Don't Yuck My Yum
Why tastemakers think you have no taste, a bright and funky salad, and the best things I ate last month
You may have heard of BJ Novak’s new food concept called Chain. In current form, it’s an Instagram-only popup where there are periodic “hype drops” of recreations of famous dishes popularized by popular chain restaurants, such as the Bloomin’ Onion from Outback Steakhouse or the potato skins from TGI Fridays. While it currently exists in its Instagram popup form, Novak has been talking about this concept for a while, explaining on an episode of the podcast Air Jordan that his dream is essentially to create an imitation of a chain restaurant that could be in neighborhoods that would normally not allow chains, mimicing the aesthetics down to the red booth chairs and laminated menus. He insists, however, that, the food will be “done really well.” (a move that Food and Wine Magazine declared “genius”). Essentially, Novak is proposing a place where you can, for a premium, live action role play as middle class for a couple hours, minus the indignity of actually eating at a chain restaurant.
This condescending approach to middle class food via ironic homage is hardly new. In 2012, the internet went crazy over a review of an Olive Garden by food critic Marilyn Hagerty, the reactions ranging from ridicule to patronizing fawning: reactions she herself found to be “rather condescending.” Nearly a decade later, the internet is full of memes about our collective love for Olive Garden’s breadsticks and snowstorms of parmesan (though it’s still condescending at times). The same year, the internet delighted in the New York Times’ scathing review of Guy Fieri’s Times Square restaurant. In 2021, there are recipes, videos and articles galore about Fieri’s signature Donkey Sauce, and for the price of $79, you can order BBQ Pulled Pork Trash Can Nachos straight from Flavortown via Goldbelly (or watch a Bon Appetit test kitchen personality recreate it for free on Youtube).
This attitude is not limited to how we look at restaurants or even class divides in food preferences. I would argue this pattern — put down something popular or generally inoffensive, then suggest something why some alternative the tastemaker is proposing infinitely better — is prevalent in all forms of food media and is most likely a just lazy way of asserting authority in taste. In a world where the once-rarified food spaces are accessible via celebrity chef popups, services like Goldbelly, and easily imitated Instagram aesthetics, tastemakers are increasingly scrambling to find a way to differentiate themselves. As a result, they put something down in order to assert themselves as authorities of good taste and, more insidiously, proper class. It’s incredibly difficult and time consuming to establish a unique voice that gives a food personality credibility. In a crowded food media landscape, it’s much easier to aggressively assert that something common or banal is bad as a way of differentiating one’s own taste from those of the masses. Plus, in the age of social media, nothing gets that precious engagement quite like a hot take.
Take, for example, the viral Cascatelli pasta created by Dan Pashman, the host of the popular food podcast The Sporkful. Across the podcast’s 5 episode “Mission Impastable” series, Dan chronicles his attempt to create his own pasta shape. The first episode, titled “Spaghetti sucks” lays out a tongue-in-cheek argument for what is ultimately Dan’s opinion that a pretty popular and benign food does in fact suck. It’s done with lighthearted touch, but it does play into this trend among food tastemakers. Bon Appetit magazine in recent years has probably been the most notorious offender: see: “How to make Hamantaschen Actually Good,” (knocking the traditional preparation of a Jewish cookie, by someone who isn’t even Jewish); “The Lightest, Creamiest Pumpkin Cream Pie - Mom (kinda) Knows Best" (correcting a beloved family recipe from the mother of the former Editor in Chief), or this example I saw just last week from its sister website, Epicurious, titled “The Only Good Waffle is a Crispy Waffle” (where the author himself admits in the article that it’s just his personal preference, but seemingly the editor felt the need to write a more assertive title). Conde Nast is hardly alone in this practice. If you google "Better than Takeout,” a designator ostensibly reserved for dishes with Asian ingredients, you’ll see plenty of hits from hugely popular blogs such as What’s Gabby Cooking or Half Baked Harvest, the implication of course being that Asian takeout is fine, but you, white girl with a sriracha bottle in her fridge, can do better. Or, much like Pashman’s declaration that spaghetti sucks, sometimes it comes in the form of a popular food personality like Alison Roman simply declaring, without context, that pureed soup is gross.
Often this dismissmal of the popular is done in a joking way, meant to provoke mock outrage about relatively benign subjects. There is, however, an implicit value judgement being made whenever a popular food personality declares something gross or their version of something an improvement upon the original. It solidifies these opinions of tastemakers as fact. There are certain things that somehow are universally accepted as bad taste. I missed the meeting where the internet determined that the love of food and the appreciation of angel hair pcasta are mutually exclusive. Donald Trump’s preference for well done meat was dissected so thoroughly that you would think his greatest offense was being unintentionally lowbrow (this despite that fact that many people do enjoy well done meat). At some point, green bell peppers became the culinary equivalent of Imagine Dragons — I know I’m supposed to strongly and vocally dislike them, but I am not sure why.
This pattern is just the ugly step sister of the already shitty concept of “guilty pleasure.” The use of this phrase is a tacit aknowledgement that a person knows something is not in good taste, but they are permitted to enjoy it because they are keenly aware of what is actually tasteful. Most people wouldn’t call eating beef a guilty pleasure, despite being the kind of food that we should feel guilty about, because that’s missing the point. Guilt comes not from any sort of moral dilemma, but from debasing yourself into enjoying something tacky.
A few weeks ago, my family celebrated a milestone birthday for my brother. One of my favorite qualities of his is that he is completely devoid of any pretence or concern for taste. He likes what he likes, and he has been remarkably consistent for last 3 decades of his unironic love of chicken tenders, orange soda and the complete culinary oeuvre of Romano’s Macaroni Grill. To celebrate, I made him his favorite dinner, spaghetti and meatballs. Yes, I am aware that Italians would never pair speghetti with red sauce and meatballs and no, I did not use a premium spaghetti that came from a copper dye, (I think it was a box of my parents’ favorite brand - which changes depending on which brand is offering BOGO that week). The best compliment I’ve ever recieved for my cooking came from my brother the first time I made this dish, when he declared that it tastes just like the spaghetti and meatballs from Macaroni Grill. When I bragged about this to his friend who had joined us for dinner, he nodded, clearly impressed, and said without a hint of sarcasm, “Woah, thats high praise.”
Recipe: Imitation Salad, inspired by the Siam Salad from Leon’s Oyster Shop
I like pairing fried food with something fresh and bright. When I ordered the famous fried chicken at Leon’s while in Charleston, pairing it with their Siam Salad was just an afterthought. It ended up being the best thing I ate all vacation. This one is for all you crunchy salad lovers.
Serves 4
tablespoon vegetable oil
tablespoon sambal oelek
tablespoon fish sauce
tablespoon rice or apple cider vinegar
2 teaspoons maple syrup or honey
1 small bag of slaw mix ( I like the kind with both red and green cabbage)
1/2 cup loosely packed mint leaves
1/2 cup loosely packed cilantro
1/4 cup roasted, salted peanuts
1 tangerine cut into segments or, if not available, 1 mandarin
at least 1/2 cup crispy fried shallots or onions, though if you’re a hedonist like me, go to town
In a large bowl, whisk together the vegetable oil, sambal, fish sauce, vinegar, and maple syrup until combined. Add slaw mix and toss to coat (cabbage is pretty hearty, so you can do this step an hour or two ahead and it won’t get soggy). Before serving, add mint and cilantro and toss again. Top with peanuts, tangerine, and as much of the fried shallots as you can get away with.
Make it extra: If you can’t find the shallots/onions or are looking for a fun experiment, try microwave frying your own.
This Month’s Hits and Misses
If you follow me on Instagram, you probably have noticed that much of my cooking these days have been for my part in the upcoming Food52 book review for science-based cookbooks. My fellow reviewers and I have been working our way through The Science of Good Cooking, by America’s Test Kitchen, The Flavor Equation, by Nik Sharma, Cookwise by Shirley Corriher and The Food Lab by Kenji Lopez-Alt. I’ll surely link to it once it’s done, but the two best things I made this month came from The Flavor Equation (Roasted Sweet Potatoes with Creme Fraiche and the Hazelnut Flan). The cookbook is really excellent, albeit not beginner friendly.
As far as misses go, I made an overly-complicated roast chicken from Cookwise that resulted in two minor injuries and a vegetarian indian curry from The Science of Good Cooking that reminded me why takeout is usually better, notwithstanding what the instagram food influencers would say on the matter.
Recommendations
Last week I went on a little road trip around Florida, Georgia and the Carolinas and had lovely time, which means I ate very well. Below are the best things I ate, in case you find youself in one of those places:
a rich flourless chocolate cake with cajeta whipped cream and a salty cacao nib ice cream from The Admiral in Asheville, NC
a perfect cappuccino at Trade and Lore in Asheville, NC
pillowy ricotta gnocchi and creamy sweet potato and carrot soup with carrot top pesto from Rhubarb in Asheville, NC
Char-grilled oysters, topped with parsley butter and a golden crust of parmesan, and of course the Siam salad from Leon’s Oysters in Charleston, SC.
crunchy dark chocolate hazelnut cigar from Chocolat in Charleston, SC
bright pickled veggie assortment at Crane Ramen in Gainesville, FL
blueberry pie from Carolina Cider Company, off the Carolina Highway near Yemasee, SC.
I loved this essay by Clare Finney examining the way our grandparents eat and how it compares to what she hilariously calls “nonna porn.”
I normally don’t fine listicles that helpful, but this one from Epicurious actually was a great collection of useful cooking techniques for anyone looking to improve their cooking.
Thanks for reading!
You forgot this has avocado