Taken from an unknown interview sometime in early 2014...
Interviewer's Recorded Preview: I'm not sure if he's late on purpose, or if this is part of the "be patient with him request" I received upon him agreeing to this interview. As a known shut-in, the mysterious partner of the famous Louis Macell is apparently a descendant of a French Viscount, or Vicomte, and has yet to conduct an interview of this type. Why he has suddenly decided to break his silence and conduct this interview, I will never know. Either way, the room is prepared as requested. Soft lighting, an over-sized chair, and a light fragrance of citrus wafting from a oil warmer no closer than ten meters from him. I asked if I should prepare a light snack and Mr. Macell laughed at me. "Not unless you want to offend him," he said.
I: For the record, we are recording this conversation, if you could please give your full name as a form of consent.
LPM: (Guttural clearing of the throat.) Leopold Pyropus Macellarius.
I: Macellarius. That's Latin for "butcher" right? And pyropus is bronze? Is that why they call you the Bronze Lion?
LPM: (Silence)
I: So, Mr. Macellarius...
LPM: Baron
I: Excuse me.
LPM: Baron Macellarius. Baron Leopold Pyropus Macellarius the third, of the Pyropus Estate in Soissons, France.
I: My apologies sir...Baron. Mr. Macell didn't tell me of your lineage.
LPM: He didn't ask. He never has. I don't pay him to ask questions; I pay him to prepare my meals.
I: Right, yes of course. Speaking of which, my publisher is interested in interviewing the man behind the money, and some would say, the fame of Macell Paris, Macell London, and Macell New York. I'm to understand you've been seeking a licensing deal in Chicago as well.
LPM: Correct.
I: So, I guess I'll just ask it right out. What interest does a man like you have in financially backing one of the finest chefs in the world? While I'm sure it is an excellent business venture, there has to be more to the story.
LPM: I like food.
I: Obviously...
LPM: (Guttural sound.)
I: I mean who wouldn't like Mr. Macell's cooking. His customers wait almost a year for reservations and they have nothing but good things to say after eating his creations.
LPM: Was there a question?
I: No, I mean. It's just. Well, I'll say it. You look like a man who enjoys food a great deal, and Mr. Macell's recipes are known for their hearty, yet uplifting flavors...not for their...serving size.
LPM: So because of my size. I must not like delicious food. I must shovel nothing but processed meats and pure lard into my gullet each night. I must sit at a table and continuously ask for more and more helpings because I need more to put in my fat gullet. Is that what you're saying?
I: Sir, I don't mean to be offensive, but you are obnoxiously fat. I don't see how you can consider yourself a connoisseur of taste when you easily must be putting away five to seven thousand calories a day.
LPM: Let me tell you something, cupcake. Size is irrelevant when it comes to taste.
I: Cupcake? Who the fuck do you think you are you fat piece of shit?
LPM: (Clear creaking sounds)
I: Oh, Jesus Christ, look at you. What sort of publicity bullshit is this? Standing up and trying to tower over me. You think I'm scared of you? This interview is over. Tell Macell I'm going to destroy him in this article. What the fuck are you doing? Get away from me. Oh fu...(guttural gurgling followed by muffled screaming and wet, ripping sounds.)
LPM: Needs salt.
=== End Recording ===
