No. I feel like Don Quixote tilting at windbags.

Your psychology is every bit as good as your culinaria. Nearly.

I am put off by specious twaddle with no real bearing on
daily kitchen operations that are offered as realistic. I'm
disturbed by grossly incorrect statements that might lead
others to reach the same impractical conclusions. I'm
distressed by lazy research and incompetent assertion as
results of it.

No. Really? I believe I said that, but it was no brilliance
on my part. Your words exemplified the concept of "res ipsa
loquitur."

All the more shameful, given the resources available to you.
You've absorbed nothing from what is arguably the culture
with the most advanced and detailed culinary tradition on earth.

I'm not sure I believe you. Most upscale French restaurants
cook in copper. Most French homes - as you should well know
- don't use so much copper cookware.

Which Troisgros was it? Let's see, there's Pierre who makes
tomato sauce this way:
    "In a large saucepan, combine 1 tablespoon of the olive oil
and the
onion, cover the pan, and sweat the onion for about 10
minutes over
medium-low heat.
    "Add the tomatoes, thyme, bay leaf, garlic, 1 tablespoon of
the vinegar,
the honey and 1 additional tablespoon of the oil. Simmer,
uncovered,
over medium heat, until much of the liquid has evaporated,
about 15
minutes. Discard the bay leaf, and season to taste with salt
and pepper.
    "Put the entire mixture into a food processor and puree.
Put through a
fine sieve."

Or maybe - probably - you misunderstood this from
Marie-Pierre and Michel:
"Cooking / The tomato
    "The tomato represents part of my roots, an ingredient that
was essential in developing my sense of taste. Before using
tomato, I often roast it for a long time to further
concentrate its flavours, give it more acidity, bring out
the sweetness and firm up its flesh."
[...]
    "Finally, and perhaps most surprisingly, I also use
tomatoes in classic sauces and compotes. In this case it’s a
matter of drawing on what might be called “the spirit of the
tomato,” that surprising mix of sweetness and acidity
combined of course with its flavour. This is the case, for
instance, in the “Derrière de lapin à la mauresque”
(Moorish-style rabbit legs), where the tomato, as in many
traditional cuisines, serves as an acidic binder that
“carries” the herbs and spices."

Or maybe the recipe for "Tart Tomatoes"
    "Peel the tomatoes by dipping them in boiling water to
loosen the skin. Cut each tomato into 4 “petals,” removing
the seeds, and line them up on an oiled baking sheet.
    "Salt, pepper, and sprinkle lightly with sugar. Drizzle
with olive oil and roast very slowly in an oven at 100 C
(225 F, gas 3-4) for 3 to 4 hours. The longer they cook the
more wrinkled they will become and the more their acidity
will be accentuated.
    "Store them in a covered container, with olive oil to cover."

Interestingly, that last instruction isn't a good one.
Botulism is a distant possibility.

So, having watched a documentary you're unequipped to
understand, you extrapolated to *all* cooks what this man
does. So you talked about ceramic pans from other European
cultures. So you concluded erroneously about what was going
on. So you took *one* source as *all* the information there
was about it? You're not a cook, to be sure; you're not a
logician, either.

<LOL> I've eaten with them a few times over the years, last
maybe 15 years ago. They also have claimed to have invented
many new techniques, some of which stand scrutiny. They were
last at the popular forefront with Cuisine Minceur, and
that's a long time ago.

In parting, here's a tasty recipe from them:
        Sweet-and-sour cherry tomatoes
    Match these tomatoes with pan-fried foie gras or veal liver
with bitter orange sauce. Be sure to keep the liquid from
the marinade, which can be used again. It’s so flavourful
that you can use it as a dressing for a salad of beetroot,
carrot or cabbage. I also like to contrast these tomatoes
with ewe’s or goat’s cheese.
    60 cherry tomatoes
    500 g acacia honey (1 lb 2 oz)
    40 cl sherry vinegar (1 2/3 cups)
    3 garlic cloves
    1 sprig rosemary
    1 vanilla pod
    3 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
    Salt, pepper
    60 coriander seeds
Dip the tomatoes in boiling water for a few seconds to
loosen their skins and peel them. Place them in a heatproof
dish, tightly packed. Season with salt and pepper. In a
saucepan, boil the honey until lightly caramelised. Add the
crushed garlic, a slit and seeded vanilla pod, rosemary,
coriander seeds and olive oil. Pour this mixture over the
tomatoes to cover them well and bring briefly to a boil. Add
the vinegar off the heat, cover and leave to cool on the
table. Set aside in a cool place for at least 24 hours, to
allow the tomatoes to soak up all the flavours.

Au revoir...

Pastorio