Laila Gohar’s rites of spring
Roula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.
Fifteen years ago I walked into an enchanting Brooklyn home that felt more like a beautifully chaotic souk than somebody’s house. It was bursting with art, people, colours, food, flowers, children, life… Ramdane Touhami, the proprietor, was sitting around a large, 20-person dining table, yelling a mile a minute over a giant bowl of steaming couscous. Every time he opened his mouth there would be an explosion of ideas and of dreams. He spoke of politics, music, fashion, architecture, anarchy, religion and skiing, sometimes in the same sentence. His wife, Victoire de Taillac, welcomed me with open arms as she chased the youngest of their three children from underneath the dining table. I had never met these people, yet it felt so familiar.
Ramdane, who is Moroccan, and Victoire, who is French, had spent time living in Paris, Tangiers and Tokyo, and had just arrived in New York. I was immediately drawn to their spirit. It was the start of an epic friendship.
No matter how busy Ramdane has been over the past decade, he somehow always has time for me. He’ll be closing deals worth millions, buying factories, opening hotels or starting new businesses, but he’s also somehow available for a lunch on Tuesday, or he’ll call me up to say, “Let’s go to Venice tomorrow for a day. I have found this incredible lace you’d love.” This generosity of time is exactly what makes him a great host.
I was recently in Paris working for Fashion Week, staying at the couple’s home, and thought to break up work a little by throwing a nice Saturday lunch. My way of relaxing from my job of cooking and hosting is to cook and host some more. And who better to do it with than the two best hosts I know?
It’s taken me some time and a lot of thought to be able to put my finger on what I think makes someone a good host. It has everything to do with generosity. True generosity is generosity of the spirit. Sharing yourself with others. And a “self” is not something that money can buy. There tends to be a misconception that generosity has to do with means. This is far from the truth. I’ve seen people who have nothing but give everything. Hosting is not about how rich you are, or how big your house is, or how accomplished a cook you are. It is about how generous you are able to be with your time.
As it is spring, we decided to host a spring feast featuring spring vegetables: white asparagus, cardoons, beans and green garlic, steamed artichoke with aioli, grated carrots and a big leafy salad. The preparation was simple – the platters were overflowing with vegetables and the glasses with wine. I went straight to the market with my big Rimowa case and packed it with vegetables. It took about two hours for the three of us to get everything in order as Tonton, the family’s giant Old English Sheepdog, was dashing in and out of the terracotta-tiled kitchen and around our feet. Then our friends began to pour into the kitchen one by one.
Max Farago, a photographer living in Los Angeles was the first to arrive with the director Arnaud Uyttenhove. Then came the Lebanese restaurateur Kamal Mouzawak with his elegant Afghan Hound (appropriately) named Souk. Then there was a Korean friend I had recently met in Seoul, Mijae Kim, as well as the Mexican creative director Rafael Prieto, and finally another colourful character, Michael Klawans.
Every single person came from a different country. It was a busy week for all, but it felt especially important to set some time aside for each other. There was an air of abundance in the room – yes the food, but more importantly the conversation and attention we were giving one another. One of my earliest memories of Victoire back in Brooklyn was sitting around the table at their home and discussing how fruit in Japan tends to be meticulously and individually packaged and each one needs to be perfect. Victoire said, “I do appreciate the perfection of each strawberry, but my aesthetic is a big bowl of strawberries, not a single strawberry. Some are perfect, some are not, and that’s OK.” This conversation stuck with me all these years, and I think often about this aesthetic of generosity.
Comments