Yannick Alléno considers himself a man of the people. His parents owned a modest bistro in a Paris suburb, where they served croque-monsieurs and sliced ham on buttered baguettes, DESPITE he having three Michelin stars at his restaurant in the Meurice hotel, . “I was born behind the counter,” he said. He hates dishes that seem as if they came out of a chemistry class.
He eats a hot dog from a street vendor whenever he goes to New York. “I adore them,” he said. “Even with the bad water they sit in all day.” It wasn’t much of a leap, then, for Mr. Alléno to create his own chien chaud.
Made from edible bits of a cooked calf head, or tête de veau, Actually it is a veau chaud (pronounced voh show) — literally hot veal — a slender nine-inch sausage. (The brains, eyes and fat are left out, and egg white and tiny threads of veal added to hold it together.)
He eats a hot dog from a street vendor whenever he goes to New York. “I adore them,” he said. “Even with the bad water they sit in all day.” It wasn’t much of a leap, then, for Mr. Alléno to create his own chien chaud.
Made from edible bits of a cooked calf head, or tête de veau, Actually it is a veau chaud (pronounced voh show) — literally hot veal — a slender nine-inch sausage. (The brains, eyes and fat are left out, and egg white and tiny threads of veal added to hold it together.)