I feel like inviting Michael Pollan over for dinner. His diatribe in yesterday's Sunday New York Times Magazine was so darn sad, it inspires me to make him a chicken.
Titled "No One Cooks Here Anymore," Pollan's article presented a ying-yang view of food in the U.S.-- comparing past to present. For page after wistful page, Pollan waxed poetically about his childhood watching Julia Child in all her public television glory take on boeuf bourgignon,, duck a la orange and mousse au chocolat. Then he turned to his current despair in discovering that cooking has become a "spectator sport" in America and that suburban Moms are buy frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, lest they deign to go through the arduous task of making the lunchbox classic themselves.
Michael: The women that buy frozen PBJ don't want to cook and have availed themselves of any tool necessary in order to avoid it.
On the flipside, there is a reason that gourmet supermarkets like Whole Foods and local greenmarkets are flourishing. There is very strong microcosm of the U.S. that has thrown themselves full-throttle into the culinary arts. Whether it simply comes to appreciating fine food or actually hitting the stove, it's a revelation.
Hasn't Michael Pollan seen how many people share photos of everything they consume on Flickr and alike? He might see it as part of the "spectator" aspect of food these days, but I think it has more to do with the savoring. These amateur foodies and photogs are snapping a fleeting image of a plate that goes beyond sustenance, taking it further into the realm of art.
Cooking hasn't disappeared. It's morphed. It's being cherished by a group of fervent foodies who don't -- and won't -- give up on the pleasures of the frying pan, whisk and blender.
Case in point: This weekend alone I whipped up tart and creamy Avocado Dressing, made Fettuccine with a rich Lemon Cream Sauce, brewed a pitcher of fresh Sweet Iced Tea, put together a fragrant batch of Basil Pesto, and indulged in the culinary hug that is making a Roast Chicken with Asparagus, Potatoes and Carrots (see above).
I made the bird for a friend who is in a bad way. Not Michael, mind you. Another pal.
But, Michael: The offer still stands. Just let me know when you're ready. Roast Chicken will be yours. I'll have my roasting pan on standby and the butcher on speed dial.
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