Photo by Elsa Hahne
In the last 15 years, chefs have undergone a remarkable metamorphosis. Back in the day, a cook and a waiter would meet working in someone else’s restaurant. After a few drinks one night, they would hash out a plan, save their money and open a small place together. The chef was not well- known and even more rarely seen. The maitre d’ was the face of the restaurant. When clientele bragged about being able to get a table at any time in the city’s hot restaurant, it was because they knew the maitre d’, not because they did the chef’s taxes.
All of that has changed. Chefs are ambassadors of a brand. They have a flagship restaurant and roll out concept restaurants which combine things like Mexican street food with a bowling alley in Reno. They have cookbooks and seem to spend more time talking about food than cooking it. Yet, through it all, Patrick Van Hoorebeck has always just been a maitre d’. And looking around the New Orleans dining scene, not only is he one of the best, he is unfortunately one of the last.
Born and raised in Belgium, Van Hoorebeck has been a fixture in New Orleans dining circles for decades. Versailles, Peristyle and the Rib Room are just a few of the restaurants that have benefited from his presence. He has most recently landed at Restaurant August, the flagship of John Besh and Octavio Mantilla’s growing culinary empire. “When they brought me here, [John and Octavio] said to me, ‘you are home now,’” says Van Hoorebeck, “and they really meant it.”
To watch Patrick (pronounced “Patreeck”) work the room is akin to watching a conductor lead a symphony. With a crooked arm, he escorts your date to the table and offers the two of you a glass of champagne as you settle in. A whisper to the captain delivers a plate of hot bread and butter.
He may touch the back of a waiter’s arm, a seemingly innocuous movement which results in a canapé or two before your meal begins. Van Hoorebeck will circle back many times before the meal is over. Each time he brings a gift. Perhaps it is
a taste of Fernet Branca, a story, or maybe even a smile.
While a cook may begin his day at four a.m. by heading to the market to smell fish, Van Hoorebeck begins his day in a much more dignified matter. He gets dressed, always to the nines, sits down, and has a glass of champagne at eleven in the morning. He picked up this “habit” while working in a brasserie in Brussels as a student. “Every Saturday morning, and I mean every Saturday, this gentlemen would come in dressed impeccably. He would sit at the bar and order a glass of champagne. And I said, ‘One day I would like to be that way.’” says Van Hoorebeck.
If it is a Saturday, Van Hoorebeck will make his rounds. He visits the Ritz-Carlton, the Windsor Court, and a few other select hotels, dropping off freshly baked chocolate chip cookies to concierges (another occupation losing relevance in today’s information overload environment). At lunch, he may drink a touch of wine. Champagne is his “vice of choice”, and Chateauneuf-du- Pape—that rich, earthy Rhone stalwart—his favorite red wine.
Wine has become a particularly fun diversion for Van Hoorebeck. While working at other restaurants around the city, representatives from wineries around the world have sent him large format bottles of their wines, which Van Hoorebeck proudly displays and enthusiastically drinks. “When I turned 50, I had a party called “50 at 50.” I opened 50 of those bottles and invited 50 friends. It was a good party,” he explains.
His love of wine blends his professional and personal life with harmonious results. Ten years ago, on the Friday before Mardi Gras, a New Orleans Friday lunch turned into an impromptu parade. That group of diners has evolved into the Krewe of Cork, and Van Hoorebeck presides over it as King. The Krewe of Cork “parades” two Fridays before Mardi Gras. They drink wine and waltz through the streets of the French Quarter. In any other city, that would be called a major event; in New Orleans that is pre-gaming.
Attention to detail is critical to Van Hoorebeck’s job. He claims he can read a diner immediately and tell if it is a first date, anniversary, or business meeting. Depending on the occasion, he will adjust the service accordingly. He believes one can judge a restaurant based solely on two criteria. “The first thing I do when I go to a restaurant is use the bathroom,” he says. “I want to see if it is clean. If they care about the bathroom, it will show everywhere else. And I always order coffee. Why? Because that is the last thing a diner tastes, it should be perfect to send them away with a smile.”
There is little national celebrity for someone like Patrick Van Hoorebeck. No chance to have a reality series or a collection of maitre d’ inspired suits. But given the choice between another celebrity chef’s line of grilling sauces and one more Van Hoorebeck, the choice seems obvious.
