Top chef Roland Trettl meets Andreas Caminada

Roland Trettl meets Andreas Caminada

Already come a long way

Andreas Caminada would also cut a fine figure as a model, but he prefers to stand in front of a stove, from whence he has already cooked his way to top awards

Stars and points aren't usually my cup of tea. Too many people have too many of them, and too many don't have enough. I even have problems with awards such as "Cook of the Year" or the like, but sometimes it's awarded to the right person, as in the case of young Swiss chef Andreas Caminada, from "Schloss Schauenstein" in Fürstenau.

In 2003, at 26 years old, he opened eight wonderfully furnished rooms and a restaurant seating just 25 with his partner at the time. Now don't ask me how that works in financial terms, but at least the hotel and restaurant succeed as a concept, as attested by the collection of laurels. The success almost swamped them – 15 points in Gault Millau in 2005 and "Discovery of the Year". 16 GM points and the first Michelin star in 2006, topped by 17 points and "Rising Star of the Year", and finally 18 points, two stars and "Chef of the Year" in 2008. Dizzying! Especially when you consider that there are only five employees rushing around in the kitchen.

So what really distinguishes this Swiss man who looks like a Dolce & Gabbana model? Perhaps his modesty? When I first contacted him to invite him to Salzburg, Andreas, the son of a bricklayer and dressmaker, wanted to turn me down flat. He simply wasn't sure whether he had really come that far. A hesitancy that has something almost bold about it, especially as the first time you dine with Andreas, you feel that your leg was being well and truly pulled.

Paradoxically, Caminada's diversity stems from his boundless enthusiasm for focus and concentration. When the Swiss chef seizes upon a topic, it's dissected from start to finish. If he offers foie gras as a starter, then he serves every version of foie gras possible. There is diced foie gras, layered with wafer-thin dark chocolate, flanked by grilled peaches and diced yoghurt mousse.

There are beetroot crisps with foie gras parfait. There's foie gras ice-cream with a sparkling wine sauce. And there's a foie gras mousse with yoghurt. The langoustine starters are similarly concentrated and compartmentalised. Veal tartar is served with a warm langoustine, in conjunction with a langoustine terrine with crème fraîche. A spring roll with langoustines. carpaccio of langoustine with shellfish foam. Baked langoustine balls rolled in green rice flakes, with a chilli broth to "cleanse the palate" at the end. Sautéed langoustine, tossed in crushed coriander and potato crisps, accompanied by preserved lemons. As I said, that was a starter too.

You might well ask yourself, how is it possible to make life so difficult for oneself? But that's not really the question, because there is an incredible number of cooks who make life difficult for themselves. Perhaps it's even a part of providing guests with a service, but it doesn't necessarily mean that it goes hand in hand with a certain intellectual rigorousness. How often does one see a composition on the plate and wonder what it's supposed to be? There's logic to a Caminada course, on the other hand. His love of variations on a theme is not crude art for art's sake, merely to pretentiously demonstrate that he has what it takes. No, it demonstrates the desire to completely exhaust a theme. With product accompaniments, with seasonings, with preparations and textures, with none of it being a sure-fire trick. Andreas can also do less lavish, such as an octopus gazpacho with pan-friend scallops and veal sweetbreads, gherkins with a mustard vinaigrette in a separate jug, served with potato crisps and caper aïoli. In the case of the Joselito pork, he feels the urge to create variations again, with a type of pressed pork cheek and potato lasagne, roast fillet of pork with onion purée and tomato cream, and thirdly crackling with potato foam and braised pearl onions.

Everything that Caminada touches is charmingly perfect. In the kitchen every technique, every cut is perfect. And when he lights his restaurant it's perfect, just as the background music is perfect. All the senses are addressed in an ideal manner. No, really, it's all so great that the issue of whether or not the - fantastic – service was worth it or not, sounds almost like I'm trying to stir up trouble.

Recorded by Christoph Schulte • Photos: Jürg Waldmeier / Red Bull Photofiles