Do you like American cooking? I like American cooking. I like all kind of cooking.*

I've had a lot of bits and pieces of posts rattling around in my head for the last week, so this one will be a bit random I guess. Bear with me.

I did crack open On Food and Cooking (McGee) and was happy to learn from a quick scan that mold is indeed essential in basically all cheese- and bread-making, though the role it plays from cheese to cheese and bread to bread seems pretty varied. I have a lot more to learn on this topic, but I was gratified to know that I kind of knew what the hell I was talking about. Let it be known that Chefty is not an authority on anything. :)

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the food culture in America, more specifically about how as a nation we simply don't have a true food history or foundation in the way that a country like France or Italy does. (OK now, I know it's fall and all of you are going to start talking about turkeys and cornbread and cranberries and the like-- and yes, I agree, Thanksgiving is probably the only culinary tradition we can claim, even if we did steal the corn from the real Americans.)

I go to a store like Williams-Sonoma and look at the towers of Le Creuset cookware and bottled olive oils and pestos and think how eager Americans are to appropriate the trappings and labels of other traditions. Of course, there is in all culinary pursuits a reliance on the cooks and methods that came before us and, in an increasingly monocultural world, certainly the notion of a purely original cuisine is one that seems an impossible (and, maybe, pointless) goal. Cooks all over the world, even those with a hard and historical culinary legacy on which to stand, look to other cuisines and flavors to breath creativity into their dishes. I'm not condemning this practice, as I don't think there's any more fun or effective way to develop your palate without opening yourself to as many tastes as you can.

What I'm finding, at least in the media presentation of food here, is that food doesn't have this kind of integrity, that those who espouse other culinary traditions don't really pay it homage. Even in the most precious and sophisticated and savory presentations, cooking in America somehow feels too glossy and plastic. And the way we glorify this food often strikes me as desperate and vacant. How come? Is it simply that old familiar American insecurity?

Back when I was young, I had the habit of copying my older sister a lot, saying what she said, wanting to do everything she did. Naturally this would frustrate her and in response to a complaint, my mother would tell her that imitation is the highest form of flattery.

I wonder, does this hold true when it comes to food and cooking? Or is the highest form of flattery to seek knowledge and show, in your earnest pursuit, your own humility?

On that note, just so you know how far I have to fall from my soapbox here, it's time for me to complete my poached pear frangipane tart. Word to the wise: do not attempt to begin such a project from the very beginning (dough and all) at 9pm on a Tuesday night.

Will be back shortly with certainly less weighty questions to pose.

*This does not really do justice to the lyrics it echoes, but there you have it. Perhaps this illustrates my point about trying to do well something someone else already did better.