Yesterday the S. Pellegrino World's 50 Best Restaurants list was announced – which,
despite its title, is actually a compendium of the world’s ‘best’ 100
restaurants.
The 1 – 50 list is of
course the most coveted by ‘restaurant spotters’, however as I would understand
it, the extended praises provide an opportunity for other high achieving food
establishments to receive a recognition that many (but by no means everybody)
in the land of gastronomy deem to be of the highest order.
There are many food
professionals that probably disagree with the means, process and result of this
annual ceremony, though I am not privy to this and nor am I qualified to
critique this ‘industry-speak’. What I was compelled to write about was my
opinion of the ongoing reaction of the Australian punter to news features about
fine dining.
Australians
(at least here at home) are renowned for what is called ‘tall poppy syndrome’,
which, according to Wiki Almighty is “a pejorative term used in
the UK, Ireland, Australia, and New Zealand to
describe a social phenomenon in which people of
genuine merit are resented, attacked, cut down, or criticised because their
talents or achievements elevate them above or distinguish them from their
peers”.
Sometimes
when a review of a fine dining restaurant appears in our newspapers, or more
often - as in this case - a food writer’s ‘best of’ list surfaces, the ever-egalitarian comments section of the
online version of the publication is an explosive if not humorous mess of no
less than Eton-esque proportions.
In
fact, I wonder if food journalists, editors and critics ever take the time to
see what the average Joe or Joanne has to say about their particular line of work
or whether they gave up caring long ago. From observation, the audience is
split between those that are interested and those that are morally outraged
that fine dining even exists, let alone that people might want to acknowledge
its existence. This indignation stems from the belief that fine dining is a
past time for rich wankers or that the accompanying price tag is shameful to the
human condition – or various combinations of both.
Of
course eating a meal at a fine dining restaurant every day, every week or even
every other month is not possible for most of us (myself included), but I don’t
think that any food professionals – chefs, food writers, restaurateurs, whomever
– are pretending otherwise. Also I am using the term ‘fine dining’ here quite
loosely to refer to restaurants as revered as Noma, the reigning world champion
by the San Pellegrino standard, but also to the (comparatively) more accessible
and casual ones like Ms Gs or Duke Bistro here in Sydney
The argument:
I find
these people very strange as they seem to say ‘Hey, I watch Nigella. I watch Jamie. I watch Escape to River Cottage
and the subsequent infinite spin-offs when it’s a public holiday and it repeats
on Lifestyle Food. I know about real food, and fine dining ain’t it.’ *
“Hey right
backatcha” I say. “Homegrown, quality, rustic style food has its place under
the umbrella of fine dining absolutely for sure. But can’t you also appreciate
that some chefs want to push their talents further – move nourishment into a
form of art? No? Really? Ok then.”
My comeback only works if the fine food really tastes good.
“Won’t
somebody think of the children?!”
So maybe
this particular comment doesn’t illustrate this approach that well, but what I
mean by this is the people who bemoan that the cost of eating in high end
places could be money so much better
spent elsewhere.
This really
came into it’s own over a recent SMH Lifestyle section article that asked
celebrities (from my memory food and non-food related) how they would $1000 on
a meal. Oh, how our protagonists agonised and protested against this! ‘How can
anyone justify spending this much money on a meal when people are starving, the
world is going to bits, the roof is leaking etc’. The celebrities and the
journalists carried on being called shameful and selfish until one sharp reader
pointed out that the entire premise was hypothetical.
The cost
involved in fine dining will always be a barrier either financially or morally
for some people, and unfortunately – and I want to emphasise that as a sincere ‘unfortunately’
- this is a by-product of the society we live in. But two things: why is the
leisure activity of fine dining derided because it costs money? Flying to a
holiday destination costs money, and there are very few people that would give
that up in favour of a more financially or eco/socio friendly option.
Secondly,
for the most part you can bet most acclaimed chefs pride themselves on using
the best and most ethically farmed ingredients - and apparently the coming trend
is to adapt commercial kitchens to be more sustainable, though I can’t
elaborate further on that topic. Good produce costs money. Try to imagine that
every restaurant in your local area starting to introduce ethical ingredients
into their menus. And now try to imagine the price rise. Of course, the high
end price tag is GST inclusive – you’re paying for the wait staff, the
tableware, and so on.
My argument
is invalid if you are a vegan anti-capitalist, in which case I admire you, we
have no beef (sorry).
The
voice of reason:
Then
suddenly, these guys:
You know
these guys, and you know there is no reasoning with these guys. “Oi! You
guys! Why the hell are you reading the food pages anyway?!”
So these commentators
don’t really bother me THAT much, in fact I was part of this comment stream not
at all adding anything of value. Rather, as someone who believes in food as an artform and who is
interested the role of food within our societies and histories, these comments
are pretty good entertainment value.
*I totally
always watch Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall when I go home to visit my family
