//metrognome logo//

Actor Vincent Gallo has done some pretty nasty things in his life — wishing prostate cancer
 on film critic Roger Ebert for one — but they pale compared to what he’s doing to a Soho
 chocolatier who created a living tribute to the tempestuous thespian. ¶

Vincent Gallo is actually distancing himself from his own truffle. ¶

Earlier this year, Katrina Markoff, owner of Vosges Haut Chocolat on Spring Street, was
 looking for the Next Big Thing. She’d already made a splash with her dark chocolate flecked
 with wasabi, ginger and black sesame seeds, but a new inspiration eluded her. ¶

After weeks of experimentation, she was so burnt out that she even rented a film called "Get
 Well Soon." It was horrible, of course, but there was something about one performance — a
 brooding gaze, perhaps, a Neanderthal jaw — that screamed, "I am your truffle!" ¶

She emailed the actor — one Vincent Gallo — about how deeply she had been touched by the
 straight-to-video classic. Gallo emailed back. When they met in L.A., Gallo encouraged her
 to name a truffle after him. ¶

"Use my name, but only if it is the best thing you’ve ever made," he told her. (But no
 pressure, of course!) ¶

Four months later, Markoff had indeed crafted the perfect truffle, an ethereal mix of dark
 chocolate, walnuts and vanilla. Oh, one more ingredient: Taleggio cheese. Oh, and did I
 mention that the truffle is noticeably phallic? (You know what Freud said about the size of
 a man’s truffle...) ¶

Gallo did not approve. The overbearing auteur demanded changes. Markoff refused. "This has
 to be my vision," she said. ¶

Besides, any truffle worthy of the Vincent Gallo name must, by definition, offend some
 people, even its namesake. ¶

Mission accomplished. Now, it even looks like Gallo will skip Wednesday night’s unveiling of
 the very truffle that bears his name. ¶

As a fan of the truffle, I felt that Gallo had gone too far this time, so I called the
 pompous poseur myself: ¶

GERSH: Hi, is this Vince Gallo? ¶
GALLO: Who’s calling? ¶
GERSH: The reporter who’s been trying to contact you about the Vince Gallo chocolates. ¶
GALLO: (annoyed) The name is Vincent Gallo. ¶
GERSH: Great. I really want to talk to you about those chocolates — ¶
GALLO: (interrupting) I’m in a session right now. ¶
GERSH: A session, hmm. I understand. Tell me when I can call you back. ¶
GALLO: I will be editing my movie for the next three weeks and will not be talking to
 anyone. ¶
GERSH: Not even about chocolate this good? ¶
GALLO: No. (Hangs up.) ¶

Four weeks later, I called Gallo again, thinking that he’d finally be excited to talk. Here
 is my second attempt: ¶

GERSH: Hi, I need to speak to Vincent Gallo, please. ¶
GALLO: Who is calling? ¶
GERSH: It’s that reporter from the Post who called you a month ago to talk about the
 chocolate. I figured I’d call you back to see if you want to talk about the great Vincent
 Gallo truffles that your friend, Katrina Markoff, made. ¶
GALLO: Sorry, I can’t help you. (Hangs up). ¶

When I called Markoff, she wasn’t surprised. ¶

"Omigod! He is so rude!" she said, growing angrier as the betrayal melted over her like a
 bitter Valrhona ganache over roasted Sicilian hazelnuts (another Vosges delicacy). ¶

"I hate judging people, but I don’t like that behavior! I’m a little angry. Actually, I’m
 very angry. This is the best chocolate I’ve ever made. That’s just so rude." ¶

--30--