SCARY MARCO SHOWS OFF HIS SOFTER SIDE
'How the devil from Hell's Kitchen was a just a perfect angel to me and my mum'
THE DEEP, dulcet tones of Marco Pierre White, saying, "I like you... you're funny... put that in your piece", will stay with me forever.
He was a hard nut to crack but as you can see from the photographs; give the fiery Hell's Kitchen superstar a fruit-coloured bandana, act as stroppy as he does, and you've got yourself the recipe for a juicy interview.
Jelly
I have to admit that for the first time in years I felt shell-shocked at the sight of a person. Of course I'm not the first person to turn into jelly at the mere mention of Marco's name. The legendary enfant terrible of the kitchen has been striking fear in many a young commis chef for decades - some of whom, like Heston Blumenthal and Gordon Ramsay have since excelled to the same dizzying heights as himself.
I've been a journalist for nine years now but when Marco refused to lift his head from his mobile after his PR lady graciously introduced me and asked me to sit in beside him, I knew I would have to pull out all the stops to get him talking.
He was in Dublin to promote his new restaurant Frankie's in Temple Bar (formerly Fitzers), so surely it wouldn't be that hard. As if sitting in a doctors surgery, I sat quietly and patiently and waited to be spoken to. Eventually, in a deep, intimidating tone he asked "how are you?" without removing his gaze from his phone.
"Eh, grand, so how are you?" I chanced back nervously.
Piercing
"I asked you a question... I said how are you?" His tone was now deeper, and his piercing eyes were now staring straight at me. It was at that moment that I truly understood how nervous all those celebrities in Hells Kitchen felt. This guy had a presence. If he was
an animal he would be a bull! I decided to try and break the ice by pulling out a bandana similar to those he had famously worn during
the last season of the show.
He seemed impressed, so I cheekily asked him if he would put it on me. Instantly he became more animated and happily played with my scarf, positioning each tassel and preening me like a work or art. All I needed was a bottle of vino and everyone in the restaurant to leave and I could have sat there all night!
Thankfully, after that and with a little more eyelash fluttering from me, Marco eased into selling his new place Frankie's to me - I'm already a big fan of his other venue up the road on Dawson street. "We've created a concept here. It's fun, it's understated, it's affordable, it's not intimidating..."
"Unlike yourself," I joked.
"Why? Do I make you nervous?" he asked. I couldn't lie, my face was bright red. "Very," I said. "Well you're doing very well. You'd never know."
Not wanting to dwell on my mortification, I quickly asked Marco to review the competition - aka Richard Corrigan up the road on Stephen's Green.
Snapped
However he reverted back to his alter ego Grumpy Marco and snapped: "Are we not supposed to be talking about me?" "Fine," I said, getting my confidence back. "Let's talk about you." Without a blink of an eye he chirped back. "No. I'm actually sick of talking about me!"
"Jaysus, you're worse than a woman," I joked. "I am worse than a woman," he laughed. "Much worse."
After a short chat about me and my life, and his own plans for the weekend, which mostly revolved around Frankie's - he actually ended up bumping into the Gallagher brothers in The Four Seasons and brought Liam and Noel back for dinner on the Sunday - I had to ask about his former protege Gordon Ramsay, and his recent bad behaviour in Australia.
"We all make mistakes but you don't say what he said to a lady," he pointed out. "I have a sense of duty to my country and my profession. It's very sad that he let himself and his country down with his actions.You really gotta question his motives."
As he loosened up, Marco even confessed that he's "better at talking to strangers than people I know" and we even shared our combined passion for greyhounds.
Impressed
However, it was what he did after our chat that impressed me the most. After I thanked him for taking the time to talk to me, I returned
to another table where my mum Betty was waiting for me. I didn't realise Marco had followed me. He arrived to my table and asked: "Is this your mum? I just want to say you have a charming daughter. She is a credit to you."
Not expecting to meet any celebs that day, my mum almost crumbled, while of course panicking that her hair didn't look well enough.
Despite his TV persona, I have to say, he ended up being a total gentleman, not just an amazing chef. If you haven't tried either Marco Pierre Whites on Dawson Street, or Frankie's, I suggest you do. Just as he said, it's cheap, it's cheerful, and you don't have to
wear a silly bandana to get a seat.