Raymond Blanc describes himself as "a micro-idiot". He is not casting aspersions on his diminutive height or his levels of intelligence. No, Blanc has invented this phrase purely for the purposes of conveying his almost insane attention to detail.
"I can't 'elp it!" he cries, his English heavily accented despite having lived here for 36 years. "I'm a perfectionist! I work 12-, 14-hour days. There is always more to be done."
We meet in Le Manoir aux Qaut'Saisons, Blanc's hotel-restaurant in the Oxfordshire village of Great Milton. At 62, he has won two Michelin stars, trained a generation of chefs and attracted an admiring clientele from all over the world since 1977. This year, he is the recipient of our outstanding contribution award, chosen by the OFM judges. You might expect him to be basking in reflected glory. When he enters the impeccably furnished lounge area, his brow furrows. "Too many cushions," he says, waving his hand at an upholstered banquette like a revolutionary sending a doomed aristocrat to the guillotine.
This attention to detail makes him a gifted teacher – 27 of his proteges have gone on to win Michelin stars. Former pupils include Marco Pierre White, Bruno Loubet and Ollie Dabbous. According to Dabbous: "At Le Manoir you learn the basics but to a meticulous level. Once that becomes your perception of normality and what is acceptable, there is no going back."
Blanc's considerable contribution to British cuisine – both as a teacher of chefs and on television – has made him one of the nation's favourite Frenchmen. How does he feel about his OFM award? "It's wonderful and I accept it gracefully," Blanc says. "I'm not so naive as to believe it means we've done it all. Absolutely not."
Chief among his current projects is building a new herb garden in honour of his 94-year-old mother, Anne-Marie, a gifted cook who was a formative influence on the young Raymond when he was growing up in Besanç--on, in rural eastern France. He was fired from his first job after giving advice to the head chef, so came to the UK, got a job in an Oxfordshire country pub, married the landlord's daughter and, a few years later, opened up his own place.
The hard work has come at a cost – his marriage ended in divorce as did his recent engagement. Has it been worth it? "Yes!" he says. "I still feel like a lucky waiter who escaped from France."
