Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Wedding Bell Blues

I am not ashamed. I will admit it. I could not wait to see pictures of Chelsea's wedding. And when I finally did, I was in awe. That dress was to die for. She looked beautiful and even Hillary, not always the standard of fashion, was dressed and coiffed to kill. 

But there were no pictures or mention of the food and I am so disappointed. Knowing the bride to be gluten intolerant and a sometime vegan, I was expecting to read about a menu that rivaled the dress; a Vera Wang-like creation of gustatory elegance, Eastern refinement and cutting edge creativity. The last word in foodom. A new artisanal standard. 

Alas, nothing. No hint of crostini or peek at some fondant. No locally sourced, seasonally appropriate anything. I am crushed. The despair! (Did they eat?)


Bad Cop, Good Cop

There seems to be, anyway what borders on, an excessive obsession with food terminology these days. What? Do I dare say it? Am I writing blasphemy? (Can you write blasphemy?) But really, think about it. Twenty years ago: did anyone really care what we ate other than it tasted good and included fruit and veg? Our benchmark was that odd pyramid along with wash your hands before you eat. Period. The end.

There were no food police. There was no slow food, locally grown, locally sourced, farmed/not farmed, grass fed, organic, low salt, no fructose, near extinction, farm-to-table, seasonal, artisanal, bad fat/good fat…anything!

To borrow a phrase, the linguistic pot that governs our food choices today is over whelming and over done. There. I wrote it. It’s out. Now shoot me.

There is a revolving door of foods that shift from used to be good to bad to then okay, but just a little, to maybe you shouldn’t eat it after all. We are warned that unless it’s from the farm or the lake or the ocean next door, we are polluting the earth. We are no longer capable of knowing deep fried food might be bad on a daily basis so we legislate against it. Unable to read a food label or turn a box around, manufacturers are now being urged to print the stuff in front.

And, on a personal note, I do not enjoy the rain of guilt and disapproval when I ask for a burger that’s pink inside rather than charred to medium gray.

What’s happening to us? Do we lack the sense to understand the “everything in moderation” rule? Do we not get it already that we need to be given more descriptions, more delineation, more warnings?

Enough I say! You don’t have to remind me that we are living longer and healthier and all the exercise and food consciousness helps. I know that. You know that. Now, let me be human and goof off now and then.

Post On

I do not suffer from ADD although you might think so as this is my 3rd blog site. No, it's just a matter of finding a spot where I can write in peace, unfettered by endless complicated decisions about designs, settings, URL's or someone threatening the legal equivalent of shock and awe because my domain name was similar to theirs. 

So, here I begin again. Hopefully, this will be the last move and I can again focus on The Food (and me).