Let them eat artisanal cake
Much as I love the whole eat-local movement and respect Alice Waters, the opinion piece from the Los Angeles Times that MrRational linked to in a comment had me rolling on the floor. In case you're one of those readers who skips the comments, here's the part of it that pertained to food. It's by Charlotte Allen. EL
Some people might worry about the effect on recession-hit families of a 17% increase in the price of milk, but not Alice Waters, the food-activist owner of Berkeley's Chez Panisse restaurant, who shudders at the thought of sampling so much as a strawberry that hasn't been nourished by organic compost and picked that morning at a nearby farm -- and thinks everyone else in America should shudder too. "Make a sacrifice on the cellphone or the third pair of Nike shoes," Waters airily informed the New York Times in April. ...
Pollan also hoped that rising prices might constitute another weapon in his ongoing war against his agribusiness villain of choice: corn. Corn is a plant, of course, and thus should theoretically rank high on Pollan's list of permissible edibles. But it is also the basis of such dubious items as snack chips, Coca-Cola (high-fructose corn syrup, godfather of obesity) and suspiciously plentiful beef (corn-fed).
Pollan is a "locavore," one of those people who believe that in order to be truly ethical, you should eat only foods grown or killed within your line of sight (for me, that would be my neighbor's cat). He once described a meal he made consisting of a wild boar shot by him in the hills near his Bay Area home and laboriously turned into pate, plus bread leavened by yeast spores foraged from his backyard.
Lately, Pollan has set his sights on Häagen-Dazs ice cream, not because it contains corn syrup (it doesn't) but because it's a commercially made product, and if there's one thing Pollan hates, it's commerce. His latest pronunciamento: "Don't buy any food you've ever seen advertised."
Demanding that other people impoverish themselves, especially these days, in the name of your pet cause -- fostering craftsmanship, feeling "connected" to the land, "living more lightly on the planet" or whatever -- goes way beyond Marie Antoinette saying "let them eat cake." It's more like Marie Antoinette dressing up in her shepherdess costume and holding court in a fake rustic cottage at the Petit Trianon.
Thanks to all of you who helped me out on the live chat. There were enough questions/comments posted before it started that Carla could handle the flow better (she has to read them all for, let's say appropriateness, before she posts them). 
Frank Bruni wrote 
One thing I like a lot about my job is getting entertaining e-mails like this one from Jack Cole (not someone I've ever met or even heard from before). The subject line is "Back in the USA," and it reads like we're in the middle of a conversation. I'm pretty sure we don't have any hot pot restaurants in Baltimore; the nearest is probably in DC. If I'm wrong, please let us know. Here's Jack. EL
When I'm at a Chinese-American restaurant, I crave a whiskey sour. When I'm eating Tex-Mex food, a margarita is what I want. Of such stuff Top 10 lists are made. 
I like to pretend that I have a normal relationship with food, and then something happens that makes me wonder. A friend and I were going to the movies last night at the Charles, and we talked in the afternoon about where we should go to get a bite to eat first.
I had to get out of town for next Sunday's review. 
The only thing missing from this excellent guest post by Robert of Cross Keys is the recipe for the dish he's taking to his pool party. Here's Robert. EL
I got to the Waverly farmers market early today, but not as early as Zagat local editor Marty Katz, who had been up all night.
Just to lighten up what has been the usual drudge-day-after-vacation day, 
Yesterday I was on the plane back from the West Coast for what seemed like all day, and I never signed on to the computer when I got home at last. 
And then at the dinner afterward it would have been rude not to let the server pour me a glass of sauvignon blanc to go with the amuse bouche and the fabulous first course of ceviche (shrimp, scallops and local sea bass) with jalapeno, cilantro, tomato and avocado spilling over crisp tostados and baby greens. But I just had a sip.
I would like to take that back, what I said about San Francisco being cold. It wasn't cold. Carmel-by-the-Sea is cold: Damp, gray and drizzly. It's like a teeny little Disneyland for adults, so gentrified there are no fast food places, no Rite-Aid, not even a Starbucks. But every block is crowded with "inns," restaurants, expensive shops, galleries and day spas.
