1.
Lyubomir Stanisic is crazy.
It’s completely crazy.
Aggressive, visceral, mean, uncomfortable, all undesirable adjectives on the list.
He does things no one else can do, he’s a bit like unaccountable, if he did no one would care because we’d give him the discount.
Last week he gave a kind of sole (without tongue) to Joao Manzara. She kissed him on the mouth, but like everything else in Stanisic, it wasn’t just a peck, something the English would see, it was a full bodied “chucho”, if it was meant to be, it was meant to be.
two.
Stanisic is an extraordinary personality.
There are days I hate it, but think a little bit and adore it – for the exact same reasons I hate it.
It’s just that we all look domestic and he’s suddenly the opposite. He doesn’t give us anything for free, he doesn’t seem to want us to love him, he doesn’t make concessions, he doesn’t say things to look good in the picture, the man is the opposite of time asking who he aspires to win.
If the image of those who are successful in the media is carbonated by the stars of the red carpet, then Stanisek sows chaos, flaws and noise.
If successful need good relations with political and economic power, Olympiad Stanisic does not care, insulting politicians and bankers without measuring the consequences.
If successful self-talk exaggerates events to draw crocodile tears, Stanisek talks about his life like a surgeon talks about a routine operation.
3.
Chef Lyubomir is crazy, but let’s not get too carried away with the basics.
Of his merit, his ability to work, his vision and creativity, what he has achieved with merit and always being the opposite of what he thought it should be.
And the terrible thing happened.
Terrible his birthplace, Sarajevo.
The bombs he used to hear in his childhood, people crippled in body and soul, neighbors being killed and given to street dogs.
Terrible child accustomed to arms, war, death and destruction. And he holds so many dreams in his head, with so much desire to make them come true, firing machine guns and counting the moment when he can fly to another world – even if it’s a world after death that he probably thought was the only way possible.
4.
He managed to escape, he came to Portugal, he turned 25 last summer. He came with nothing, slept on a park bench and ate what volunteers of various associations gave him or what he found here and there.
But her dreams were strong.
And his talent prepares endless dishes in imaginary kitchens. He went to ask Vitor Sobral about work, became a freelancer, opened his own restaurant and his concrete ideas were like his dreams, paranoid, beyond reason.
And I went bankrupt.
And he went back to sleep on the street.
And he had a restaurant again and called it 100 Maneras. He gained notoriety, then awards, then money, then fame, then a Michelin star.
He’s made TV shows where his success has been brutal – he’s in the shows what he is in life, an obnoxious and uncompromising man, but in that cruelty there’s a certain tenderness, a still-childish way, an idealism that makes him unique.
This causes him to go on a hunger strike, causing him to scream and curse or stir up the country’s brown waters.
5.
That’s what I love about it.
That’s why I like him.
We’re so routine with the same agendas, the same clothes, the same behaviors, that it’s really hard for us to accept people who don’t accept being the norm, who don’t accept being bland, personable, and boring.
I prefer Stanisic to many of the perfect people we see around – it’s the perfect, pure people I’m afraid of.
not for him.
It is as it is.
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