Looking back and ahead at Le Bec-Fin (2001)

This article was published April 25, 2001

On such a nostalgic evening, with the Veuve Clicquot flowing as if there is no tomorrow and Georges Perrier holding forth in front of the tall mirror in the dining room at Le Bec-Fin - basking quite literally in his own reflection - it is difficult to imagine his act being followed, his shoes being filled.

But that is the purpose of this Monday night past - to celebrate (once again) the 30 triumphant years of Philadelphia's premier restaurant and, not incidentally, to introduce Perrier's chosen culinary successor, Frederic Cote, 34.

Later, as the event is stretching toward five hours, after a mid-aisle collision sends a spray of champagne down the back of a New York Times food writer, after cell phones start to trill impatiently, Daniel Boulud of Manhattan's celebrated restaurant Daniel will perform the honors - acting as Cote's fond patron, his "uncle," as Cote sheepishly accepts his accolades.

(Cote had worked as a sous chef in Boulud's kitchen fresh from Lyon's Hotel Metropole, and it was Boulud who recommended him to Perrier during a three-hour morning phone call.)

But for now, Perrier has the floor, charcoal-suited, a cream-colored square in his pocket, alternately commanding and hoarse, thanking his staff, wrestling with the torment of losing his fifth Mobil star and the human dilemma: "As much as you want to change," he says, "you want to remain who you are."

When Le Bec-Fin opened in 1970, Perrier reminds the room, Philadelphia was hardly a "restaurant town." Fresh herbs were rare as gems. Squab was available, but only frozen. Princess Grace of Monaco had yet to dine in his restaurant, and the braid of salmon and sole he created to celebrate her signature coiffure was yet to join the menu.

Now the tradition he invented - nouveau French with a Philadelphia twist - is about to get a public face-lift.

About 85 guests are gathered in the raspberry-walled dining room, wedged at long tables of 12 to pay Perrier homage and to drop $220 apiece to sample - to dissect, perhaps - Cote's new stylings.

Much remains the same. The chandeliered Louis XVI decor. The domed silver cloches (though not for a seating this large). And some golden oldies - the airy galette de crabe, for instance, and the snails in champagne and hazelnut butter.

But Cote - like Perrier a native of Lyon - is already having his way. His flavors are not flamboyant or assertive so much as rearranged, surprisingly combined - a savory take on creme brulee made with truffled potatoes, a deeply creamy (but creamless) green olive soup with codfish, a cheese course of whipped fromage blanc and goat cheese over beet mousse.

Even the china has changed, from grand patterned plates to stark-white, steep-sided bowls and almond-shaped platters.

Eagles owner Jeffery Lurie is at the head table with his wife, Christina. Longtime customer Herb Lotman, whose company supplies meat to McDonald's, is here, and the banker Thomas Knox.

Purveyors of seafood and vegetables have come. So has the lovely Jeannine Mermet, whose since-closed La Truffe was one of the city's pioneering French restaurants.

There is, of course, the French mafia - Jean Banchet, formerly of Le Francais in Chicago; Sylvain Portay of San Francisco's Ritz-Carlton; Jean-Yves Schillinger of New York's Destinee; Jean-Marie Lacroix of Philadelphia's Four Seasons.

And awaiting his moment to introduce Cote, beaming and being fussed over, chef Boulud.

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It is touchy business, describing Cote's new role. Perrier announced his appointment as Le Bec-Fin's executive chef a few months ago, saying he was tired, spread thin - he has two other restaurants, Brasserie Perrier down the street and Le Mas Perrier in Wayne - and, at 57, without his old reserves of boundless energy.

Ever since, he has been explaining that, no, he isn't dead yet: "I am so sick and tired of hearing Georges Perrier is retiring," he tells his guests. "The only way that he will retire is when he is underground."

So, for now, Cote might be described as the curator of Perrier's storied kitchen, tasked with putting on new shows, perhaps, but not - yet - with being its public face and voice.

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By 8 Monday morning, the basement kitchen at Le Bec is in full clatter - frog legs are being frenched, the peas that will be gratineed for the squab dish are being sieved, Cote is whisking the olives for the soup, skimming every last drop of oil from the top.

There are eight cooks, then nine, 10, 11 clambering over each other in the kitchen - beginning a workday that will not end until just before midnight.

Cote calls for what a server hears as "18 spoons" to hold canapes. It is 80, in fact, that he wants - "Eight, zero!" he barks, compensating for his heavy French accent.

Though Cote is voluble, chatting into French television cameras recording the changing of the guard, his rudimentary English leaves him fighting for words as he acknowledges the applause that greets his introduction.

Haltingly, shyly, Cote reads his remarks, thanking Perrier, Boulud, and his own new sous chef, Pierre Calmels, barely a week in town from - where else? - Lyon.

The torch has, if not passed, been placed into joint custody.

Menu

Olive Soup With Codfish and Cherry Tomato

Potato Gnocchi With Caviar, Perfumed With Lime

Foie Gras Terrine, Garnished With Apples and Avocado

Lobster Cannelloni With Fennel and Soy Sauce

Alaskan Halibut With Honeyed Carrot Puree

Potato-Wrapped Squab With Pea Gratin

Fresh Cheeses, Served With Beet Puree

Roasted Pineapple With Ginger and Vanilla Creme With Lychee Ice Cream