Chef Kei Kobayashi is speaking his mind — something he says it took moving to France to learn.
Less than 24 hours after he became the first ever Japanese cook to win the maximum three Michelin stars in France, the phones are ringing off the hook at his Paris restaurant, Kei.
The last of the lunchtime diners are skipping out of his minimalist dining room not far from the Louvre, grinning from ear to ear.
Photo: AFP
They have just eaten a piece of history, and at 58 euros (US$63) for a set lunch, a bargain into the bag.
Kobayashi is holding forth in his clinically clean kitchen as his small team scurry around him.
“Japanese people are usually very quiet. But you cannot survive in France like that,” he said.
Photo: AP
The dozen or so other Japanese chefs who have been making waves in the rarefied world of French haute cuisine over the last few years are usually meekness incarnate.
They bow, say a few humble halting words of thanks and are off.
Not Kobayashi. The first thing that the 42-year-old said after getting his third star was how difficult and demanding he was.
With his gelled bleached blond hair, there is something of the showman about the young blade who readily admits to driving his cooks ferociously hard.
But it was not always so, he insisted, claiming France has changed him.
‘I SAY WHAT I MEAN’
“I am direct now. Like the French, I say what I mean,” he said.
“I am a very difficult guy,” he added, as he barked out an order in his small but perfectly designed kitchen. “Working with me means lots of stress. I watch and check everything.”
“Compared to a French chef” — who are not renowned for being touchy-feely — “I am probably more difficult,” he smiled.
But Kobayashi was careful not to ruffle feathers when asked if he and other young Japanese were beating the French at their own game and in their own back garden.
“France has accepted us and given us a place, so I thank France,” he said, adding that the Japanese cooks have been trained in the French tradition for nearly 150 years.
And indeed, it was watching a documentary about the nouvelle cuisine pioneer Alain Chapel that inspired Kobayashi to follow his father — a chef specialising in traditional Japanese kaiseki cuisine — into the kitchen.
Like his compatriot Yosuke Suga — who topped the La Liste’s ranking of the world’s best restaurants this year with his tiny Tokyo table, Sugalab, and who is only a few months his senior — Kobayashi decided to learn at the feet of his French heroes.
While some French gastronomes have implied that Kobayashi’s restaurant was not quite grand enough for the culinary holy grail of three stars, even the Michelin guide’s worst enemy believes its inspectors got it right.
French chef Marc Veyrat, who lost his third star last year and took Michelin to court in the notorious “Cheddargate” case, tipped his toque to him.
CRITICS ‘TRANSPORTED’
“I say ‘Bravo!’,” Veyrat said. “It’s great that people like him are coming here.”
Kobayashi, who was born in Nagano, opened his Paris restaurant nine years ago with his wife Chikako after working under a series of legendary French three-star chefs including Alain Ducasse, one of his mentors.
His pastry chef Toshiya Takatsuka — who has also been making a name for himself in France — said he decided to move to Paris to work under Kobayashi after eating at Kei in 2013.
“I could immediately feel the spirit of the chef, the concentration — everything was so absolutely right,” he said.
Working with him, however, is no bed of roses, he admitted.
“He puts you under the maximum pressure. He always tells the truth, he never hides things. He says what he thinks — there is no filter,” 35-year-old Takatsuka added.
“But I think he is harder on himself than he is on others... He has thought everything through in the restaurant, as he keeps saying, it’s a theater.”
And its star is Kobayashi’s cooking, with the dining room’s sparse grey interior designed to point up his startling creations like his “Garden of crunchy vegetables” which transported the Michelin inspectors.
When asked why there were no pictures on the walls, he replied, “My cuisine provides the necessary colour.” As Kobayashi mixes the salad of up to 40 ingredients covered in a citrus mousse, “in which every spoonful has a different taste,” it’s hard to disagree.
Taiwan’s English education system is being pulled apart by three opposing forces. Bilingual Nation 2030 pulls students toward English and global communication. Artificial Intelligence (AI) readiness pulls them toward digital judgment, verification and AI-mediated work. But Taiwan’s old exam culture pulls them back toward memorization, grammar drills, timed reading and correct answers. If the education system keeps using old exams to define success, it risks producing graduates who are neither genuinely bilingual nor genuinely AI-ready, but trained for tasks machines can already perform. The first force is Bilingual Nation 2030. Launched in 2018, the policy aimed to “help Taiwan’s workforce connect
It seems every few days one bumps into one of those “real man” comments in which Taiwan is urged to “face reality” or similar, and “make a deal,” with the speaker implying that soon it will be too late. “Deal” advocates always present themselves as having a superior grip on reality, and the manly ability to make the “hard choice.” Their testosterone-laden language often echoes that of Taiwan sellout advocates. Note that such commentary always specifies a process (“make a deal, work with, make progress”), never the end state of what occupation by a violent authoritarian colonialist state will entail. In
June 1 to June 7 "If all Taiwanese were as afraid of dying as you, then what would happen?” Physician Shih Chiang-nan (施江南) reportedly said this to his wife Chen Chiao-tung (陳焦桐) after she urged him to stop intervening on behalf of Taiwanese soldiers stranded overseas after serving in the Japanese Army during World War II. Shih had clashed with high-ranking officials over the issue, engaged in several heated arguments with Taiwan governor-general Chen Yi (陳儀) and allegedly shouted at general Ko Yuan-fen (柯遠芬), chief of staff of the Taiwan Garrison Command, over
“Taiwan’s Opposition Leader Comes to US With a Message Straight Out of Beijing” read a May 31 headline in the Wall Street Journal. Top US administration officials and members of Congress almost certainly read the WSJ, and if there was a bullet point takeaway that people in Washington should absorb ahead of Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chair Cheng Li-wun’s (鄭麗文) arrival in DC on June 9, that headline is it. The last few columns have discussed this very topic, and the timing is not coincidental. While those top officials likely do not read the Taipei Times, judging by the number