Who was the original gastronome? Was it General Lucullus, the Roman epicure whose lavishly endless feasts spawned astronomical consumption (and the related vomitoria) in the centures proceeding Christ? Was it Epicurus (not epicurious), the hedonist who lived for the utmost pleasure in life? (not really, he just asserted that the greatest good is pleasure) Perhaps the Pharoahs of ancient Egyptians, who first fattened geese for their liver?
Now that the culinary world is officially global, superlatives abound for the world's best. Without a doubt, the king of the food world is Ferran Adria, whose innovative techniques have not only roiled the culinary universe, they've turned it about face. Sure giants like Alice Waters changed the way Americans approached food but she just brought over a French sensibility to the US. Or was Fernand Point, the father of modern haute cuisine the one to blame? Should be go back a bit further to Escoffier? Thomas Keller gets a nod for being the consummate American-born chef with his gems The French Laundry in Yountville and Per Se in New York.
There's a reason why basketball afficionados debate Kobe Bryant vs. Michael Jordan, or why footballers (soccer people) rave about Pele (an idol to my Brazilian-raised parents). Men love greatness, and we love to worship greatness. Even in our small culinary world of Los Angeles, we debate greater ethnic enclaves like San Gabriel Valley's sino-centric offerings versus South Bay's Japan-based spots. Or Koreatown's burgeoning status versus Little Saigon's amazing breadth (which I haven't yet witnessed). Michelin has just released its 2009 Guide to Los Angeles, with nary a highest three-star rating for our beloved town (none were deserving in my opinion).
The human tendency to adore and reflect greatness is innate. It becomes a matter of pride for many people. In fact, it's important for most people because who or what we worship reflects our legitimacy and worth. In the growing food culture of LA and America, superlatives are definitive. "Dude, I'm an ovo-lacto vegetarian." "Really? WEAK, I'm vegan yo." "Man, forget that mess, I'm macrobiotic all the way." "PISH, it's all about raw food."
Or consider the opposite extreme: "Man, I just went to Urasawa, and it was the greatest sushi in the world." "are you serious? Masa is so much better. He friggin' taught Urasawa and now he just got his third Michelin star!" "You guys are a joke. Pierre Gagnaire's food in Paris is without question the greatest three-star Michelin in the world. He's transformed French food and French food is the greatest food in the world." "Where have you been hiding, under a rock? Ferran Adria is unquestionably the greatest chef in the world, and his restaurant, El Bulli, is a marvel of cuisine." "Guys, you're so Western-Focused. Forget Michelin. The pinnacle of cuisine is..."
At this point, I would argue your mother's food, because nothing beats mom's cookin'. But in all seriousness, would you rather have your mom's cooking or Heston Blumental's The Fat Duck in England? I love my duck, I'll tell you that (Ironically I neither grew up on duck nor suspect Blumental's cuisine to center around the tasty bird either).
Like art, fashion, science, literature, sports, religion, academics, technology, food - all human endeavors crave a superlative. It's a seemingly endless, fickle journey that some achieve. Or do they?
Fernand Point and his restaurant La Pyramide is still revered by old-time chefs and gastronomes, but what about fifty years from now when I'm old and gray? What about Thomas Keller? What about Adria? Who will remember these people? How many of you knew Lucullus? (perhaps readers of M.F.K. Fisher)
Is there an end to greatness? By end, I mean, is there an end to that endless strand, theromometer, yardstick of greatness by which we measure things in the culinary world? Or the rest of the world, for that matter?
You're probably thinking that I've killed the rhetorical question a million times over but I'm not writing this for the Atlantic Monthly (a great publication by the way). I'm just contemplating the purpose of these food blogs and food publications who strive to highlight the bigger and better luminaries of the food world. Is good food, or the pursuit of good food consistent with the pursuit of happiness? I would argue that the joy of food has gotten lost in commercial constructs (like brands) or styles when in the end it comes down to pleasure.
I'll take that up a notch and say that even the pleasure of good food has its limits. We can only eat so much before our bodies either politely or crudely remind us that we've had enough. Call it diminishing marginal utility or just plain "I can't take any more." I'm convinced that like all things worth pursuing, food really points to something else, a greater pursuit of happiness, an ultimate satiation. Chew on that for a while and I'll get to the answer, or at least the answer I've found, next time. (Part 2 coming soon)
5 comments:
Very well written and thoughtful post. You really do a good job of putting the local food scene into national, international and historical context. At this point, it's hard to imagine any local chefs having historic implications. As terrific as the San Gabriel, Little Saigon and South Bay food scenes are, there aren't any breakout celebrity chefs that have earned acclaim beyond their tiny ethnic enclaves. That's what tends to happen if a quality restaurant isn't on the Westside. It's ignored, or at least doesn't garner the credit it deserves.
Deep, man...deep
Very deep. :) This post actually reminds me this episode of Anthony Bourdain I saw a few weeks ago where he ate dinner with a bunch of cred foodies and talked about food-related topics. His first question was, "I just spent $1900 on sushi for two people. Is that wrong?" I think that question boils down to the knowledge that the enjoyment of a meal is the pursuit of a temporary pleasure that may never be achieved.
Anyway, I look forward to reading your answer to your own question. :)
foodgps: greatness is often relative, but the worst would be to overlook greatness, like the quality of ethnic dining in Los Angeles.
glutster: deep? that's the only comment you could muster up? jk.
heidenkind: yeah, bourdain does take digs at this subject, but I intend to elaborate further. If anything I'm impelled to these thoughts because of a book I'm reading right now. I'll reveal the title in the next entry.
Your a wonderful wordsmith, a man of of great gastronomical knowledge, and I commend your writing... not to mention I'm slightly jealous of your foodie skills.
You should have been on that LA food panel, or the host at the very least ;)
Post a Comment