Appetites.us
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About Appetites.us
Former one word, exceptionally brandable domain representing Appetites - a record of where I've eaten and what's going on in the New Orleans restaurant scene generally. Musings about food and eating. Restaurant reviews, recipes and the like.
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Alan Richman is a Penis, I am Immature, and This is Long
Note: As I indicated some days ago when I mentioned that I’d be writing about this article, I’m going to be using some strong language here. Be forewarned that if you don’t like that kind of stuff, you should skip to another entry. I’ll try and keep it to a minimum, but…
I knew I was in for a difficult read after the first sentence of Alan Richman’s bizarre bitch-fest about New Orleans. “I’ve never had much luck eating in New Orleans” is just the start to a piece that attacks New Orleans from just about every conceivable angle, but which ostensibly asks the question, “can food save New Orleans?” Richman’s answer is a resounding “no.”
I want to ensure that my own bias in this subject is clear: I am what is known in the sports world as a “homer” for the food culture of New Orleans – a person so dedicated to his home team as to defy logic on occasion. I have written before that while we may not have the best restaurants in the United States, we do have the highest proportion of good places to eat, because here more than anywhere we love to eat. There’s very little tolerance for bad food around here, and consequently even the most inexpensive sandwich joint tends to serve decent food.
A couple weeks ago I had a drink with a friend after work. I got to the bar first, and sat next to two couples who were obviously from New Orleans. And when I say obviously Dawlin, I mean obviously from NewAwlins. Want to guess what they were talking about? If you said "food" you got it. Where they were going to eat, what they’d been cooking, what they missed about their Mama’s cooking… You get the idea. This is so common in New Orleans that it doesn’t really merit discussion among locals. “So you heard people in a public place talking about food huh? Gee, were they breathing too?”
I have always pointed to that kind of thing with pride, as an indication that New Orleanians have the proper perspective about life in at least that sense – food is important. Richman, on the other hand, feels quite the opposite. Here’s an illustrative quote:
New Orleans has always been about food and music, with parades added to the mix. (In the North, where I come from, we like to think we’re about jobs and education, with sports thrown in.) Vulnerability goes along with loving the dinner table too much – think again of our old friends the French. It might sound harmless for a civilization to focus on food, but it’s enormously indulgent. Name a society that cherishes tasting menus and I’ll show you a people too portly to mount up and repel invaders.
Mr. Richman is entitled to his opinion in that regard, of course. Lots of people think of food more as fuel for the body than something to savor, to enjoy. And it’s also true that one thread in the tapestry of culture that makes up the US is the Puritan spirit of some of the earliest settlers in Mr. Richman’s “North.” It’s certainly an odd position for a freaking food writer to take, but hey. He’s an award winning food writer, and he’s published in a widely circulated magazine. Again, he’s entitled to his opinions about New Orleans and our food. What really puzzles me about his recent article is how lazy it is. My first thought was when reading it was to wonder whether he has anyone doing research or fact-checking for him. The answer is either “no” or “yes, but the people doing the fact-checking wouldn’t know a fact if it sodomized them.”
Here’s another choice quote that manages to illustrate both the nasty tone and the factual errors rampant in the piece:
I know we are supposed to salvage what’s left of the city, but what exactly is it we’re trying to cherish and preserve? I hope it’s not the French Quarter, which has evolved into a [sic] illogical mix of characterless housing, elegant antique stores, and scuzzy bars, a destination for tourists seeking the worst possible experience. The entertainment values are only marginally superior to this of Tijuana, Mexico.
How do you respond to someone who suggests your home is not worthy of being rebuilt? To the extent you agree with him about that, I don’t expect to change your mind, but if you agree with the factual assertion that the French Quarter is full of “characterless housing” then you’re simply wrong. It appears that Mr. Richman’s experience with the French Quarter was limited to a few blocks of Bourbon Street, which to be completely honest is pretty much what he described. While I might disagree about some of the music being played on Bourbon Street; for example, there are some venues that play traditional jazz, Bourbon Street is designed for tourists. Drunk tourists. Drunk tourists who generally want to buy a T-shirt that says something like "I got drunk on Bourbon Street."
But the French Quarter is more than Bourbon Street, and in a City that does tend to live in the past, it has predictably been preserved very well. If you walk through the French Quarter, you will see buildings that have been standing for hundreds of years. Many of those buildings now belong to folks who live out of town, but there is, in fact, a vibrant residential community in the Quarter. He may not like the architecture, or the people, or the culture, but to suggest it’s “characterless” is just stupid and lazy.
But it gets worse. After making the ridiculous observation that “New Orleans is one of the best-promoted destinations, and it has few restaurants that aren’t famous (italics mine)” he continues with the following:
Supposedly Creoles can be found in and around New Orleans. I have never met one and suspect they are a fairie folk, like leprechauns, rather than an indigenous race. The myth is that once, long ago, Creoles existed. Certainly there was a Creole cuisine, a fancified amalgamation of French (mainly), Spanish (just a little), Italian (even less), and African-Carribean (unavoidable). The African-Carribean was the kind of fortuitous culinary accident that occurs when the swells eating the food don’t come from the same background as the workers cooking the food. The idea that you might today eat an authentic Creole dish is a fantasy. Turtle soup, crawfish bisque, and fried speckled trout are unlikely to be made precisely as they once were, and the one dish that is faithfully replicated – gumbo – might be Cajun and it might be Creole, depending on whom you favor. I side with the Cajuns, who unlike the Creoles, appear to be real.
This is among the most utterly stupid pieces of food writing I have ever had the displeasure to read. I am embarrassed to put it on my website, but I feel like it’s necessary if I’m going to adequately demonstrate that this piece of facile bullshit is not just offensive in tone, but a display of ignorance that ought never have been published.
So for those of you who aren’t familiar with New Orleans, and our food, I will tell you that he’s correct on one point: this is not a Cajun city. Cajun country is southwest Louisiana, and if you have ever heard a real Cajun speak, you wouldn’t mistake them for a resident of New Orleans. Cajun food is not dis-similar to Creole food in many respects, but it is a distinct cuisine that is largely absent from New Orleans restaurants.
The idea, however, that there are no Creoles, and never were, is wrong. Creole is not a term limited to New Orleans. Indeed, the term was initially intended to describe mixed-race folks resulting from intermarriage and interbreeding by African slaves, native American/Carribean Islanders, and European settlers. In many of those early Colonial Carribean (and also Central and South American) societies, intricate caste systems were developed to distinguish between folks who had varying proportions of “white” blood running through their veins.
As time passed, and as the populations of these “mixed race” folks increased, they began to dominate both politically and culturally. This is a sweeping generalization about populations who’ve been studied and written about for a hundred years or more. I'm not trying to sum all of that research and writing up in this piece, but I am saying that it exists, and is available for anyone who wants to find it. All of which makes Richman’s assertion that Creoles are “fairie folk” no more meaningful than if he’d found a way to fart in writing.