When chefs start cooking for fame, they’re missing out on everything else.

Erik Chalhoub here, writing this after catching up on some of the many cooking shows I watch.

I don’t pretend to be a chef, but I enjoy these shows as a way to unwind and learn a little bit about cooking while laughing at the obviously staged drama.

One thing I hear time and time again is the prestige of the Michelin star, and how celebrity chefs will always tout how many they have. It’s a source of pride, a status symbol among their peers. Meanwhile, I’m still confused how a tire company relates to fine dining.

It was refreshing to read Dave Faries’ article in this week’s edition of the Weekly about Goran Basarov, the new executive chef at The Quail Lodge & Golf Club in Carmel Valley, who isn’t striving for a Michelin star.

“I don’t want it,” he says.

The reasoning is simple: With the recognition comes expectations. Guests will expect nothing but perfection when they see those stars hanging in the restaurant.

Basarov told Faries that once a restaurant earns a Michelin star, it becomes its sole purpose. Restaurants tend to lose sight of what really matters in their quest for culinary excellence: the relationship between the kitchen and the guests, which helps keep a chef grounded and open to learning about everyone’s different tastes.

While Basarov can be a demanding chef, especially when it comes to sourcing ingredients, he prefers simple dishes that make his food unpretentious and welcoming to all.

The chef took over The Quail’s restaurants in December, and says he will soon switch up the menus.

Newsletter

Weekend edition.