Thank you for writing this, I found that it’s a very persuasive way to convince people to expand their horizon, food or otherwise, by first asking “what do you like?”
That said, I am hyperfixated on one aspect of the article, which I know is not exactly your point, so my apologies in advance.
I am speaking of the Thomas Keller’s line, and I am very curious about your thoughts on “fine dining” as being hyper-precise when it comes to seasoning, plating, balance etc. to the point of, I think, selfishness by the chef-artist, but “fine dining” cooking is also considered the highest form of a hospitable act. I imagine that when a chef develop a recipe, testing out different level of salt and sugar, the chef is testing it based on their own preference (or their team), and can only hazard a guess as to how it would be received by their guest. At the same time, particularly when it comes to “fine dining” where I imagine the chef also pride themselves on the act of selfless hospitality, of “cooking for” another. How does this dialectic? Is one prioritized over the other? Or it is constantly a process of trial and error and you can only have sales number as the indication of success?
Of course, we can get into a sort of culture stereotype here such as the “Eastern” chef being collectivist and thus prioritize others, while “Western” artist is hyper individualistic so they only care about their own preferance, but I’m happy to leave those problems out for now.
Wonderful thoughts. You have to trust your palate. There's one thing you don't directly mention that could be part of a response to all three questions and especially the last two. It's summed up by the familiar Curnonsky quote (hard to trace to its source and get the words right, but very close to this): "Cooking! That's when things taste like what they are." And, somewhat separately, there's food that tastes of where you are.
And then, for me, there's the whole political and ethical side of eating, which, at least for me, has a huge effect on pleasure. I don't find it easy to write about, so when I write it's largely implicit, but it's a main reason why I write.
Re: "is it correct" - some conflict there with "do I like this". In particular if your very first exposure to the food was an inexpert, incorrect, yet heavily laden with nostalgia/meaning/psychology experience! "This carbonara I'm having in Trieste; I don't like it as much as the one my partner makes me. His is better." Epistemic of this sentence???
Yes, this is where you have to be honest with yourself. The three axes of expertise, correctness, and preference don’t always align. My favorite NY pizza is expert but incorrect, and my deepest memories of pesto come from jars my mum bought. I still want pesto to be like that, but I don’t think it’s particularly expert.
I started thinking about this when a friend of mine was going for the Master of Wine exam. He used to calibrate his palate every morning by tasting the same wine and writing down tasting notes.
Thank you for writing this, I found that it’s a very persuasive way to convince people to expand their horizon, food or otherwise, by first asking “what do you like?”
That said, I am hyperfixated on one aspect of the article, which I know is not exactly your point, so my apologies in advance.
I am speaking of the Thomas Keller’s line, and I am very curious about your thoughts on “fine dining” as being hyper-precise when it comes to seasoning, plating, balance etc. to the point of, I think, selfishness by the chef-artist, but “fine dining” cooking is also considered the highest form of a hospitable act. I imagine that when a chef develop a recipe, testing out different level of salt and sugar, the chef is testing it based on their own preference (or their team), and can only hazard a guess as to how it would be received by their guest. At the same time, particularly when it comes to “fine dining” where I imagine the chef also pride themselves on the act of selfless hospitality, of “cooking for” another. How does this dialectic? Is one prioritized over the other? Or it is constantly a process of trial and error and you can only have sales number as the indication of success?
Of course, we can get into a sort of culture stereotype here such as the “Eastern” chef being collectivist and thus prioritize others, while “Western” artist is hyper individualistic so they only care about their own preferance, but I’m happy to leave those problems out for now.
This is practically another essay in itself. Let me think about this and put some thoughts down.
Wonderful thoughts. You have to trust your palate. There's one thing you don't directly mention that could be part of a response to all three questions and especially the last two. It's summed up by the familiar Curnonsky quote (hard to trace to its source and get the words right, but very close to this): "Cooking! That's when things taste like what they are." And, somewhat separately, there's food that tastes of where you are.
And then, for me, there's the whole political and ethical side of eating, which, at least for me, has a huge effect on pleasure. I don't find it easy to write about, so when I write it's largely implicit, but it's a main reason why I write.
Re: "is it correct" - some conflict there with "do I like this". In particular if your very first exposure to the food was an inexpert, incorrect, yet heavily laden with nostalgia/meaning/psychology experience! "This carbonara I'm having in Trieste; I don't like it as much as the one my partner makes me. His is better." Epistemic of this sentence???
Yes, this is where you have to be honest with yourself. The three axes of expertise, correctness, and preference don’t always align. My favorite NY pizza is expert but incorrect, and my deepest memories of pesto come from jars my mum bought. I still want pesto to be like that, but I don’t think it’s particularly expert.
I like how this piece is really an argument for being open to new experiences and choices as a way to increase pleasure
I started thinking about this when a friend of mine was going for the Master of Wine exam. He used to calibrate his palate every morning by tasting the same wine and writing down tasting notes.