad.

I was a little kid.

But then the farmer's wife

took me by the hand
and took me to the barn.

♪♪

And she said,
"Hey, petit," you know,

"little guy, drink that,"

so, I drank that,
and it was good.

That maybe
changed my life forever

and determined my career.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Tucci:
For young Jacques Pépin,
growing up in Central France,

the warm memories of food
were inseparable

from the harsh memories
of World War II.

Jacques's father, Jean-Victor,
a fine-woodworker by trade,

had left to join the Resistance,

only rarely sneaking back
into town for quick visits.

Jacques's mother, Jeannette,

worked as a waitress to feed
her three young boys.

Their house was bombed
three times,

by three different armies.

Peace came when
Jacques was nine,

reuniting the family
in their hometown,

not far from Lyon,

France's gastronomic capital.

Boulud:
What made that region special
was the richness of the land,

the richness of
the wine countries.

And chicken is a religion.

The entire region,
including Lyon,

eat the poulet a la crème
on Sunday.

And so that region
became a hub for people

to have a nice meal,
spend the night.

And in Lyon, a lot womens
also were cooking.

Jacques: I can count seven
restaurants in my family,

and seven of them owned
by woman.

My mother decided
to do a restaurant

when I was maybe five,
six years old.

We were involved
in it, of course.

The peeling of the vegetables,

the drawing of the wine
from the cellar.

It was the job of the kid.

I mean, I never remember
coming back from school

and telling my mother,
"I'm bored."

You're bored?

Are you kidding?

♪♪

In the morning, we went to Lyon,

and there was a big market there
and it's about a mile long.

It was, "Ah, Madame Pépin,

bonjour, bonjour."
They all knew her.

She would walk the whole market
and buy on her way back.

On the way back, she knew that

that case of mushroom
was getting dark,

that those tomatoes
were really soft,

so she bargained
to get it for half-price.

And that's probably why

I am such a miserly cook in the
kitchen, you know?

I learned never
to throw anything out.

You know, that was against
my religion inside.

Claudine: My grandmother
used to flip restaurants.

She would go find a restaurant
that was doing okay.

She'd make it great,
and then she'd sell it,

and then on to the next one.

Hardest-working woman
you could ever meet,

and really kind,
but no-nonsense.

She wasn't like "Oh," you know?

She was like "I love you.

That's great.
We have to get to work now."

And that's very much my father.
He's like,

"Of course I love you.
Okay, let's get to work."

♪♪

♪♪

Jacques: Any business which
involves manual dexterity,

you need to learn your trade;

you need to learn
your technique.

So whether you're a shoemaker
or a sculptor,

certainly a surgeon,

you need to know
the ficelles de métier,

you know,
the trick of the trade.

Just like in the kitchen,
if you do this,

then you have that
know-how in your hand.

My father was
a cabinet maker, so he...

I think he was a good artist.

He had a very good eye.

And his father
was a cabinet maker

and his brother was
a cabinet maker, my uncle,

so the whole family,
to a certain extent.

For me, the choice was easy.

It was either the kitchen
or cabinet maker.

I was more excited
by the kitchen.

The smell.
The art of cooking.

So I left school when I was 13

and went into an apprenticeship
about 40 miles from Lyon.

♪♪

Bourdain: They were kids
who slept under the stairwells

and were used
as copper polishers

and cleaners, scrubbers,
dishwashers, brow wipers.

This would be,
I think, illegal now.

I mean, it's called child labor.

But that was very much
the system back then.

You hazed and brutalized

and demeaned,
and yet also mentored.

Jacques:
The chefs, they do that,

and you say, "Yes,"
and you do it.

If you would say, "Why?"...

you would never dare
to say "Why?", anyway...

But if you had said, "Why?",
he would have said,

"Because I just told you."

And to a certain extent,
it's fine.

When you're 13 years old,

that's how you learn,
by osmosis.

Bourdain:
I know cooks who worked

at a Michelin Star
restaurant for years.

They were only allowed
to cook for the chef's dog.

And then, one day, suddenly,
it's "Pépin, you're on."

It's what you yearn for
and work for.

Tucci: For Jacques, that moment
came when he was just 16,

cooking a banquet
for a firemen's ball.

Jacques: I was the chef in the
kitchen for the first time.

The newspaper came.

They took a picture of me.

First time I was
in the local paper.

Big picture of me with my fish.

I was very proud of myself.

I started to realize that

I could put some of myself
in that food.

It didn't have to be
exactly the way my mother

want it to be, you know?

My dream was really
to go to Paris.

You have not completed
a real apprenticeship in France

before you go to Paris.

Tucci: Jacques was barely 17,
but he packed a suitcase,

told his mother
he had a job lined up...

He didn't...

And moved, by himself,
to the capital.

Jacques: Paris, well, of course,
overwhelming, but very exciting.

I ended up right away working
from one place to another.

I probably worked
at over 100 restaurants

in Paris, from one restaurant

to another restaurant,
to another restaurant,

learning that old background
of classical cooking.

But then I went
to the Plaza Athénée,

which was probably
the biggest brigade,

or brigade, like in the Army.

We were 48 chefs in the kitchen.

The executive chef
is called Monsieur.

He's on top.

The chefs there all worked
with Escoffier, of course,

and all the great French chefs,

so I knew that there
was a lot to learn.

♪♪

The emphasis was on technique,
on manual dexterity,

how to do that fast and well,
according to the habit

of the house,
without any deviation.

There was a system of rules,
certain dogma to cooking.

At the Plaza Athénée,
we cooked a tomato this way.

The stem of the tomato is there.

You cut the tomato this way.

I would never have thought
of turning the tomato,

cutting it the other way.

Now, with the young chef,

they practically want
to sign that dish,

make sure that I am
the one who did it.

At that time, no.
It was conforming.

"Conforming" was the word.

We cooked at night,
and, of course,

at 2:00 in the morning,
we came out and we went out.

♪♪

We went out dancing at night.

We went out
to the bal populaire.

We knew all the bars.

Of course, all the prostitutes
in the bar

that we could
say hello to, fine,

because they were
all over the place.

Yeah, um, couldn't afford them,
but we could go in to say hello.

And I remember going dancing.

You invite a young lady
to dance.

You dance.
They'd say, "What do you do?"

"I'm a cook at the
Plaza Athénée,"

you know, that...

Nothing to do with
the prestige of the cook now.

And any good mother
would have wanted her child

to marry the doctor or a lawyer,
certainly not a cook.

Man: Violence is
mounting in Algeria.

Bombings and death are
a daily part of life

and the death toll
averages 30 a day.

Tucci: In the mid-1950s,

France was embroiled in
a controversial war in Algeria.

Jacques was drafted
into the Navy,

and it appeared
his carefree days in Paris

would end in combat.

But he got a lucky break:

because his older brother Roland
was already on the front,

Jacques was assigned
to stay in Paris,

as a cook at Navy headquarters.

Word spread
about the accomplished

restaurant chef in their midst,

and Jacques was soon creating
special dinners for top brass.

Bourdain: He's a guy
who clearly stands apart

from others in his profession.

I think he was recognized
as special

at every stage in his career,
singled out.

This is an unusually
hardworking, intelligent guy.

Tucci: Jacques so
impressed his superiors

that he was quickly
assigned to be the sole chef

in France's version
of the White House,

called Hôtel Matignon.

Jacques:
At some point, we were having
more sophisticated dinner,

so I told the people
in charge there,

I said, "I need someone
to work with me.

I need another chef."

Szurdak: I went in the Army,
like every French man,

and the sergeant come.
He said,

"The Captain wanted to see you."

I said, "Me?"

He said, "Yeah. You."

Because the chef in the Matignon
needed a pastry chef.

So they take me to Matignon

and le commandant
take me to the kitchen.

He said,
"You just wait over here."

I came in that room
through another door

and I said, "Attention!"

He jumped to attention.

He was already terrorized.

So I turned around and said,
"Hah-hah! My friend, hm-hm."

Oh, my God!

I like that and my leg's
doing like this.

I said, "What kind of animal
this guy is?

He's the chef."

And he turned around me,
and looking, "Uh-huh."

So, I went like that for about
a couple of minutes and I said,

"Hey, you want a glass
of red or white?"

He looked at me,
didn't know what it was.

And then we became friends.

Yeah, I played a joke on him.

Tucci: It was the beginning
of a lifelong friendship,

one that started in the kitchen

and where they have returned,
time and again,

over six decades.

Szurdak: Mm-mm.

Tucci: In the kitchen
of Hôtel Matignon,

Jacques and Jean-Claude
would soon be cooking

for a succession
of French heads of state,

including France's greatest
war hero, Charles de Gaulle.

Jacques:
De Gaulle was very impressive,

probably because
he was very tall.

You know, 6'4 ", 6'5",

and also because
he was basically blind.

People don't realize.
So he had his head like that.

He'd walk on. You know?

But, frankly, I dealt
with men like de Gaulle,

who call me "Petit Jacques."

They're very mundane, usually.

We did the menu for the week.

I served Nehru, Tito,
Macmillan, Eisenhower,

who were the head of state
at the time.

♪♪

Szurdak: The caviar.
We had it like

one kilo of caviar every day.

You make canapés.

It was the horn of plenty,
good food.

Jacques:
A pheasant inverted,

with all truffle
around and stuff.

Things that would be
impossible to do.

I mean, it would cost
a fortune to do that.

And it was a great,
great apprenticeship for me.

Types of dishes which were done

in the 19th century, during...

Escoffier that you cannot
do anymore.

And we doing that on the plate
of Marie Antoinette,

that you have to be very
careful not to break one.

De Gaulle certainly
was very nice with me,

but that stopped there.

You would never, never,
be introduced to the guests.

You would never go
to the dining room.

No one ever came to the kitchen,
unless something was wrong.

So the cook was still really

at the bottom
of the social scale.

Tucci: By the time
his Navy service was over,

Jacques was 23

and had been behind a stove
for 10 straight years.

He was itching
for a change of scene.

Jacques: I was excited
by going abroad,

by learning a new language.

America was the Golden Fleece,
you know?

It was the promised land
for many people after the war,

and me included.

Tucci:
He convinced Jean-Claude

that they should try their luck
as cooks in America.

This time, he told
his mother the truth:

He didn't have a job lined up,
but was heading off

for what he thought would be
a year-long adventure.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Cowin:
In America, in the 1950s,

the food was frozen.

We had discovered these
shortcuts to making food fast.

We're talking about
the home cook now.

The home cook was so excited

to get through their tasks
of the day in the kitchen.

The kitchen was
a place of drudgery.

Jacques: The first time that I
went into a real supermarket,

well, I thought it was
a fantastic idea.

However, there was
basically no vegetables.

I remember going there
and saying,

"Where are all the mushrooms?"

"Aisle 5."
Aisle 5 was canned mushrooms.

Cowin: When you look
at the restaurant scene,

the most famous places
were fancy and French.

There was no Italian, even.

The idea of going out

to a restaurant
for American food?

Ridiculous.

So when Jacques came to America,

he was a master

in a country that was looking
for more of them.

Because in America, in the '50s,

let me tell you,
we were not minting masters.

Tucci: Armed with references

from some of France's
most revered chefs,

Jacques was hired on the spot
on his very first interview.

Freedman: Le Pavillon was the
undisputed greatest restaurant

in the United States
for much of the 20th century.

It was a beautiful,
distinguished-looking place,

certainly not a place
where you would want

to have forgotten your tie,
if you were a man.

Jacques: All of the great
artists of the time were there,

and all the celebrities.

The Kennedy family were there.

The Duke and Duchess of Windsor.

Tucci: Jacques was cooking
for America's elite,

and his reputation
started to spread

among the Pavillon regulars.

Man:
Do you serve many meals here?

Kennedy: Yes. This is where
all the state dinners

and lunches are given.

Tucci: In 1960,
the newly elected First Family

offered him the keys to Camelot:

the plum role
of White House chef.

It was a dream job,
but not for someone

who had already cooked enough
state dinners for a lifetime.

Jacques: I turned it down
and then they called me again

a couple of weeks after
to ask me again

if I wanted to go,
and I decided not to go.

I went to Howard Johnson.

Singer: ♪ On the road
around the corner ♪

♪ Here's the place to go ♪

♪ The orange roof
of Howard Johnson's ♪

♪ join the folks who know ♪

♪ Howard Johnson's ♪

♪ Next stop ♪

Bourdain: Really,
Howard Johnson's?

But we forget
how revolutionary a concept

Howard Johnson's
was at the time.

These family restaurants
that would be everywhere,

consistent, connected by all
the highways of America.

And it must've seemed,
to an open-minded young chef,

a place of unlimited
possibilities.

Freedman: Howard Johnson's
served more people

at that time than
any other institution

except the US Army.

Tucci: Howard Johnson's name
may have been synonymous

with middle-class American food,

but the man himself
was a gourmet.

He'd been a regular patron
at Le Pavillon.

Johnson recruited Jacques
to be the company's director

of research and development.

His first assignment?

A few weeks working undercover.

Jacques: Mr. Johnson said,
"Well, if Jacques wants to work,

he's got to work in one
of our restaurants,"

so I went there to start
flipping burgers

behind the stove.

The whole group in the kitchen
were African American.

Working with them... they never
heard of Le Pavillon, of course.

They couldn't even care
who de Gaulle

or the French government were.

So I wasn't really a big star,
but you know, like any kitchen,

you have to pull your weight,
and that's what I did.

In a couple of weeks,
I could flip burger

and do French fries as fast
or faster than anyone else,

so that's how you get respect,
you know,

in the kitchen, still, now.

Bourdain:
How few French chefs of the time

did not hold American food
in utter contempt.

None.
As far as I know.

He's not a snob.

And I think he was
one of the first

to see the possibilities
in American products

and in American recipes
and preparations.

Tucci:
Soon, Jacques was working
in the company's test kitchen,

joining Chef Pierre Franey,
whom Howard Johnson

had also lured away
from Le Pavillon.

Jacques:
He said, "Pierre, Jacques,

you do whatever you want.
You have free hand."

The fried clam?
We made it better.

They used margarine.
We changed to butter.

We used fresh onions
instead of dehydrated onion.

All kinds of recipes
we started doing it.

Seafood Newberg,
beef Burgundy, beef Stroganoff.

We'd do five pounds
in the test kitchen.

I'd start charging.
Then 150 pounds,

and we end up with 3,000 pounds

of beef Burgundy
in a 500-gallon kettle.

Szurdak: Jacques said,
on my day off, he said,

"Why don't you come with me
and you'll see where we work?"

My goodness.
A pot to boil things.

You have to take a ladder

and go up and see
the way it's boiling.

I'd never seen all these things.

So I said, "Well, it's good
because he's learning

like a new trade in America."

Jacques: Because I was
director of research,

I had to establish recipes.

I had to explain
how do you make that.

I learned marketing,
mass production, American taste.

It set up my life
for the future.

Zakaria:
The Howard Johnson experience

tells me that Jacques Pépin,
deep down, is an American.

Because here's this guys
who's cooked for de Gaulle,

who's cooked at Pavillon,

the great temples
of old cuisine,

and then he gets a chance
to do something on a scale

that is completely different.

Taking cooking and mixing it
with mass-consumer capitalism.

In some ways, it is
the ultimate expression

of Jacques Pépin
as an entrepreneur.

♪♪

Jacques: I'm gonna do a menu.
I'm going to draw that.

Menus are a nice memento.

And I have 10 big books
of menus at home.

You know, when I first
came to America,

I went to Columbia University
and I loved it.

I had some choice
to take a couple of classes

where I wanted.

I said, "Oh, I'd love to learn
how to draw a little bit."

So I took class,
and I guess I got the bug.

I had a bit of a complex
about not having an education.

And I started at Columbia.

I enrolled in the English
for foreign students,

then went to the next level,
then the next level.

Columbia gave me
great confidence.

I was doing what I wanted to do.

I was better in my skin.

Tucci: After getting
a BA and a Master's,

Jacques was on
the verge of a PhD,

but his thesis topic,

food in French literature,
was rejected.

Taking food seriously was
still a radical idea,

except among Jacques's
tight-knit group of friends,

mavericks who were about
to spark

an American food revolution.

Jacques:
The food world was very,
very small at that point.

I had met Craig Claiborne,

who just started working
at The New York Times,

the food critic and food editor.

So you know, within six,
eight months I was here,

I knew the trinity of cooking:

James Beard, Julia Child,
and Craig Claiborne.

And Craig Claiborne was for me

the most influential
of all of them.

I loved Craig.

I came to his house
in East Hampton.

It was so open, so casual.

It was really, really what
cooking should be about:

that communion between friends,

a lot of drinking,

and then the sharing of food
with all the guests.

And there was no social strata.

We mingled together
without any differences,

and for me,
that was an eye opener

and certainly one of the reasons
that I stayed in America

and became an American citizen.

Those were some of
the best years of life,

without any question.

Gloria: Well, I picked him up
on the ski slope.

We were both skiing
in the same ski area.

I was ski patrol.

He was in the ski school.

He had a nice bun.

He had long sideburns

and I wasn't sure whether
we was straight or gay

because he was so good-looking.

But I said,
"I'll give it a shot."

And I booked
a private lesson with him,

even though I could ski
better than he could.

And, all the way down
on the mountain,

he was beating on my legs
with a ski pole.

"Bend your knees.
Knees into the hill."

He found so many things
wrong with my skiing.

So I never got to first base.

So I had to take
a second lesson.

And then, our second day,
he invited me to his apartment

and he cooked dinner.

And it was wonderful.

But it was all stuff
from Howard Johnson's.

I didn't know that.

He just reheated
this beef bourguignon

and then I finally found out
who he was and what he did.

♪♪

We had no money.

Craig decided to do our wedding.

All his chef friends cooked.

He was in the kitchen 20 minutes
before we got married.

They finally threw him out

and said, "Hey, you better
get dressed,"

you know, "you're getting
married."

♪♪

Jacques:
This is my people's wall,

all people important in my life.

This is Jean-Claude
for his wedding.

This is Claudine
when she was small.

I put a chef's hat on her.

We had the baby.

Tucci: The growing family
settled upstate,

where Jacques's talent
for carpentry,

painting, and foraging

transformed an abandoned house
into a kind of rural utopia.

Bramson: Jacques and Gloria
had a marvelous life.

I mean, they were
mushroom-hunting.

Jacques was catching frogs
at midnight in the pond.

He was gardening.
He was building stone walls.

He was painting.

From the rafters,
you have hams curing.

The fish were smoking.

It was almost a fantasy
for the rest of us,

but it was so natural

because this is how he grew up.

♪♪

Zakaria:
Key to Jacques is the fact
that he's an immigrant.

You come with a certain drive.

You come with a desire
to make it.

You come with
a passion about America.

You're also leaving behind
something.

There is a loss.

But more than anything else,
it brings a certain kind

of determination
that he's always had,

a kind of fire in your belly
that just doesn't go away.

♪♪

Tucci: After a decade
at Howard Johnson's,

Jacques struck out on his own,
opening an innovative lunch spot

in the heart of Manhattan
that served just one thing:

soup.

La Potagerie was an instant hit

and got him his first
taste of media attention.

Man: Let's all play
"What's My Line?"!

♪♪

Bruner:
Well, now, how many different
types of soup do you serve

at the...?
Jacques: Well, at La Potagerie,

we serve about 17 soups now,
but we sell three a day.

Rayburn:
They're terrific, Wally.

I've eaten there
a number of times.

Bruner: Oh, so you should be
almost an expert on them, right?

Rayburn: Well,
they're very good.

They got good,
thick, peasant soups,

you know, with chunks
of meat in them.

Shalit: Meat of peasants.
- Rayburn: Yeah.

Jacques: What do you
associate with breakfast?

Woman: Bacon.
- Jacques: Bacon.

Woman: I associate, uh,
ham and bacon.

Jacques: And bacon.
- Woman: Anything else

you like to add.
- Jacques: Oatmeal. Yeah.

Woman: How come you are so cute?

Tucci: It was a happy,
heady time for Jacques.

After 15 years in America,
it seemed he'd hit his stride,

professionally, and at home.

Jacques: One day there in July,
actually, of 1974,

I had played tennis
for five hours a day.

And on the way back, I was
going probably way too fast.

A deer came out of nowhere
and I tried to avoid it and...

fling all around the road

and land upside down
on the other side.

I saw some flames starting.
So the window was open.

I crawled outside
and then I passed out.

They came out to investigate
and called the rescue squad

and took me to the hospital.

I broke my back, my two hips,
my pelvis in five places,

leg, arm.

Gloria: I rode down
to the hospital in the ambulance

'cause they didn't think
he would live.

Then I started talking
to the doctor

and the doctor
wouldn't speak to me.

- "- We have to keep him alive.
- Go away."

And then I had to sign a paper
'cause they were gonna

amputate his arm,
'cause it was such a bad break.

Szurdak: He was close
to passed away, you know?

Gloria said then,

"The doctors don't want
to do anything for three days.

If he survives that,
they will operate.

Claudine: My father was
in the hospital

for many, many, many months

and I remember him coming home
and I remember him being thin.

Gloria: He didn't know
if he'd walk again,

which, he proved them wrong,

but he knew he couldn't stand
behind a stove anymore,

because of his hip
and leg problems.

Jacques: So life changed for me
completely at that point,

but then I started picking up,

walking again, with a limp,
with crutches, and with a cane,

but that kind of certainly
was a catalyst to push my life

in a different direction.

Tucci: Settling into
a more manageable life

in Connecticut,
Jacques turned to writing.

He had spent years
watching Americans cook

and was convinced they were
missing something very basic.

Jacques: I may not have
thought of telling people

how to peel a carrot
or whatever.

I thought it was a given.
People know that.

But they'd say, "Oh, that's
how you peel a carrot?"

I'd say, "Yes."

Bramson: And he just kept seeing
that everybody did

all these things not quite right

and somehow there is a bar,
there is a way to do things,

and he wanted to show that way.

So Jacques had
this book in mind.

Tucci: Working in his home
kitchen with a photographer

taking some 6,000 pictures,
Jacques demonstrated everything

from basic butchery
to fine decoration.

It was an entirely new idea:

a cookbook without recipes.

He called it simply
"La Technique."

Bramson: Jacques deconstructed
all the moments

in which your hands
and food interact.

The breadth and depth of his
knowledge is really astounding.

I don't know anybody
who could do what he did

and he created a bible.

Szurdak:
Nobody told him what to do.

He knew it at the time.

That's what every new chef
should know.

Colicchio:
As a young 15-year-old,

sitting in my kitchen
in Elizabeth, New Jersey,

this book opened up this idea

of the possibility
of what cooking could be.

And I think what he said was,
"Don't treat this as a cookbook.

Treat it as an apprenticeship"
and I really took that to heart.

And so I would work
through the book.

I would go out and buy celery,

'cause it was really
inexpensive,

and practice knife skills.

And, you know, there's also
some funny stuff in there, too,

like how to make
a rabbit out of an olive.

That was always like
a little parlor trick, you know?

You can impress
your girlfriend, like,

"Hey, look what I can do
with an olive."

Back then, the idea of a chef
was someone in a wifebeater

with a cigarette hanging out of
their mouth, stirring red sauce.

And my career could've gone
that direction,

but "La Technique"
clearly informed me

that there was a lot
more out there,

so it just completely
opened these doors.

Cowin: You look at Julia Child
and she was introducing you

to a world around food
and the dishes themselves,

but what Jacques did was
he deconstructed how to do it,

so that you could
feel empowered.

It's the greatest
novel of empowerment,

but it happens to be a cookbook.

Tucci: "La Technique"
became a classic,

never going out of print.

He followed it up
with "La Methode"

and expanded them in color
as "The Art of Cooking."

The books became cornerstones
of a new food movement.

Small cooking schools
and gourmet shops

were popping up
across the country.

♪♪

Americans were embracing
a world of good cooking,

and Jacques went
on the road to meet them.

Fenzl: Most of my clients
were wealthy housewives

that were wanting
to learn to cook.

I mean, Julia was on TV

and they wanted to learn
some of these techniques,

but a lot of them just wanted
to come and see Jacques...

He was very attractive...

And always wanted
a front-row seat.

There was no Food Channel.
There was no Food Network.

None of that.

And so for them
to come and learn

how to bone out a leg of lamb

or make a wonderful sauce
or a fancy dessert.

I mean, they really did
go home and try it.

It must've been terribly tiring,

I mean, to not only be
out all the time,

but to be on an airplane
all the time,

but that's the way he supported
the family back then,

so it was necessary.

Claudine: Usually, about 36,
38 weeks of the year,

he was on the road,

and we were never upset
that he was gone.

That was the rule in the house:

You can never be upset
that he's gone.

Because he's out, working.

It wasn't like
he was playing golf.

Bramson: Those days when
Jacques was teaching,

there were all these...

He was adorable.
You have to understand.

He was just adorable.

I mean, he still is.
I mean he's eighty-what? He's...

So, but there were
all these women,

were always throwing themselves
at him, you know,

and everybody with, you know,

skirts open to here
and tops open to there.

Gloria: And I just
refused to be jealous.

And I've had women send pictures
of him with his arm around them.

They send them to the house.

And fine.

"Oh, she's cute, yeah."

He doesn't even remember them.

And, if he does, he doesn't
tell me 'cause he's too smart.

Jacques: Welcome to our series
on everyday cooking.

Tucci: It was time
for a bigger platform.

In the early 1980s,

there was still only a handful
of television cooking shows.

And they all featured
home cooks.

Jacques decided
to break the mold.

His first attempt featured
dazzling professional technique,

but the show never caught on.

He then spent years

honing his on-camera skills

with guest appearances,
on talk shows with friends...

Man: Now, we're
in descending order, here.

Child: How tall are you?
- Man: 6'4".

How tall are you?
- Child: I'm 6'2".

Man: How tall are you?
- Jacques: 5'1".

Child: No.

Tucci: and finally put it
all together in 1990

with a team in food-forward
San Francisco,

which would remain his public-
television home for decades.

Jacques: Everyone says,
"I can't cook," you know,

"I don't have time to cook."

Well, you don't need
that much time to cook well.

All you need is organization.

Tucci: The series
broke new ground,

focusing on lighter,
contemporary cooking,

as Jacques turned out
complete meals.

Hall: He was cooking live,
right then.

So the power in that
is saying to the viewer,

"You can do this
in real time at home."

He'd make several recipes
in a 30-minute show.

Jacques: Now it's time
to enjoy it.

And you should spend more time
enjoying it than cooking it.

Took me 22 minutes.

I didn't want to do short cooks.

I didn't want to have anything
cooked and diced for me.

I wanted to cook, dice it.

I wanted to show them technique.

I wanted people to understand
the pleasure of sharing.

I wanted to understand people

to have a glass of wine
was good with it.

Zakaria: I grew up in India,

came to the United States
on scholarship as a student,

and so I decided I would
teach myself how to cook.

I stumbled upon Jacques Pépin's
television shows.

And here was this guy
effortlessly showing you

that there was a kind of
craft to cooking.

Of course,
he takes it to an art,

but for the rest of us,
at least we can learn the craft.

Jacques:
I like it to look nice,

and I want to show you
how to make so it looks nice.

Colicchio: He had a yearning
to teach people,

to teach people about food
and teach people that,

through cooking,
you are making people happy.

When someone has that kind
of passion, the camera sees it.

Sitting at home,
you saw this love for food.

Not about being a star,

but about really putting
the food first.

And I think that's what really
set him apart

from everybody else
that was on TV.

Hall: I have this fascination

of watching people's hands
when they cook.

To watch Jacques
do the omelette,

holding the pan just right

and then folding it
perfectly on the plate?

Elegance.

Jacques:
And often people do this,

and it doesn't come up
and bring it back up,

grab it at the knee,

and crack it open here.

Bourdain: If you cook
professionally,

and you watch Jacques Pépin
taking apart a chicken

or cleaning a fish,
there's a frisson of pleasure.

Jacques was the first
professional out there

who was showing you "This is
the way it's done, kids."

It's a beautiful thing to watch.

I mean, beautiful.

Claudine: This looks really bad.

Jacques: Yeah, that's bad.

We'll have to cut
that piece off.

Bourdain:
Bringing Claudine on the show,

like so many of the things
that Jacques has done

successfully in his life,
seems counterintuitive...

Claudine: Just...
Just on top? No...

Jacques: Yes, yes.
- Claudine: Okay.

Jacques:
You want to just spread it out,

exactly just
what you're doing here.

Bourdain: but yet again,
defies the conventional wisdom.

Claudine: You said just...

This... This way.

Jacques: Take...
No, no, no, no.

Claudine: No.
When my father first asked me

to be on the show with him,
it was extremely intimidating.

Jacques: This way.
It goes this way.

And now, you see the line here?
The line is parallel

to the thing.
- Claudine: Okay.

What my father wanted from me
was to ask the questions

that hopefully somebody
at home would have.

Now, these you
cleaned already, right,

before we were doing this?

Jacques: You wipe them
off gently.

Claudine: The world got to see
me learn literally how to cook.

So many people would say,
after the first series,

"Oh, you knew how to do that."

I'm like, "No.
No, I did not."

Jacques: And take this.

Claudine: And this is
pyrotechnic cooking.

Now I feel like I bring
something to the table.

I feel like we really
worked together,

as opposed to just him
taking me along for the ride.

Here you go.
- Jacques: You did incredible.

Claudine: And you can
have some milk.

Jacques: You want some milk?
Okay, cling.

Chin-chin.
- Claudine: Chin-chin.

Jacques:
You cannot cook great food

without mixing some love
into it.

Happy cooking.
- Claudine: Happy cooking.

♪♪

Child: Hey, Jacques!
It's Julia here.

I know we're gonna see
each other Tuesday,

which I'm looking forward to.

We'd better decide
what we want to do.

Love from Julia.

Today, we're gonna do soufflés.

As everyone knows, the heart

of the good soufflé is...

Jacques: Egg white.
Beaten egg white.

And I'm going
to do mine in copper.

I beat it faster
than the machine.

Child: Well, we're gonna see if
you're faster than the machine.

Jacques: All right.
- Child: Okay.

Want to have a countdown?
- Jacques: Yes.

Child: One, two, three, go!

Heller:
Julia and Jacques, they had

such a mutual admiration
for each other, and respect,

but at the same time, they were
like a brother and sister.

Sometimes they would fight
with each other.

Jacques: You're putting
a collar on yours?

I never but a collar
on my soufflé, but...

Child: Well, yours don't
rise high enough.

Jacques: Oh, that's true.

Heller: But overall,
they always came back

to their roots of respect.

Jacques: Okay,
so I'll start folding

and you can add cheese.
That's right.

Child: This is much better doing
it with two people, isn't it?

Heller: This was the like
once-in-a-lifetime experience

to coordinate
between the two of them.

Jacques: Mmm.

Very good, huh?
- Child: That's good.

Jacques: That's great.
- Child: Mmm.

Heller: I was the peacemaker,
taking a look at what

Jacques wanted and Julia wanted
and trying to come up

with something
that made everybody happy.

We would have production
meetings every day.

I don't even know
if I should go into this.

Jacques: And I'd kick her.
- Heller: But I would...

Jacques:
Kick her under the table.

"No, we're not doing that."
- Heller: I said to Jacques,

I went, "Look, I really want
Julia to be able to do

what she wants to do,
and if there's something

that Julia wants to do
that you really don't want,

just kick me,"
and there were a couple times

I got really big kicks
in the shin.

Jacques: When we decided
to do the show with Julia,

and many people commented
after we did the show

that she was much more French
than I was.

We'd do something
and she would tell me,

"You don't do it
like that in Paris."

I said, "Well, I'm from
Connecticut, anyway, so..."

Or she said,
"That's how we do it."

I put a little bit
of Parmesan cheese inside.

Child: I want to see
if it's bitter or not.

Jacques: What do you think?

Child: It's not very tender,

Jacques: It's not?
- Child: but it tastes okay.

I like that old-fashioned
way of...

Jacques: Of boiling it.
- Child: of boiling it

and squeezing it.

You get it tender and you don't
get that slight bitterness.

Jacques: Hmm.
- Child: But you can do it

either way.

Jacques: I mean,
in a more modern way,

I tend to do it this way, with
less love of nutrient and...

Child: We don't care
about nutrients.

We care about
- Jacques: Okay.

Child: taste.
- Jacques: Yes, but,

when you get both
- Child: Don't we?

Jacques: together, you know?
- Child: But it's still

a little...

It's not very tender.

It still has
a slight bitterness to it.

Doesn't it?
- Jacques: I think it's

very tender. Very.

Child: Maybe you have
sharper teeth than I do.

Bourdain: What's glorious
about, particularly,

the Julia Child/
Jacques Pépin combination,

is neither of them would have
a television career today.

They would both be...

There was no way that
they would get a show today.

They'd look at Julia
and they'd say, "She's not,

you know, a beauty queen."

And him, Jacques,

"He's got an accent."
But they pioneered.

And people responded
really powerfully

because they were,
not just good,

but let's face it, awesome.

Child: Bon appétit.
- Jacques: And happy cooking.

Child: It's lovely to cook
with you, Jacques.

Jacques: And with you, too.
- Child: And here's to you.

♪♪

Tucci: The show won Jacques
a national Emmy Award.

Just as America's fascination
with food kicked into high gear,

Jacques stepped up
a dizzying pace of teaching,

writing, and cooking.
- Jacques: Happy cooking.

Tucci: Now with nearly
30 cookbooks

and 14 television series,

he has assumed the role
of elder statesman,

a celebrity in a world
of cooking

unimaginable when he
arrived in America,

but one that he himself
helped bring about.

Ray: It's crazy,

the reaction Jacques can get
from teaching people

how to make scrambled eggs.

He is mesmerizing.

Samuelsson: Jacques is like

sort of the engine
of all of that,

why all of this stuff
now matters.

I know my success
is embedded with Jacques's

and that generation's first
sort of standing up

for what becoming a chef is.

Hall: Everyone sees him
as kind of like a godfather

in the culinary world.

We see him celebrated.

Hall: I mean, this year
with his 80th birthday,

and he's probably
had 80 parties...

Or 365 80th-birthday parties.

Heller: So, his 80th
birthday celebration,

part of it was going to be

a big celebration
in Washington, DC

with hundreds of people
and 80 birthday cakes.

And I got a call
and the call was from Gloria,

saying, "Jacques
has had a stroke."

Claudine: It was not
a very severe stroke,

and he happened to be dining
with his physician

and his cardiologist
at that moment.

Lucky for him because they knew
right away what had happened.

Heller: By the time
I could get a plane

and get to Connecticut,

he was out of the hospital
and saying

that he was absolutely going
to Washington, DC the next day.

And he said, "But I'm supposed
to be there. You know,

it's my birthday. Everybody's
done all of this for me."

Fenzl: But I think the people

that really love him
knew he shouldn't come

and it probably wouldn't
have been a good idea

to have to get on a plane

and so we're going to be
Skyping with him tonight,

and we'll toast to him
in his office

in Madison, Connecticut.

Woman: Happy birthday.
How are you?

Jacques: I can't believe
that I'm not there,

but I'm here with Claudine.

All:
♪ Happy birthday,
dear Jacques ♪

Man: I am so grateful
to know you.

I'm so grateful for the many,

many gifts that you've given
to our industry.

Waters: You came here
in this dining room,

right there at that table,
and you cooked a beautiful meal.

Woman: We love what you've
taught us in the kitchen.

If cooking is a language,

I would be mute without
what Jacques has taught me.

All:
♪ Happy birthday to you ♪

Man: Jacques Pépin,
feliz cumpleaños.

Voice:
Buon compleanno, Jacques.

Woman:
Bon Anniversaire,
Monsieur Jacques.

All: Happy birthday!

Whoo!

Jacques: Ah, incredible.

Man: Yeah!

♪♪

Tucci: Within weeks,
Jacques had resumed

his whirlwind schedule
of teaching and demonstrations.

Man: Thank you, Chef.

Claudine: He's 80.

I think we're just very,

very lucky that he's like
the little Energizer Bunny:

He just keeps goin'
and goin' and goin'.

Jacques: Okay.

Meyer: You know,
a lot of people say

that cooking
is a young person's game.

'Cause let's face it,
it's really exhausting

to be a professional cook,
a professional chef.

And I think
it's really inspirational

for people in our industry

to see somebody
who not only reinvents himself

but has never lost
one ounce of joy,

in terms of the spirit
with which he does it.

Andrés: More than a good cook.

More than a great chef.

It's somebody that really
is able to bring

know-how, a peaceful soul,

a respect to the ingredients,

respect to his craft,
all at once.

♪♪

Bourdain:
What does the word "chef" mean?

It means "I am a leader.

I'm a leader, of cooks."

He will always be a chef.

Jacques: Look at the mess
you're doing.

Gloria! Look at the mess
he's doing in your kitchen.

Szurdak: No, no, no, no, no, no.
Gloria, stay where you are.

Stay where you are.
He had two brothers.

One died.
The other brother died.

And, well, so I shook
his hand and I said,

"Jacques, I am so sorry.

You have no more brothers."

And he said, "Yeah,
I still have a brother,"

and he shook my hand.

♪♪

Jacques: People always ask
you that question:

What would be your last meal?

I don't know what it would be,
but I know it would be very,

very, very, very long.

Claudine: Cheers!
- Jacques: Yeah, cheers.

Jacques: Wow.

Ah!
- Woman: Ha!

Woman: Picture.

♪♪