"Don't tell your cardiologist," "heart attack on a plate," you can feel your arteries tightening," ad anginum...
There is a ubiquitous, annoying tic in food writing. Perhaps it's a stale holdover from earlier, anti-fat times, but it seems that every mention of butter, cream, fatty meat or such sins must be referred to apologetically, with mild astonishment that these substances are actually being consumed. The implication is clear: we certainly know better in our enlightened times, and we must offer a mea culpa to excuse our momentary lapse of judgment by actually eating bone marrow butter. To make things equitable, why isn't any mention of alcohol soft-pedalled with "Make sure your sponsor isn't looking!" or "Beg for your liver's forgiveness!"?
I am disgusted by the Puritanical reaction to pleasure in the United States, and it must be eradicated in all forms. Let us please start by not treating food as medicine, and by not reflexively giggling about eating what received wisdom tells us is Bad.
Excess is Bad. Monotony is Bad. Enjoying the occasional smear of foie gras, or a frothy cup of egg nog, or a glistening chunk of roast pork is Good! Yeah, if you eat like a feral sow all the time, your life will be nasty, brutish, and short, but please have some perspective about luxurious food. It is special, and there is no quicker way to run something's specialness than overexposure. Treats are not an everyday thing, and should be savored.
May we all eat well in 2010!
