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Fabrizio Galla

Fabrizio Galla, the chef-owner of Le Tre Colombe in Turin, Italy, took as his theme gianduja, that typically Piedmontese combination of chocolate and hazelnuts, and played three variations on it. To start, he made a traditional chocolate and hazelnut cake and served it with a custard on the side. For Fabrizio, this was a classic dish. He followed this, using all the same ingredients but changing their form, with a chocolate cake, a hazelnut bavarois and a gelee made from Moscato d’Asti. Finally, he presented – and we tasted – the dessert that earned him the gold medal at the 2004 Barry Callebaut Italia Competition, a chocolate cake with cocoa-nibs nougatine, hazelnut ice cream and cane-sugar crunch all beautifully arranged on a plate the chef had crafted from sugar.

Stanton Ho

Anybody seeing us on the Friday afternoon of the Retreat would have thought we were 10-year olds at the circus for the first time. Stanton Ho, executive pastry chef of the Las Vegas Hilton, was in the center ring, begoggled and aproned, wielding a powerful chainsaw and carving a soaring eagle from a huge block of ice. At his side was his protégé-of-the-moment, Bill Yosses, pastry chef at Joseph Citarella’s Restaurant in New York, who had never carved ice before and who was assigned the task of making a graceful swan emerge from the ugly-duckling block. With eyes as big as chocolate-chip cookies, we circled the men and watched as the birds began to take shape. We were watching an art that its masters must struggle to keep alive. Not that you don’t see ice sculptures today – you do, of course, but, for the most part, what you see are computer-generated designs crafted by computer-directed lasers and delivered directly to their pedestals, making it unnecessary for chefs to have to store a 300-pound block of ice in their crowded walk-ins and removing the worry of a slip-of-the-saw and thereby the potential problem of what to do with a one-winged angel. It is very practical, but it has nothing to do with art or craftsmanship and certainly nothing to do with accomplishment, all of which we saw as Stan and Bill worked. Judging from the sense of pride, satisfaction and sheer almost childish delight Bill, the neophyte carver, displayed when his swan took shape, it appears the master has brought another convert into the fold.

Siegfried Schnecker

Siegfried Schnecker, a pastry instructor at the Gastgewerbefachschule in Vienna, brought us to a world in which cake is a daily indulgence, the coffeehouses of his city. The Viennese kaffeehausen were much more than places to have a cup of coffee. From the start of the 18th century, when they took root in the city, they were gathering places, venues for important political debates, the place where the day’s newspapers were available, the setting for daily concerts – among the artists who performed in the concert cafes were Mozart and Beethoven – a meeting place for writers and artists and the best place to enjoy cake. As Siegfried quoted from a Viennese pastry handbook, “Cake is an opulent, cream-filled structure, made with eggs, sugar, butter, egg whites and a little bit of flour, a luxury product – poor in vitamins and rich in calories.” Cake was part of a lifestyle in which weight was considered a sign of wealth and prosperity. As an example of not just a typical cake, but of one of the most famous of the Austrian capitol, the chef made his own version of the Sacher Torte, a chocolate cake layered with raspberry jam and finished with a crystallized chocolate glaze resembling fondant. After tasting Siegfried’s creation, and knowing that the Hotel Sacher keeps the recipe for its namesake torte under tight security, we wondered if the chef could be as agile with a set of lock picks as he is with a whisk.