It is the tyranny of the ingredient. No longer is a successful dish on the American menu about a successful sum of its parts; it is about the parts themselves. Each ingredient is held up and examined like a precisely cut diamond.
The meal opened with a 1975 Diet Pepsi, served in a disposable bottle. Although the bouquet was negligible, its distinct metallic aftertaste evoked memories of tin cans one had licked experimentally in the first flush of childhood’s curiosity.
Terrific piece in Salon about questionable environmental claims from food producers by Anna Lappé, author of “Diet for a Hot Planet: The Climate Crisis at the End of Your Fork and What You Can Do About It” and daughter of Francis Moore Lappé. Together they run the Small Planet Fund, which supports grassroots groups that address hunger and poverty.
Oh, Adam Gopnik. To be fair, maybe there aren’t any female chefs in all of Paris.
The unholy monotony of watching Andrew Zimmern eat his millionth intestinal bit and say, “Oh, that’s good. It has that mineral, liver taste that I love.”
“Food is so many things: it is vital to life, it is a source of nourishment and of pleasure as well as an outlet for creativity. It fosters cultural identity and comforts those far from home. But no matter how ethical it may be, or how many antioxidants it contains, it will not save us. When we season our food with dogma and self-righteousness, we give it an unhealthy power over our ability to rationally consider its already vital place in our lives. If what you eat has become your religion, take care to serve up your message peacefully and palatably.”