He’s got pluck

epicure

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Trading a less than glamorous life in Austria for the glitz and bright lights in the land of the free, Wolfgang Puck counts steadfast resolve as the catalyst to his illustrious success.

, He’s got pluckWhen the then 14-year-old Wolfgang Puck stood staring into a river from the top of a bridge in a little town in Villach, Austria, it wasn’t the image of a promising future chef that greeted him but rather, a sobering reflection of himself: a scared, confused coal miner’s son, fired just two weeks into his first job as a culinary apprentice at Hotel Post. “I seriously contemplated killing myself. Before I left, my stepfather said I would be back in two weeks,” says the hoary 61-year-old. True enough, dad’s parting words resonated harshly when the head chef, Rudolph Mosler, contemptuously told Puck just before kicking him out, “You are just good for nothing.”

Puck eventually headed back to the restaurant and sought refuge in the basement’s vegetable cellar, peeling carrots, dicing potatoes and staying clear from Mosler’s line of sight. His cover was eventually blown when he was discovered a couple of weeks later. Bowled over by Puck’s doggedness, the hotel owner transferred him to a sister branch, the Park Hotel where a gentler hand sealed the completion of Puck’s three-year stint.

From the May issue of epicure.

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