Showing posts with label musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label musings. Show all posts

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Frank Bruni vs. Anthony Bourdain

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/25/opinion/bruni-unsavory-culinary-elitism.html?_r=1&src=tp&smid=fb-share

Normally I don’t post angry screeds as blog posts, but I was so pissed off by this article by Frank Bruni that I had to post a response, in hopes that someone might read what I have to say. Bruni certainly won’t, and neither will NYT readers, but I guess I’ll put this out there anyway.

In the article, Bruni asserts that ‘culinary bad boy’ Anthony Bourdain has no place insulting Paula Deen, the Food Network’s queen of Southern cooking when he says, “[Paula Deen is] telling an already obese nation that it’s O.K. to eat food that is killing us.” Deen’s response? “Not everybody can afford to pay $58 for prime rib or $650 for a bottle of wine. My friends and I cook for regular families who worry about feeding their kids and paying the bills.”

Bruni claims, upon witnessing this interchange, that Deen is "...1oo percent justified in assailing the culinary aristocracy, to which even a self-styled bad boy like Bourdain belongs, for an often selective, judgemental and unforgiving worldview."

Ok, so Anthony Bourdain can be mean. He says nasty things about people he doesn’t like, and that’s one of the reasons we love him—he’s like a foodie Bill Maher. Both Maher and Bourdain can be extreme at times, and the tone they take is, in my view, interpretable as a necessary response to an existing system that is drastically out of balance. Still, mean or not, I have a hard time believing that Bourdain, a self-made man who climbed to the top from the depths of drug addiction and repeated career suicide, could ever develop a 'selective, judgmental and unforgiving worldview,' and I also have a hard time disputing the validity of Bourdain’s claim. Also, Deen’s response sure makes me wince.

Still, Bruni disputes where I would not: “To give [Bourdain] his due: we are too fat and must address that. But getting Deen to unplug the waffle iron doesn’t strike to the core of the problem any more than posting fast-food calorie counts or taxing soft drinks do. A great deal of American obesity is attributable to the dearth of healthy food that’s affordable and convenient in low- and even middle-income neighborhoods, and changing that requires a magnitude of public intervention and private munificence that are unlikely in such pinched times.”

Oh, is that so? Ah yes, he’s familiar with the green buzzword of the aughts: “Food Deserts!” It’s all about the food deserts, yes.

Wait...no. And it’s embarrassing that someone writing on any topic related to food would dismiss America’s obesity problem so off-handedly, especially considering that our heaviness as a country cuts right to the core of some of America’s fundamental food system issues. Yes, food deserts are an important concern, but Bruni completely ignores the thought that the culinary enculturation of minority groups and those sections of the American population with higher incidences of obesity might influence the foods they choose to buy and consume—exactly the kind of enculturation Paula Deen participates in by glorifying high-calorie, decadent cooking on a nationally syndicated TV show (I’m not even going to say anything about Down Home with the Neelys). Food preferences are determined by a whole host of factors: family tradition, cultural heritage, availability of grocery stores, education, income level, availability of free time. Does Bruni think that, come a future time of economic bounty, we might drop a few grocery stores with verdant produce sections into low-income neighborhoods and see a reduction in American obesity?

Bourdain’s point is completely valid, and while the characterization of modern foodie/celebrity chef culture as snobby, highbrow and full of ‘class-inflected hypocrisy’ may have an element of truth, such an idea utterly invalidates another positive result derived from America’s sudden interest in fine food and chefs as artists: the increase in awareness of what’s great, good, healthy and ethical to eat. The new food movement isn’t about eating hundred dollar steaks, it’s about understanding why you might pay a hundred dollars to eat steak in the first place.

Here’s another snotty quote from Bruni: “When Deen fries a chicken, many of us balk. When the Manhattan chefs David Chang or Andrew Carmellini do, we grovel for reservations and swoon over the homey exhilaration of it all. Her strips of bacon, skirting pancakes, represent heedless gluttony. Chang’s dominoes of pork belly, swaddled in an Asian bun, signify high art."

True, and very ha-ha, but again, he completely ignores context here. Chang and Carmellini don’t expect you to make their kind of food at home: as I said above, it’s art, and it’s the kind of sensory experience we’re meant to have only very, very occasionally, because it’s expensive and, of course, bad for our health. Deen, on the other hand, is broadcast into the living rooms of millions, and she is presented as a source for home cooks, people who are actually in the business of providing daily meals for their families and themselves. She said it herself: “My friends and I cook for regular families who worry about feeding their kids and paying the bills.” Besides, Bourdain wasn’t saying David Chang or anyone else is superior to Deen in the first place. He merely questions the decision-making that might lead anyone, whether Food Network executive or casual viewer, to mistake Paula Deen’s show as a source of useful culinary information. Bruni seems to think Bourdain is ‘looking down’ on people who don’t have the resources to make healthy food choices or run around eating fancy tasting menus at famous restaurants; I never heard that in Bourdain’s quote on Paula Deen, and from what I know of him, I doubt if he sees himself as being above anyone with a passion for great food. In fact, most of his show, 'No Reservations,' is about eating street food, family meals, and the true cuisine of countries around the world. I haven't seen every show, but in the episodes I have seen, I certainly haven't witnessed him enter a James Beard award-winning restaurant or a trendy conceptual joint like Alinea.

I could go on. But let me say this. Taking Paula Deen off the Food Network is not going to transform America’s food system, or its obesity problem...but neither is squashing loudmouths who aggressively question the status quo. Writing off any movement or change in zeitgeist as ‘elitism’ marginalizes those who have worked lifetimes to bring about change. Elitism is inevitable once any movement or group becomes institutionalized, but that doesn’t mean there is no genuine sentiment at that group’s core. Look, foodie culture annoys me too, and the heyday of evangelical locavorism and Iron Chef fanaticism is already tired, but America has come a long way in its evolution as a food-loving country, (have you seen cookbooks from the sixties?) and an increasing awareness of food as art, human rights issue and ethical choice can only be a good thing. And a show that teaches and encourages people to cook and consume fried chicken and massive desserts...how can that be a good thing?

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Food Snobbery (mine) and Strawberries to Dispel Cynicism


Since I do so hate my current kitchen, I have been eating out far too much in recent weeks. I am soon to be the proud owner of a new kitchen with a nice white stove and ample windows, and the moment I am there, my new cooking life will begin. Until then, I have a few thoughts on restaurant food.

At one time I greatly appreciated food theatrics -- the more dramatic the presentation or weird the conception, the more excited I was. And I still seek out the strange and unusual when I look at a menu. However, as my foodie life has slowly evolved, I have found myself seeking out a sense of heart and true purpose in the food I eat, longing for a depth that is often absent, especially in dishes that are reproduced thousands of times on the line and engineered for profit rather than fulfilment. I have recently encountered several such dishes that I feel compelled to mention here.

1. Sashimi in a martini glass. I always fail to be impressed by sushi restaurants in this town, not because I don't like sushi, but because it always tastes the same no matter where I go. Really, the deliciousness of sushi is based solely on the quality of the fish, and no matter how you try to hide it, Richmond is not a coastal town. So we slather tiny pieces of fish in mayonnaise, wasabi and sriracha and ignore the fact that the delicate, melt-in-your-mouth, nearly-alive freshness of a good piece of raw fish is universally absent. Apparently in some cases, the drama and fanfare isn't limited to sauces and fancy arrangements of colorful cylinders; one sushi restaurant I went to last week served a $12 seared tuna 'salad' in a standard martini glass. This came complete with strawberries around the rim of the glass and curly pieces of carrot hanging down from the sides like party confetti. Setting aside the fact that the salad was tiny and the tuna was bland, the dish deserved rejection based on the fact that it was hard to eat. Food in a martini glass is too high to comfortably pick up and consume. Stemware is meant to deliver liquid directly into the mouths of drinkers. When we're eating, we want lag time between picking up a bite and consuming it. We need that space between our food and ourselves -- that's where the pleasure of eating out materializes, in the air at the table, where we chat, laugh, and slowly fill our stomachs. The martini glass was a strange and uncomfortable interloper in that usually-pleasant process. I am never a picky restaurant customer, but I admit I asked for a plate.

2. Cilantro custard. I have been in the habit of drinking lately in expensive places. One such restaurant, which shall remain nameless, serves a spicy black bean soup that comes with this weird cilantro custard squatting gooey and green in the middle of a low bowl. I admit I actually ordered the dish because I was intrigued by the idea of an herbal custard, but as I ate the soup I realized that what I seek out in a black bean soup is a depth and robustness of flavor in the soup itself. Pomp and circumstance aside, if the black, beany part of the soup isn't good, nothing else matters. This soup? Well, it was okay. But having gummy, not-so-flavorful pieces of custard in my mouth as I was trying to appreciate the soup's spicy creaminess didn't add anything to my experience of the dish -- rather, it distracted. Cilantro custard for the sake of itself becomes a glaring knob on what I believe should be a profoundly minimalist and richly delicious article of food.

I do now feel obligated to try to relate at least one truly satisfying food experience I have had in recent weeks. A blog post consisting solely of complaints about the inevitably dissatisfactory nature of restaurant food won't exactly go down in internet history for its interest or originality. So as I contemplate what I've been eating and when I've ever felt truly connected with my food, I realize it's rarely been in restaurants, and I leave you with this image, one that should serve to dispel my latent cynicism: me on a gray, somewhat rainy Tuesday evening at the farmers' market snatching countless strawberries from the tops of the quarts we've been hawking at the market all May. I dig the green top of each berry out with my thumb. They've finally reached the peak of sweetness after a good break from the rain (wet weather washes out the color and density of flavor in strawberries). My lips and fingers are stained red and I've got seeds in my teeth. I eat them until my tongue hurts and I feel alive.