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Published on November 8, 2007

 Channee Bortot has spent the past nine months learning how to be a chef at the Cordon Bleu school in Paris. Married to a French businessman, the Thai wants to get a job in a French restaurant - something considerably trickier than "cooking for my husband".

She's one of hundreds of foreigners enrolled at the school, which is renowned for the intensive training that has produced so many of the world's top chefs. It's not cheap: The nine-month course in cuisine and pastry can cost ¤34,000 (Bt1.5 million).

Most of the students believe it's well worth the price. A 24-year-old student from Chicago says she plans to intern for three months at a French restaurant and then open one of her own back home. It's a common dream at Le Cordon Bleu.

Wannabe chefs, under the stern gaze of senior experts, have to know every step, every ingredient and every measurement by heart. Any misstep could destroy their dream. French cuisine has followed the same elaborate code for hundreds of years, and diversions are not tolerated.

"It's very rigid - there's no let-up," says Catherine Puschat, one of the instructors. Only after the students have earned their diplomas are they allowed to get creative.

"At the examinations for le grand diplome," Puschat says, "they're given ingredients about which they have no advance notice, and have to prepare their own dish using only their imagination."

In September Le Cordon Bleu - which already has 30 branches from Peru to South Korea - opened another in Bangkok, in a joint venture with the Dusit Thani Hotel. It has 103 students, mainly Thais, and thankfully the course price is much cheaper than in Paris: about Bt450,000.

The Paris school has experimented with foreign elements before, such as using Korean kimchi in French dishes, and, "We want to do the same with Thai dishes in the future," Puschat says.    

Whoever wishes to be a successful chef in France must first face the challenges posed by Gault Millau magazine, the Michelin Red Guide and numerous food writers. France reportedly has more food critics than there are Thai generals.

Gault Millau editor Patricia Alexandre is very proud of her long-established publication's restaurant and hotel ratings.

"We maintain a high standard," she says. "We search out the best chefs all over France, especially the young ones who are still unknown. We have 30 criteria to judge their quality and that of the food they make and the environment in which it's served."

In a recent survey Gault Millau ranked Thai cuisine as the fourth most popular foreign food in France, after Italian, North African and Japanese. The average Frenchman still has difficulty distinguishing it from Chinese, Vietnamese and Cambodian, Alexandre says, and all of these have been known in France much longer.

"In Paris a typical Asian restaurant will serve Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese and Cambodian food all together," she says, "so it's very confusing. It's only in recent years that we've seen more Thai restaurants on their own."

When it comes to rating restaurants around the world, the Michelin Guide is considered the bible. Each year chefs and hoteliers endure the gruelling wait for its verdicts. In 2003 French chef Bernard Loiseau committed suicide and many assumed it was because of rumours that he was about to lose his Michelin three-star rating.

Michelin spokesperson Marie Benedite Chevet points out that Loiseau did not lose his status. He took his life for other reasons.

This year 26 chefs earned three stars. The Thai restaurant Nahm in London, owned and operated by David Thomson, held onto the single star that Michelin awarded it four years ago. It is still the only Thai restaurant in the world to be so honoured.

Chevet says a Japanese-language Red Guide is being introduced this month and there will be more for other Asian countries in the future.

Michelin relies on 85 well-trained, full-time inspectors, of whom 15 are non-French. Their identities are never revealed.

Chevet says a three-star restaurant can expect 14 secret visits by different inspectors in a single year. "When we recommend a chef we're putting our reputation on the line. If people try them and disagree with our assessment, we lose creditability."

Chefs awarded one, two or three stars have fulfilled five strict criteria on quality, skill, flavour, personality, value for money and consistency.

A senior French diplomat who loves to cook offered me a secret technique for preparing perfect sunny-side-up eggs. The way he described it made my mouth water.

You separate the yolk from the egg white and fry the white first, then gently place the yolk on top and cover all with a pan lid. In a few seconds - voila! - the perfect egg, and no more complaints about runny goo.

I wonder if Le Cordon Bleu knows about this.

 Kavi Chongkittavorn

 The Nation