- August 1st, 2011
A delicious failure. This could be the title of my autobiography rather than the title of my dinner. There’s just something so tragicomic about it, no? If my life was full of exquisite meals yet devoid of the true tenets of success, I suppose I would be ok- who needs a white picket fence and neighbor’s named the Joneses anyway?
However I won’t be satisfied in my career if I only make food that tastes good. It has to be well-executed renditions of my original vision, too. I’d rather eat a terrible meal that is interesting than a delicious one that is boring. I know that pot roast and corn-on-the-cob have an undeniably-visceral appeal, but I’m confident I can make them passably 10 times out of 10. Instead, I would prefer to invent rather than to simply reproduce. Which is why I tackle some of the meals I tackle.
They start as inklings and get jotted into the notes section of the iPhone. A recent note read “foie gras. Peanut butter. Consider grape jelly from champagne grapes. Cupcake gone mad!!!. PBJ hot dog with foie gras.” The results of this stream-of-consciousness have yet to hit the plate because the idea isn’t fully congealed. Kind of like the demi-glace that ruined the dish I’m about to describe. Read more