Michael was one of a kind. I was so very lucky to know him, to work for him and to be someone he called when he had great gossip! The Bat was my go-to guy on so many subjects: no matter the question, he'd have an answer. I smile thinking of all the times I called him from some restaurant table somewhere in the world, with a question about some obscure ingredient, taste, or item of tableware I was encountering. His depth and breadth of knowledge was astounding, and not just on things culinary--on music, art, theater, architecture, history, you name it. He was unfailingly generous...and that laugh! Oh man, it was so great to make the Bat laugh. What a sense of humor he had. I hope he knew how much we all loved him...

Michael was a true Renaissance man and a good friend to most everyone who had the good fortune to know him. He was a colleague of James Beard, a friend of Julia Child and mentor to many.
He was responsible for getting some of today’s best chefs to realize their dream and helped so many others along the way. At this year’s James Beard Awards Dinner, he and Ariane were given the Lifetime Achievement Award by the JBFoundation. Dan Barber, notable chef and guest speaker, said that night: “Michael & Ariane live the life we all want.” How truly remarkable that life was for him. He will be greatly missed.
It was a great privilege to have known him.
Jim Jondreau
www.cafejondreau.com

When I first began to free-lance, I sent Michael Batterberry a query letter.. I didn’t expect to hear anything (I was learning!!) but he called and assigned me a piece. The fact he himself called! It was Food Arts; a cover piece and beautifully done, was a validation. Although I was always totally intimidated whenever I would occasionally meet him, he always remembered me and inquired about what I was doing. And he seemed genuinely interested. Obviously, I didn’t know him at all –— but I do know what he did for me.

As a rule, when a writer is told that the Publisher would like to speak with him, the writer's stomach does a few flips. But that was never true when Beverly would tell me that Michael wanted a few words with me. For a chat with Michael was always an adventure, usually beginning with some kind words about an article that had been written. And then followed by some suggestions that were always -- always! -- right on the money. Michael had an unerring sense of what took a story beyond interesting, into the realm of fascinating. He perceived the world of cuisine (and pleasure) in an alternative fashion, seeing it from a different angle, with fresh eyes. He understood...things. He also had that wonderful, mellifluous voice. And he dressed so well. No matter what I wore to the office, he was dressed better. He was the Art Cooper of the food world. He was the one and only. We are the lesser for his departure...

Michael was the most sensitive, yet demanding editor I have ever worked for, gently coaxing ever greater efforts than you believed possible to round out a story with a bit more reporting or deftly able to tighten your phrasing in a lead paragraph. As a contributor to Food Arts and as his editorial colleague at M. Shanken, though Michael was a deep-down italianophile, he took my love of all things French seriously, and was always open to my story ideas for his wonderful magazine. Through his love of history and story-telling, Michael knew more saucy anecdotes from the pens of Francois Rabelais, Laurent Grimod de la Reyniere, Retif de la Bretonne and Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin than anyone, anywhere! He was a brilliant editor, engaged with life as few are and I miss him so much.

David Lincoln Ross

Michael Batterberry was a giant in the food world for over forty years. Long before we Americans were interested in what chefs were up to, Michael dedicated himself to improving the stature of that profession here. Along with his wife Ariane, he founded Food and Wine Magazine, Food Arts Magazine, and wrote the definitive history of dining in New York. You can read about his life and accomplishments here, and here. He went to great lengths to introduce people he thought should meet, and he made forceful recommendations for people he believed in. He decided I was right for the FCI’s Director of Culinary Technology position and cajoled the school into hiring me. I would not be who I am without him, and countless other people in this business can say the same thing. Michael was always searching for what was new –what was next. His eye was on the future but he had a deep appreciation for the past. His breadth of knowledge was staggering.


A few things the obituaries don’t mention: Michael was a sartorial wizard –the most dapper man I ever met. Despite always being the best dressed man in the room he was never, ever snobbish or stuffy. He could show up to a pig-pickin in a three piece suit and look perfectly at home. He had an amazing voice that easily held a room. His wit was sharp and dry but never biting. He was a great raconteur, but was also eager to listen.
Michael was gracious and generous and I am proud to be one of his protégés. I am sad I won’t see him again, but sadder for those who never got to meet him.

From Nils

I knew Michael Batterberry for 33 years. In 1977, he and Ariane hired me as their wine editor at the International Review of Food & Wine, as Food & Wine magazine was then called. We worked together in various capacities ever since. What’s more, strong professional ties quickly evolved into a close personal relationship.

Michael and I probably spoke every week and saw one another at least once a month for the past three decades. Michael was my mentor and a cross between the older brother I never had and a father figure. He was someone I knew I could always turn to, no matter what the occasion. In this capacity, I’m sure I was not alone.

One of my last memories was sharing a bottle of Chateau Mouton Rothschild 1970 with Michael, Ariane and my wife Heather at the Batterberry’s apartment this spring. We examined the wine’s color and bouquet and then took a deep sip. It was mouth-filling. The Mouton gets a terrific 96-point score from Wine Spectator, and is in part described as “extremely concentrated, generous and sensual.” Glancing across the room, I felt I was experiencing Michael Batterberry in the glass.

As a contributing "authority" for Food Arts for the past sixteen years or so, I enjoyed spending time with Michael and Ariane on several occasions. He was the like of what the French called "un honnête homme" in the 18th century: not only an honest kind, but an enlightened and educated one who could discourse on any subject without being the least bit pedantic. His knowledge of food, wine and history were exact: pity the poor soul who would try to pull the wool over his eyes: Michael's steely gaze could hurt more than a dagger! He was a dandy in the best sense of the term. We will all miss him.

Michael was a great editor, one who could point you in the right direction with a few words and then trust you enough to leave you alone. He was an elegant man--my husband's word for him was "cultivated"--who could talk about anything but never showed off. His manners were of an earlier time but his interests were completely up-to-date. Surely everyone who knew him must miss him.

I had the pleasure of working with Michael on the Emerging Tastemaker Awards over an all too brief period of time. His respect for chefs and his world view are two things for which I will always be grateful. I'm so honored to have had an opportunity to work with him and his team, however briefly. He and his wife were delightful dinner companions and I will always admire his gracious nature.

I'm so sorry to hear of his passing.

Ariane and Michael created a world of support, comfort and hope for all those young minds and souls that came knocking at the doors of Food Arts and looking for inspiration, a footing and more.

Barely out of my teens, I found in Michael and Ariane a reason to believe in myself. If they believed in me and my dreams, I decided it was OK to have such dreams and aspirations.

Better still, they provided all the support, all the connections and all the opportunities that one would need to keep dreaming and bettering themselves. Their partnership was dreamy, their personalities beyond brilliant and special and their ability to smile and give another hope something that is hard to find in this world. It is to both of them that I owe any and everything I have done in American since the age of 23.

Michael was part friend, part Uncle, part father and part God. Playing all these roles without perhaps even knowing, or perhaps with knowledge but without ego or control. Firm - always but very generous of himself and of the latitude he gave me in exploring that which I wanted to try. His reflections on that which was captivating my attention at any given moment were never too harsh if I were wasting my time, nor too gushy if I had succeeded in finding something relevant. They were constant in that magical way that Michael alone could give you support and advice - With a deep rooted belief in you and that you would succeed no matter what, as long as you did what was in your heart, what you believed in and what you did well.

Michael called me daily when my father was ill and this was for over 6 months. He was there even as distance separated me from NYC and what was home then. It was this kind of generosity that set him apart from other mortals. I cry as I remember him. These are tears of sadness not for his loss, but for the loss that many will face as they live a life without being touched by the combined genius of Michael and Ariane.

As I celebrate Michael even in his absence from this life, I also salute Ariane for what she brought to Michael and the rest of us. I know Ariane will continue where Michael and she left as a team, and only make the glow of Michael that much better with her own passion, magic and talents.

They were a special couple together. They were special individually and they will remain special in the lives of all the many that they touched together and alone.

We were fortunate, each of us that met Ariane and Michael - to have been blessed with their presence. And now as we celebrate Michael in his new abode, high in the sky, watching us mortals as he did every day whilst here. I know he will guide us even as we may crave his voice or laugh or stylish ways. But he will never be too far to guide us and inspire us even in the future. All we need do is to think of him and the many wonderful stories he left us with and Michael shall always be immortal.

Michael - you were a shining star. Protean in your capacity to change with time, in your ability to entertain the many different kinds of people you surrounded yourself with and you were deeper than any ocean I can think of. I throw pebbles of hope upon that vast sea of strength, hope, opportunities and magic that you have left me with, upon the banks of which I sit and watch the ripples that celebrate your amazing persona.

What an honor it was to have met Ariane and you. What an honor it was to have known you in the form of Michael Batterberry that we all miss today. And it was the blessing of all blessings that you agreed to write the foreword to Indian Home Cooking. You blessed me and my first-born in ways the world will never know or fathom. I am eternally grateful to you and shall always remain.

Suvir

I did not know him personally, but he and his wife's excellent publication is fantastic! I love reading through it whenever I get a chance. As an "Older than typical new cook," I see and read things about great Chefs, and fabulous cuisines in FoodArts, and it makes me realize the possibilities of what I can do! My wife and I are deeply sorry for you and your families loss, and for the loss of a great person for the culinary world in general. In his memory, I am going to make my wife and I a great meal tonight, and open one of my last bottles of 03' Don Melchor.
Cheers to you, and all of the cooks! MDY.

In July of 2009, We had the distinct pleasure of Michael and Ariane joining us for the launch of our newest ship, Celebrity Equinox, in Southampton, UK. From our first meeting, I stood in awe that such influential leaders in the world of food and wine were in our midst, joining us for this truly special occassion...The naming of our newest ship. As the evening progressed over dinner in Tuscan Grille, Michael regaled us in a way that only he could with rich tales of his experiences, travels and his love and passion for food, wine, the arts and our profession...And it was all delivered with that one of a kind style that was uniquely Michael.

Little did I know that Michael's life was entering its twilight and that we would lose him just one year later. That evening with Michael and Ariane will forever stand as one of the highlights of my life. And as Ariane continues to shine Michael's light on our world, I will be forever grateful for having had the opportunity to share a few privileged hours of my life with him; the inspiration he and Ariane provided that evening will forever guide me in all that I do.

Scott Steenrod
Director, Food and Beverage Operations
Celebrity Cruises

Michael was a real monsieur, a true gentleman and such a great proponent of our industry. He was a true visionnaire and because of his vision Food Arts became one of the first major magazines to inspire, encourage and champion so many of us. He was always kind and courteous and incredibly supportive of those he believed in. I pay homage to his passion and will certainly miss him.

-Eric Ripert

I first met Michael when I had just published "The Cruise Ship Cookbook" in New York. It was 23 years ago and I was then the corporate chef at Cunard Line and Executive Chef QE2 . Michael was such an inspiring person, a gentlemen throughout, who worked from his head and heart. His sharpness was second to none! And he was truly the Wikipedia of culinary resources. Whenever I asked him for any advice, whenever I was struggling with something (such as the idea of making the chef more visible through Guest Chefs at Sea programs and other appearances), he was immediately fond of the idea and helpful. In this case, that's how the first Culinary Chef Summit at Sea was born on the QE2 all those years ago. It's an unforgettable memory, all of us there together: Dorothy Cann, Jacques Pepin, Sirio Maccioni, Anthony Blue, Meryle Evans, Jacque Torres, Alain Sailhac, Lord Wedgwood--and Michael and Ariane, of course. Michael, I appreciated your friendship and those wonderful dinners we had together at Le Cirque with Sirio. You will be missed from my bottom of my heart!

Rudi Sodamin

I have been lucky to have been with Michael in a number of food panels. It was a joy to be next to him, listening to his remarks, his immense knowledge of the food world, his wisdom, his desire to keep freshness in every subject. We all know how dapper and handsome was his figure and his behavior, which he related to his very stylish magazine. Through Ariane, his legacy and style will continue, since he captured all of us and we can truly say that he was bigger than life.

Michael was a member of the food cognoscenti. There was no doubt about that.

But what made him such good company, whether at table or on the other end of a phone line, was that he lived a fuller intellectual and aesthetic life than most of us.

He could hold forth on literature. He could hold forth on music. Yes, he believed that food was its own sort of art, but he didn't stop there.

To know Michael Batterberry was to know the culture of food. I met Michael too many years and too many meals ago to remember, and by the time I decided to write my first cookbook in 1999, I thought of no one better to turn than the man who had dedicated his life to making the culture of food synonymous with culture at-large, a man who saw wisdom in studying where we had been and where we were going.

“Americans are pausing to reassess their national past and present in hopes of learning from what went wrong and, whenever possible, preserving what went right.” Those words, graciously written by Michael in the forward to my City Tavern Cookbook, ring as true today as they did then; as a nation, we must always remain students of our own history and look to the works of individuals who contribute so much to it, and we would all do well turn our attention to the life and works of Michael and all that he did right in his lifetime. Michael, more than anyone else, knew that it is not only armies that march forward on their stomachs, but culture as well. Our relationship with food moves us as a people, leaving a rich history and always giving us a promise, or a warning, of what the future may hold.

Michael, along with his wonderful wife Ariane, worked tirelessly to bring us into a closer and more satisfying relationship with the things we eat and the things we drink, pushing us to a better understanding of our culture and ourselves. In his life, as in his writing, Michael was charming and insightful and I join with the rest of those who knew him in cherishing the warmth and wisdom that he brought to the world.

In my farewell I saluted Michael's grace as somewhere between Fred Astaire and Cary Grant and especially appreciated his role as a culinary matchmaker.

I was shocked at the indignity of what seemed a premature death. His passion and inventiveness were so young. He never gave in to old fogyness like some of us. He was always open to new tastes, young talent, molecular daring and seemed to know what the next big thing would be…perhaps because he gave it a name in Food Arts.

It was just a few months ago we shared dinner at the Four Seasons where he told stories from the days of Joe Baum, the Kovi-Margittai years, and the Seppi Rengli kitchen. Graceful, ironic, biting, fun. Impossible to think he could go so quickly.

Wherever you were heading – Delhi, Barcelona, Tunisia, Cancun – Michael knew someone you should meet before you left and once you arrived, and an angle you might not have thought of for the story that would suit Food Arts’ professional readers. Horizons and friendships expanded through the connections he made for me and so many.

“A stylish couple, the Batterberrys. And perfect complements,” I wrote in a New York article about four cocktail parties called “The Sensuous Hors d‘Ouevre” in September 1976.

“Michael, the artist,” the copy read. “Ariane, the cheerleader. Michael cooks. Ariane handles social communications, cleanups, endless last-minute errands. Their accents are cultivated. The décor is brilliant clutter. Vaguely Middle Eastern and other ethnic tidbits are crowded on a table draped to the floor with a Victorian velvet-and-satin patchwork quilt."

“People are responding to the unusual, “ Michael observed. “We love a meal of many tastes. And it’s all self-service tonight. Passing hors d‘oeuvres interrupts good talk.”

The Bats, as their friends came to call them, stand at a big round table in black tie and brocade in Dan Wynn's glittering photograph. At the time they seemed so Scott and Zelda to me. I wanted to go home and copy everything. Tapestry walls. The vintage French mirror. Eighteen inch tapers in the Venetian candelabra. That patchwork quilt.

“Those who stay on will sit down for a peaceful pasta and a salad with fruit,” said Michael. It would be heaped on a Thai altar-offering plate.

“We collect dishes from everywhere,” said Ariane. “Especially footed dishes,” as she pointed to an antique Indian plate, “possibly a leper’s,” she said. “Sterilized, of course.”

I recall a formal evening with them in 2003, just the three of us. He wore classic black tie and velvet slippers with his father's evening wallet in a back pocket.

A twist of jet and chunky rhinestones from Ariane's huge costume jewelry collection glittered against the velvet striped black chiffon of her Gianfranco Ferre tunic. They were unfashionable early for an American Ballet Theater gala. To read more click here please.
http://bit.ly/bPWpX8

When I received the call that Michael had died, I felt that a little sunshine had disappeared from my life. I realized that I would never hear Michael’s marvelous voice again. I loved it when he called. A great raconteur, he always had a story or an idea to share with me. Of course he would shmooze about some wonderfully gossipy event. In the early years, I loved hearing about people like Leo Lerman whose parents were deaf and dumb. Leo would sit in the Oak Room of the Plaza lip reading what people were saying across the room.

Michael always asked what my husband Allan was up to, what the girls were doing, and how my son David’s acting career was going. He was a positive support for my whole family. Believe me, when Michael and Ariane show up for a son’s play, they must be friends!

I met Michael and Ariane–isn’t Michael and Ariane one word?–in 1968. It was at a mutual friend named Bill Bernhard’s Christmas eve party and Michael and Ariane were newly married. Later, ever the matchmakers, the two introduced Bill to his wonderful wife Catherine. And Bill, with great enthusiasm, introduced the Batts to me as two people who wanted to give Gourmet Magazine a run for their money. They wanted to create a new magazine about food and wine that would attract men like Michael who liked to cook. As all brainstorms Batterberry style the idea took hold and you all know the results. Through the years we became friends and I started writing for the new magazine.

In 1974 when On the Town in New York came out, the Batterberrys agreed to participate in the first Ninth Avenue Food Festival that I was curating. The two stood outside of Alps Pharmacy on 9th Avenue, talking and peddling their cookbook. At the time I thought how regal they both looked, yet so very down to earth they interacted with people.

In 2005 Michael and Ariane participated in Food Culture USA for the Smithsonian Folklife Festival. After the event, a woman told me how great it was to see such high and mighty people sitting on the lawn of the national mall and carrying on a conversation with regular people.

Michael was the food world’s catalyst, encouraging so many people. Dan Barber, Michael Nischan, his staff, his friends. The same joy with which he welcomed a new idea, he put into his own cooking, something he did so rarely in the later years.

Two years ago on New Year’s day, Michael invited Allan and me to dinner in their apartment with the Utleys. The dark, cloth adorned walls, always reminded me of a Proustian salon, like the one I imagined that Ariane’s mother held in New York. We had pate that a friend sent every year to the Batterberrys, followed by bigosh, an absolutely delicious Polish stew that Michael, wearing a white apron wrapped around his waist, cooked up for the six of us. Not a bad way to start the new year. Such joie de vivre in cooking, such joy for every day of life. For years Michael knew that he had a health problem, but like his age, he preferred to ignore it. When the Batterberrys received the James Beard Award’s Lifetime Achievement Award this spring, there was a standing ovation. And what did Michael, visibly moved, do, he elegantly kissed Ariane’s hand. Always a gentleman. Always doing the right thing. We will all miss him.

From the first moment I met Michael Batterberry, I felt I was in the presence of greatness. I had just graduated from The French Culinary Institute and was enthralled by his new magazine, Food Arts, “created for chefs!” as my fellow students were quick to point out. He amazed me with his elephantine memory and ability to put everything into historical perspective. We take for granted that magnanimous men such as Michael will just go on forever, and it makes his passing all the more deeply felt.

Michael is a great man and definitely a great loss to the industry. His life will be remembered...

Matthew JG
http://prochef360blog.com

My transition from foodie to food writer would never have happened without Michael. His openness to me--a halting stranger introducing himself to him after he spoke (fascinatingly) in a panel discussion--struck me as miraculous, but later I understood as pure Michael.

I feel him so present in all the comments above. The sound of his voice, his warmth and elegance and humor, the thrill of being told by Beverly, "Michael would like to talk with you," the slow pleasurable discovery of all the rooms and corridors and limitless galleries of his erudition and human experience, his partnership with the scintillating Ariane, on and on.

I personally owe him so much. The first FA story he assigned me was one he had been harboring for awhile till he found the right writer. That I was the man for the job he had no doubt, and his faith in me inspired me to do my best and then some, lest I let him down. The story wound up in "Best Food Writing: 2003," an honor owed largely to Michael's perception that there was a great tale to be told (about one restaurateur's response to 9/11) and to the imprimatur of Food Arts.

I once asked Michael if he would be the guest speaker at a meeting of my dinner group, Open Circle--a small group of men of different professions who gather six times a year over dinner to host a distinguished guest. Michael trekked out to Hoboken for the event--for the sake of the seven or eight of us--and left us all feeling embraced, elevated and enthralled.

Thank you, Michael, taken so prematurely, but having given so many so much in so little time.

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