artsy ambitions

Roughly a month ago, Zócalo posed this question in Los Angeles: Do the arts make us better people? My own thoughts remained provoked by it as I flew farther away from the event itself. Mostly because I've always considered myself artistic; to the point that I was sure I'd pursue a career in design. Then I changed course. And yet, I don't think it's a coincidence that collecting art is at the top of my "oh, now I've made it" checklist, nor that I'm committed to finding a socially-conscious job with ample creative freedom.

On my last full day at home, Debra and I went out to lunch in Tarrytown. We soup and salad-ed at Sweet Grass Grill, picked up coffees to go from Coffee Lab Roasters, and wandered throughout the many galleries in town. It was my kind of perfect afternoon.

A couple sunny afternoons later, back in Paris, I met Sasha for lunch at the new Haï Kaï. I felt like we were dining in the cafeteria of a contemporary art museum. The space felt that cool, and cold. The food was anything-but-cheap and so absolutely beautiful.

As I'm finding in my research, a qualification for any nouvelle cuisine is the artistry with which the chefs create and present their dishes. I appreciate being able to very occasionally enjoy them. When it comes to visual feasts though, I still prefer galleries, street art, and museums; a much more financially-sound habit. Oh, I've decided to start sketching and collaging again, too... literally drawing inspiration from the works of famous photomontage artists on display nearby. We'll see if I become better. Bon week-end !

new american

I went out for French food once while I was home in New York--to Saint-Georges with my little brother. I saved enjoying Mexican cuisine for Christmas Eve and the country itself. Otherwise, I just sought out pizza, sushi, my mom's cooking, and New American. Those last two are difficult to come by in Paris. Understandably so, I suppose! Especially as 'New American' isn't exactly defined.

My thesis has evolved since I first announced my research in detail. For starters, I'm not going to be able to do a study of both New York and London. There simply isn't enough time. I've had to narrow my cuisine-focus as well. So, rather than limit myself to food of a particular ethnicity, I've decided to tackle the opposite. Who, what, where, why, and how is 'New American' cuisine? And what does it reveal about the changing face of America? I'm hoping my findings will be applicable elsewhere; like, say, neo-bistros.

In addition to savoring time with friends and family, I also visited multiple New American restaurants, whether they'd been notably identified by print/online publications or defined themselves as such. The fact that I "visited" them (versus "dined at") is important. An expensive menu seem to be one of the most common characteristics of New American eateries. In essence, socio-economic or class exclusion may be more prevalent than anything race-related. Other shared traits: chef celebrity and local/organic sourcing.

Interesting stuff... for which I was beyond relieved to receive right-on-track validation from my professor this past week. I even walked away with a bi-monthly research to-do list! Also, lucky for my Parisian social life, there's more to me than nerdiness. Top new haunts include Maison F and Lockwood. Enjoying them with friends as great as mine is recommended. Happy weekend :).

the birthplace of tequila

I find it disappointing how often cosmopolitanism doesn't represent that which is 'cultured', or 'worldly', or better yet, 'open minded'. Still we continue to use it so frequently, and with such vigor. Paris is cosmopolitan. New York is cosmopolitan. Guadalajara... ? The hierarchal distinction was on my mind a lot while visiting family in rural Mexico. As per usual, I blame my thesis research :).

Anyway. I've been back in the city of haute cuisine for a mere four days now, and I'm already craving street-side tacos; preferably the ones my parents and I stopped for on our way to "the city" (as my dad called it) over two weeks ago. Gosh those were good. Then again, I also recall being excited to be in Guadalajara as I enjoyed their deliciousness. Not because, as my mom argued, we've flown in and out dozens of times without having ever seen it, but rather because tenía ganas for a cosmopolitan dining experience.

Both of our bratty desires were appeased in our last 24 hours in Mexico. With the preloaded directions on my iPhone, I directed my dad to Perla Central, a cool boutique hotel my mom had booked last minute. Then, we walked to the historic center, took a bus tour, bought souvenir in Tlaquepaque, happy hour-ed with corn, queso, guacamole, and margaritas, and eventually, dined at Cocina 88.

Dinner was exquisite. Soon after arriving at the "turn-of-the-century mansion", a server came by our table and asked us to follow him. We chose a catch-of-the-day (for my mom and me) and a cut of beef (for my dad) from a butcher case. Next, we selected a wine straight from their wine cellar; our first Mexican wine. The live music began just as our appetizers arrived. The lime soup, in particular, was amazing. The singer and band were as well. After eating our meals, we sat there with coffee/tea just to keep listening.

"What a day", I reflected as we drove to the airport the following morning. We spent such a short amount of time well. The contrast of traditional and contemporary, wealth and... not, was incredible. It reminded me of How Tacos Explain Mexico's Labor Market.

In Mexico, it seems you are where you eat. Mexico City’s young professionals dine at a mix of modern, formal restaurants and old-school informal street stands. Investors are opening a new wave of world-class restaurants in many neighborhoods in Mexico’s capital city, targeting the growing budgets of the city’s upwardly mobile young professionals. But the formal economy isn’t robust enough to provide jobs for the entire workforce. Like meat in an over-stuffed taco, many people don’t fit into the formal sector and fall out to the sidelines.

I'm no expert of economics, but this trip and my research has me questioning so, so much. Tequila originated in the state of Jalisco for which Guadalajara is the capital. It's consumed all over the world. I happen to love it. But, tequila isn't comparable to wine. One is more respected than the other. And I suppose craft beer falls somewhere in the middle? Cosmopolitan food for thought maybe.

c'est normal

This time next week, I'll waking up in Paris. I can hardly believe it. These past two months have both dragged on and flown by. I've gotten used to "American" things that had startled me at first--the noise level, breadth of options, friendly customer service, and all-around enthusiasm. So soon I'm meant to settle back into my Franglish life while working on my nouvelle Americain thesis.

When we speak about culture, we usually refer to it as if it is inherent to both a people and a place. It's not. To put it simply: the cultures we know today have been created (imagined even) by repeated habits sprung from circumstances and resources; they've influenced norms we accept as Truth. Throughout my studies, while adapting to more than one set, I've questioned them as well.

I'm excited to critically dissect American identity from abroad. It might even be the most efficient way to do so--from the outside looking in, with an otherwise innate understanding. I hope to uncover something of value that lends itself to the complexities of how we define ourselves in a swiftly globalizing world. (Such a nerd). Only then will I graduate, move, and settle into stability.

Sometime this year, life will become significantly more normal. And yet, I know the very concept of "normality" is manufactured, too. My least favorite French phrase is: c'est normal. I've heard it said sarcastically, thereby eliciting a condescending judgement. But normal as defined by Ellen Goodman, for instance: "getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work and driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for - in order to get to the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it," isn't all that appealing. So I'll create my normal; one of adventure, comfort, frugality, and satisfaction. For the first time in a long time, whether by naivety or maturity, I believe it's not only possible, but necessary.

defined by food

A master's thesis is a fascinating beast. I've quickly learned just how much it demands commitment, passion, and tireless effort. As such, my preferred mental break--besides writing an email to friends in Paris or crossing paths with another in New York--is magazines, those same ones I thought I'd wanted to work for just a few years ago. They're mostly light, inspiring reads. There is one common thread that's been bothering me in particular though: weight loss stories that begin with a women raised on food as love.

Food as love is not "the problem." Food is how we nourish ourselves and each other, share traditional memories, create celebratory moments together. Nothing about the affectionate nature of a meal prepared and enjoyed among others is problematic. Then again, I'm referring to a degree of appreciation for the experience that is often associate with the French; a secret cultural formula to being thin on wine, bread, cheese, and cream. What we may not realize is that the "secret" is literally taught, in the home and classroom.

At the molecular level, yes, food is fuel. But the human touch adds love, and we've been cultivating it into cuisines around the world for centuries. While in the Jura, I recall Claire telling us about French researchers that led a group of overweight men and women through a weight loss program focused, not on extreme exercise nor culinary deprivation, but a conscious respect for food itself. They learned how to taste. And in doing so, they also lost a healthy amount of weight and were able to keep it off.

We're privileged to be able to choose what we eat, where, and how. From most disciplines, academics have proven that “what kind of food one eats and how – organic, healthy, local, processed, vegan, or ethnic – is a serious cultural and political issue with vital consequences for one’s cultural lifestyle and identity,” (Hirose and Pih 1483). That's why I'm so curious to look at how 'global cities' define local cuisine and who participates in the process. It's also why I loved Saturday night's dinner with my brother. Before he went back to Arizona, we dined on delectable French dishes (a shared petit plateau from the oyster bar, bowl of chestnut soup, and lamb shank with carrots and potatoes), wine, and espresso at a restaurant with his namesake. We had such a good time. I told him all about my thesis research; he shared his judgement of the restaurant... :) he's become especially opinionated since working at Fortina's. He spoke about his spring semester schedule and hopes for the future, too. What if food is, and should always be, love?