Some things I like . . .

Yesterday I told you what I didn't like about food and food culture. Now I will tell you about some things that I like:

• Molecular Gastronomy: it may have its detractors, but I find the entire movement to be one of the most fascinating trends--not only in cooking, but in culture as well. This is not necessarily because of its merits, but rather--regardless of whether you like MG or not (White, Marco Pierre)--it is because we are now discussing taste, flavors, smell, umami, sight, etc, etc. Molecular gastronomy has enabled us to look at food from an entirely different perspective, and this will only help cooking in the long run. While detractors are plenty (witness the current allegations of 'poisoning' against elBulli), most are just afraid of change. It happens man, it happens.
  
• Food Nostalgia: nostalgia arrives, usually, in the form of "homecooking." For example, I may think that my mother's tomato-crab sauce is the best possible tomato-crab sauce out there. Is it? Honestly, probably not. Yet we hold these types of assertions as undeniable truths--not because of logical relevance--but rather because our taste memories have imbued us with a static reference point (or status quo) of taste judgment. Some, like Heston Blumenthal, have wielded this gastronomical curiosity to great heights (like the entire In Search of Perfection program), but it is ripe for exploration in all levels of cooking, taste, and culture.
  
• The Michelin Guide: there is nothing more subjective than "liking" something. Further, there is nothing more preposterous than telling the world that your liking of that thing is the definitive judgment. That's why the Michelin Guide is so vital--not because it's accurate (which it probably is), but simple because it exists. It's a reference point, a place at which to start. Will everyone agree on who should get a star(s)? Doubtful. But the Guide at least comes with enough "gravitas" to allow the amateur to establish a foundation. Once we know who's at the top, it becomes a whole hell of a lot easier to know what path to take. The Michelin Guide shows us where to go--for better or for worse--and thus it is an invaluable resource. Even if Alain Ducasse doesn't step in his restaurants but once a decade.
  
• Accessibility: you want to buy foie gras, eh? Probably have you no idea where to go (or if it's been banned by the local government). Want a Douglas Fir puree? Same deal--where the hell do you get a Douglas Fir? And further, how in the world does one puree it? But once you get past instances like those, cooking and food culture is incredibly accessible. By its very nature, everyone at some point must cook or at least experience a meal. It is the only "art" that the entire world must partake in regardless of choice. If you don't partake, you die. With that being said, as a novice chef, there are books out there to guide you if you want to create a meal. You can go to schools, if you so please. Hell, even Wikipedia has some value. To borrow a well-worn, over-used, and overrated cliche: if the world truly is the young chef's oyster, then it's just a matter of shucking the damn thing. (I made that last bit up. sort of.)
  
• Art: yes, I referenced this in accessibility, but it is important enough to warrant further attention. Some people are adverse to cooking being called an art (regardless of whatever that high school cooking class was called). Some don't think that Eric Ripert paints his plate with seafood, or that Ferran Adria is every bit as mad in his logic (ham fat over cherries?) as Beethoven was in his composition. They simply refuse to see it. But riddle me this--what really separates cooking from "art?" Is it the use of naturally derived resources by which we change and transform into something likable? The last time I checked, marble came out of the earth, and unless I'm severely misinformed, so does asparagus. Could it be the use of mathematics that underlines the structure of most pieces? Because we need cups and ounces just as much as musicians need rhythm and painters need geometry. Where is the dividing line, exactly? The answer is simple--there isn't one.

I have more, but those are probably among the most prevalent. I usually like to leave Top 10 lists to Letterman, but there may be some in the future. Just sayin'.