I’m aware of the smattering of avant-garde chefs practicing their craft in America, though I’ve only dined at WD-50. The other restaurants like Minibar in D.C., and Alinea and Moto, both in Chicago, just aren’t in cities I ever visit. I enjoyed playful tweaks at WD-50 like deep frying cubes of mayonnaise, but it’s certainly not over the top like this bit I just read in Rolling Stone (lord, I can’t stand Rolling Stone and just seeing it in my building’s lobby makes me think even less of the twentysomething subscriber upstairs with a baby and SUV. But I get it at work) about Homaro Cantu, the chef at Moto.
“We did this one dish we called ‘The World on Time’ – that’s the FedEx tag line,” Cantu recalls. “We dressed a guy up in a FedEx uniform. He’d go up to a table and be like, “’Excuse me, Ms. So and So, could you please sign for this package?’ She opens up the box, and it’s packaging material, but actually flavored like popcorn. Popcorn packaging!"
Is that gay? Like I would love to date someone who’d come up with scenarios like that (forget role playing games in the bedroom—I’d much prefer these antics in the dining room), but it’s fantastical and funny that I don’t imagine it springing from the mind of a straight guy. Yes, I love stereotyping…and food that doesn’t look like food.