In case you’re wondering: yes, he’s competitive.
But in a charming, almost playful way. Last night, he says, he got to bed very late. And on this early morning in the Engadine, which is still quite grey and also a trifle chilly, there he stands, good-humoured, smiling, and not a hint of yesterday evening’s hard slog. His first sentence is a friendly hello.
The second: “What are we playing for?” He grins.
We’re playing, I reply, to see how you react to the balls that may not fly anything like you want them to. To hear what you think about golf and about life. And about cooking, of course. He’s the Robert Wilson of chefs, but is he also the Robert Wilson of golf? My first question to him really ought to be: Is golf clothing only appropriate if it’s already a handicap in itself? But his answer has already been provided by his outfit, which does not look handicapped at all: he’s dressed in black. Sporty, elegant. Stylistically as perfect as one of his creations, for which gourmet-minded people from all over Europe travel to his restaurant and hotel, Schloss Schauenstein. And his game?
More than 20 years ago, he says, he was in Canada. For work reasons. A chef friend got him playing golf. For three years he played “only by feel and intuition”, but kept on practising until he finally found a pro who completely transformed his swing. We start our round together on the back nine of the golf course in Samedan.
For his first tee shot, he grabs the 4 iron and positions himself. He’s left-handed, like Winston Churchill, who was a great golfer and a regular guest in St. Moritz. And who once said: “Golf is a game whose aim it is to hit a very small ball into an even smaller hole with weapons singularly ill-designed for the purpose.” What Churchill and Caminada have in common besides golf: their relationship to Badrutts Palace. A suite was dedicated to Churchill there; Caminada runs one of his Igniv restaurants in the legendary hotel.
His first ball aims straight for the hole, with the second he is on the green; he putts and finishes one over par.
Satisfied?
«It'll do», he says.
Would you play a ball that landed in a cow pat?
“That hasn’t ever happened. In a tournament I would declare it unplayable, and if I was playing alone, just ignore it.”
Artichokes or aubergines?
“I like both. We’ve been growing artichokes ourselves for five years; we harvest nearly 1,000 per season. It’s a magnificent vegetable, the shape too. If I have to choose one or the other, it’ll always be the artichoke.”
It is no coincidence that he emphasises the shape of the artichoke: the man is an aesthete. And it doesn’t take long to realise that he not only has perfect technique, but also consummate style. He admits it candidly. “All I really want is to play elegantly,” he says. He would rather have a beautifully driven ball land off the green than to whack it clumsily and make it onto the green. But when he completely messes up his tee shot at the 14th, an expression of slight annoyance flits across his face. The next stroke does not land quite on target either, to put it mildly. Andreas Caminada is now standing in a small wood, looking for the ball. “In situations like this,” he says, “you need to keep your cool and stay humble. In golf, anyone who thinks they’ve got it made, will always be proven wrong. Pride has a way of catching up with you fast. That goes for cooking too, by the way.”
Hole 14 is a special hole on the Samedan golf course, which was first mentioned in the Alpine Post in June 1893 with its “short-napped, scrawny grass and the wide bed of a dried-up stream”. Difficult to play, but idyllic. Larch trees stand almost provocatively in your way and the water of a stream magically attracts the balls. In early summer you can sometimes see young foxes here, curiously watching the game. And something else is special. There was this Englishman, John Plant, who regularly came to St. Moritz for years and lived in Badrutts Palace. After he died, his niece contacted the Engadine Golf Club and said that John had stipulated in his will that his ashes should be scattered at the 14th hole. A few weeks later she turned up with the urn. No sooner said than done.
“That couldn’t happen to me,” says Andreas Caminada. “I’d rather have my ashes buried in a kitchen.” He laughs.
Is your ambition greater than your talent?
“Might be. However, it’s not a do-or-die kind of ambition, but rather the compulsion to never stop improving. For the love of what you do. Same for cooking and golfing.” In both disciplines he has reached the top of his game, so to speak. His restaurant in Schauenstein has been awarded three stars and his golf handicap is in single figures. This raises the question of whether it is easier to become a three-star chef or a single-handicap golfer.
“Good question,” he says, “both require a lot of work and commitment and the will to achieve. The difference is that you work on yourself when you play golf and when you cook, you work as a team.”
When Andreas Caminada talks about cooking, he always uses the word “we”. Team spirit is important to him. “You’ll never make it on your own,” he says. And he’s happy if his team are happy. He never loses his temper in the kitchen, although he admits it may have happened a few times long ago, during a stressful period early in his career. Yet he doesn’t go easy on anyone, and certainly not himself. His high standards have made him a brand in his own right. With over 100 staff and a reputation that extends not only beyond the borders of Germany, but also beyond Europe. He says: “Right from the start, I was very clear that I wanted to create a total experience for guests. Aesthetics have always been important to me. That goes all the way to the glasses and cutlery. Everything has to be just right.”
Have you ever been ashamed of a creation in retrospect?
“We have classics that have been on the menu every now and then for the past 15 years,” he says, “and we still like to show them to our guests today. But yes, there have always been some where I thought, “Oh, we’d better not do that one anymore.”
Pimento d’Espelette or Ras el Hanout?
“I like Ras el Hanout in a couscous. Piement d’Espelette is absolutely superb with Mediterranean dishes. I use both in my normal everyday cooking, at home too.”
No tree, no water can make Caminada lose his cool in this game. Although he confesses that he was a little nervous to begin with. When teeing off at the 16th, the clouds open up for a moment and with the sun his sangfroid comes to light. He’s definitely a fair-weather player. His ball whooshes off like a rocket, as if it were hoping to end up in space. And actually does come to rest surprisingly close to the hole. One more to bring it closer, two putts and he’s done. Par.
What’s the first thing you think of when you hear the name Tiger Woods?
“His affairs,” he says, smiling. Then he adds: “He’s terrific. A fantastic golfer. It touched me very much to see him make a comeback after all he went through. Sport – it’s all about emotions. That’s what I like about it.”
At the end of the game, he thinks of a parallel between the way he cooks and the way he plays golf: being open to new things. Trying things out. Seizing opportunities. “If it doesn’t work,” he says, “then at least you tried. Things might go wrong from time to time. There’s always a certain element of risk involved. But that just adds to the suspense. After all, we all need some excitement in our lives, don’t we?”
