Saturday, September 1, 2012
Having written for my pallid audience a book whose grand theme was a fantastical (or farcical) gastronomy, one might assume me to be at least in spirit a believer in molecular gastronomy, and you would be both right and wrong.
I have more time than most for the white-coats and spectacled-set who would turn our daily bread into a weird and advanced Chemistry. As a modest believer in human enhancement, I think that food is just another bright blob on the frontier.
Twisting like a renaissance statue a banana into a frothy foam may not on the surface seem a worthwhile venture, but it is a fumbling toward something better.
An objection here from the populist camp states that the quest for food purity is elitist, and restaurants catering this output tend to be flippant and indifferent to diners. Perhaps, but is this an objection to the science per se, or an emotional-status reaction to something different, almost political?
My take is that the field is now in a larval statge and that it will be another pepper-cube in the singularity.