Chopin Gourmet by Wojciech Bońkowski. Narodowy Instytut Fryderyka Chopina, 2015

Most artists would agree that a “man does not live by bread alone” but having no bread is no laughing matter. The lives of famous composers evolved quite naturally around their work and that is where our focus should always remain, and yet one craves to uncover more of their daily existence to form an even fuller and more fascinating picture.

While Bach’s eating habits were probably modest and unsophisticated, his famous contemporary Handel had a very healthy appetite and ate like a horse. In his newly refurbished house at 25 Brook Street, the museum makes a splendid foray into his gourmet rituals, recreating not only his dining room but also a well-equipped kitchen. We have scant information about composer’s private life, but inventories compiled after his death give us a tantalising glimpse of his business affairs, stock market investments, art collecting habits and finally his love of food. Handel entertained regularly and his guests were in no doubt about how serious he was with regard to menus. One of them listed the dishes, some of which might be hard going for our 21st-century palate: “rice soup with mutton in, pretty patties, lamb’s ears, an eel pye” – accompanied by “French claret, Rhenish wine and madeira”.

Gastronomy evolved over centuries but perhaps the most substantial shifts occurred after the French Revolution with the rise of the middle classes and bourgeoisie. Rossini was as famous for his epicurean feasts as for his operas and the speed with which he was churning out his semiquavers must have equalled the number of dishes he liked to devour.

He once said, “I admit to having cried three times in my life: when I failed my first opera, when I heard Paganini play the violin and when a truffled turkey fell overboard at a boat picnic.” Rossini was born in Pesaro, which is a stone’s throw from the Marche region, famous for its truffles!

Needless to say, Paris awakened his passion for the art of cooking. The French capital made a similar impression on another great composer and pianist who arrived there on 5 October 1831: Fryderyk Chopin. In a little book, originally published in Polish in 2015 by the Fryderyk Chopin Institute in Warsaw (available in English) and titled Chopin Gourmet, its author, musicologist and wine expert Wojciech Bońkowski, paints a delicious portrait of the composer’s culinary tastes and habits.

In his relatively short but intense life, Chopin traversed several equally fascinating but very different gastronomical traditions. His youth evolved around country estates of landed gentry, minor nobility and grand aristocracy, where every house was self-sufficient, produce strictly local and menus very conservative. In fact, they had not altered since the publication of the first and oldest Polish cookery book, written in 1682 and reprinted virtually unchanged till the second half of the 19th century. The ingredients were fresh and seasonal but dishes often heavy, with plenty of spices. The cuisine was eastern-oriented and a typical dinner ran into a dozen dishes of game, fish, soups, breads, desserts and vegetables (always cooked), accompanied by wines from Hungary (both dry and sweet, such as Tokaj), Croatia and Romania. French wines had a surprisingly mixed reputation, unlike the Italian or Spanish, which were expensive but sought-after. A typical menu for a princely dinner with no guests attending would include a starter of soup, beefsteak with potatoes, two ducks macerated in wine, braised hare with roasted carrots, and a fruit cake. Coffee arrived in Poland in the 17th century, gaining immediate popularity, while foreign travellers praised its high quality. This was Chopin’s culinary upbringing, which he must have experienced in Żelazowa Wola, Szafarnia or Sanniki, or during his visit to the Antonin Palace, an enchanting hunting lodge of the Princes Radziwił.

Soon after Fryderyk’s birth, the family moved to Warsaw, which offered its inhabitants a glimpse of a European metropolis, with coffee houses, restaurants and eating habits infused with a more European flavour. The cuisine gained elegance and refinement, while losing few calories. Game would often be replaced with beef and veal; lunch would be served at 12pm and a pre-theatre dinner at 6pm. French influence was prevalent largely due to the Francophile taste of the last king of Poland and later the political alliance with Napoleon. In 1822 there were 90 coffee houses in Warsaw but sadly none of them are still in existence. Names such as Palmoni Carlucci, Campioni, Gian Lodovico Nesti or the chocolate wizard Marco Bini have now been buried deep in the past.

Poland’s turbulent and often tragic history made the preservation of such places well-nigh impossible.

Paris had had its fair share of wars and revolutions but it seems the only one able to alter its looks was architectural rather than military, courtesy of Baron George-Eugène Haussmann. The French capital must have felt like a sensory overload for young Chopin. The city was permanently shaken but surprisingly not stirred by political turmoil. In gastronomy, changes were perhaps less dramatic but equally noticeable. The extravagances of the ancien régime, with its aphrodisiac breakfasts of hundreds of oysters, unceasing lunches and never-ending dinners, were fading into obscurity.

Even the extravagant architectural concoctions of Marie-Antoine Carême could no longer hold the stage, though the author dismisses him far too quickly. The famous chef’s influence continued till his death in 1833 and there is a great possibility Chopin experienced his formidable cooking at James and Betty de Rothschild’s lavish house at rue Lafitte. By the time Carême was born, the ancien régime had been nearly extinguished by the brute force of the guillotine. His ascent to fame began with Talleyrand, followed by the Russian-British occupation of Paris, when he cooked for the crème de la crème of European aristocracy including Tsar Alexander I of Russia. Most importantly, Carême stands out as the pioneer genius of haute cuisine whose books and codification of the key sauces – velouté, béchamel, allemande and espagnole – would inspire generations of French and foreign cooks such as Escoffier and Julia Child.

While Warsaw in 1825 had around 50 restaurants, Paris boasted more than 1,200, as well as hundreds of coffee houses and pastry shops. Even though in his correspondence Chopin fails to mention any establishments by name, we know he was a regular at some of the most expensive and fashionable restaurants in town. Luckily, many have survived to this day and one can easily do a “Chopin gastronomic tour” of Paris without missing a meal. Most of his apartments were conveniently located at the very heart of Parisian food heaven. In one of the letters, his friend describes a dinner they had at Au Rocher de Canale on rue Montorgueil, specialising in fish and seafood. Chopin must have also visited La Maison Dorée on boulevard des Italien, famous for its lavish interiors and glitzy clientele, which included aristocrats, plutocrats and artists as well as arguably the largest wine cellar in Paris. George Sand’s favourite was Le Grand Véfour and so it’s inconceivable Chopin would not once have joined her or taken his friends there. It made national headlines when it lost its third Michelin star in 2008. If you have a sweet tooth, don’t miss Stohrer, Chopin’s favourite patisserie and the oldest in Paris. It was established in 1730 by Nicolas Stohrer, of Polish origin, pastry chef to Stanisław Leszczyński, Duke of Lorraine, former king of Poland, whose daughter Maria Leszczyńska married Louis XV of France. It’s still ranked as one of the best in Paris.

Bońkowski’s book is a treasure trove of curious and delicious, some of it factual and some hypothetical but always enlightening. Like Sherlock Holmes he follows the trajectory of Chopin’s life with an inquisitive eye, making necessary detours into the social and culinary setting of the time.

An entire chapter is naturally devoted to wine and, though we know what Chopin drank, his tastes remain an enigma. Both in his and his friends’ letters, wines such as Bordeaux, Madeira, Rüdesheimer (Beethoven’s favourite), Tokaj and Champagne are frequently mentioned and there is a certain possibility that composer’s family had once owned some vineyards in the Lorraine region.

The book ends with a delightful set of menus compiled by the author in cooperation with the head chef of the Warsaw restaurant Tamka 43 and a sommelier, Norbert Dudziński, giving us an alluring glimpse into what Chopin might have eaten at home, when entertaining and in a restaurant. For a full sensory experience, food and wine are matched with a selection of the composer’s own pieces.

Even though the book was published in 2015, it is still available in three languages and I recommend it strongly.