Unmet Expectations : A Morning With Gualtiero Marchesi, the ‘Ferrari of Gastronomy’

WHEN I HEARD Gualtiero Marchesi, a famed Milanese restaurateur, was coming to Los Angeles to introduce a “delicate” rose-petal liqueur, I eagerly accepted an invitation to meet him.

It was not a surprising development for Marchesi; he has expanded his world of gastronomy far beyond his kitchens by designing Ginori china, gourmet frozen foods, select blended coffees, olive oil, vinegars, cookware, kitchen tools, even a silver-plated stainless-steel plate cover. Enthusiastic Italian media have even suggested that these extensions might make him the “Ferrari of gastronomy.”

Marchesi, who is self-trained, told me when I dined with him at his restaurant seven years ago (on sumptuously beautiful and elegant foods including rapturously wonderful pumpkin-filled tortellini and poached seabass with tomato fondu) that it was only after his final apprenticeship with the Troisgros brothers in Roanne that he decided to open his own restaurant in Milan on May 14, 1977.

Here we were in Los Angeles at the St. James Club, with the handsome boxed bottle of the rose-petal liqueur, another signature item, called “Gualtiero Marchesi Liqueur.” The only decorative pattern on the label consisted of seven brush strokes of different colors, symbols of proper contrasting harmonies in the construction of a menu, each color a different venue: soups, salads, fish, poultry, meat, cheese, dessert. We poured some of the rose-pink liqueur into a Ginori china cup.

I will confess to a prejudiced palate as I lifted the little Ginori liqueur cup to my lips; I was remembering the Vinum Rosatum from the 12 Apostoli in Verona that I had tasted some years ago. The scent was totally beguiling, the taste obviously awaiting the sweetening of some honey. I have never forgotten that experience.

The Marchesi liqueur, “derived from rose petals, enhanced with a fragrant combination of jasmine, orange blossoms and raspberry,” was delicate. But alas, all those other familiar scents were so minuscule as to be barely present. The salient impression was merely sweetness, close to cloying. Maybe it could lift an aperitif champagne, as in a Kir Royale? It works with a kind of feminine charm.

As I emerged from this morning audience with this master chef and culinary innovator from Milan, the Marchesi liqueur ($22) obviously held more disappointment than elation. Back to the drawing board, Gualtiero.