– I make grandma-food. Kimchi with snails is really old fashion

The Vietnamese-French chef Téo Barazer is soon to be seen at Kampen Bistro in Oslo. Get a sneak-peak on his dishes.

Photos: Amandine L.

13th of february. Spring has just arrived in Bordeaux. The Vietnamese-French chef Téo Barazer is standing outside talking to the «oyster-man» who has delivered oysters to his restaurant since day one. They discuss whether an oyster should be eaten natural, or with a little vinaigrette added.

Téo Barazer became famous overnight when he started a restaurant in the middle of nowhere in the early 2000s. Now he runs Chez Bibi, «the place to be», as it says on the mirror just inside the entrance.

The food is simply amazing. But the man himself is even better;)

Téo often tells me he has had no luck in life. It has only been a lot of problems. And shitloads of work.

I know he’s right.

You see, this guy laughs a lot.

And I happen to believe that there exists waaaaay more laughter among melancholists.

– I started this restaurant because I wanted to be my own chef.  I want to be free, Téo says.

He compares the mentality in a French cuisine with the army. Everybody is screaming, shouting and fighting. As a student he looked for a way out. Or a new way in.

– I spent one year in San Francisco and Mexico and witnessed a lot of chefs smoking pot while making food very gently and cool, he says.

– I told myself we don’t need armystyle. It doesn’t make any sense anymore. I decided to open my own restaurant and make it cool;)

Btw: His biggest dream in his present years was to become a rockstar.

– I studied music in school. I really tried to make it, but nobody bought my albums, he says and laugh.

Musicians & chefs have luckily something in common, he continues:

– When you make the mise en place in a kitchen, its all about repetition, he says.

– You repeat and repeat and repeat, just like when you practicing your instrument. In the evening you play a concert, with different people in the audience.

Téo serves me an amouse-bouche he just made with todays fish from the market. He wants to seduce my norwegian palette.

– I have a plan, Johanna. Hear me out. I want to meet a norwegian fisherman in Oslo and make food with your products. But I also want to bring some local, smoked fish from Bordeaux, he says.

– It’s a cool idea because the Norwegian people are the best people for smoked fish. You guys eat fish as your comfort food, just like I do!

I take a bite. It is the freshest piece of fish I have eaten for a long time. It was, as the hedonist Anthony Bourdain once described it, a protein rush to the cortex, a clean, three-ingredient high, eaten with hands. Amen.

Remember to reserve your ticket for BORDEAUX TAKE-OVER here.

This is a famous, old fashioned-recipe from France. Ernst Hemingway even wrote a hommage to this simple, elegant and tangy composition.

Potatoes and raw fish are marinated in grape oil. A lot of black pepper , onions, carrots, garlic and herbs are also added.

We both agree that we don’t find interest in food that has been slathered with too much sauce, mayonaise or what so ever. It often seems that the other ingrediens is there to hide the product. But if you use fresh, beautifully delicate whitefish, you want to elevate it, not hide it , right?

– This is traditonally a winter salad. Back in the days people only afforded the potatoes. But the oil make the vegetables even more nourishing, Téo explains.

I tell him I love it.

– YEAH! Don’t you think this is very French, but Norwegian style? It could have been a norwegian recipe!

– Oui. Let’s serve this for our guests in Oslo, I say.

– Oui d’accord. Maybe I change my mind. Let’s keep the surprise, its better with surprises, Téo answers and smiles slyly.

– Téo, I’ve been wondering about something for a long time, I tell him.

– Why does Bordeaux have so few classical bistros? It seems that American concepts are taking over the city. There are an enormous number of brunch places.

– You are right, Téo replies.

– People love brunch in Bordeaux. I don’t know why. Maybe because people are hungover all of the time.

– Even you refuse to be a tradisionalist, I continue.

– You tell me you serve french classic food, but your food is completely opposite!

– I actually make grandma-food, Johanna, Téo replies.

– Seriously? I would say you were more modern and crazy. I mean: Fish heads? Sardines with gingerbread filling? KIMCHI AND SNAILS?

– Kimchi with snails is really old fashioned, he says.

– You have a volcanic island in Korea called Jeju. The habitants live for over 100 years. The secret is seafood. They eat fish every day. Kimchi with snails is a part of their everyday-diet, girl.

I shrug my shoulders. I am constantly learning something new about this industry …

And not it’s time for desert! Téo is famous for this one.

– Why do you make tiramisu in a french restaurant? I ask him.

– People ask me that question all the time. I make it because it’s my favorite dessert, Teo says and fills an enoooormous portion straight from the long pan.

– Excuese my french.