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Robert, here is a review by Patricia Wells in the International Herald Tribune of David Van Laer and his restaurants among which is Le Maxence (Steve P. please note).

Not only that but the dynamics of business have changed all over the world and sponsors who are interested in a faster profit return rather than in building a long-term stable business, refuse to invest in a restaurant that isn’t going to profit quickly. If 10 years ago a standard time-frame for the investor to feel comfortable backing a restaurant until the fruits of labor are appreciated was 5 years, now if the restaurant is not successful and operating at a full capacity in a year or two, backers simply withdraw and are no longer interested. It is all of the above. Falling turnover, higher wages, more expensive raw materials constitute a profit margin fall. Economic rules are cruel in their predictability. It tops with a relatively narrow “fan club” of people interested in haute cuisine. According to Van Laer the owner of Maxence “haute gastronomy is like haute couture – it doesn’t pay.” On top of everything, a highly socialized economic structure in France doesn’t seem to encourage young people to invest their effort in the business of cooking. Shortage of talent is inevitable and is currently an acute problem, as the graduates of cooking schools prefer to work in institutional kitchens (hospitals etc.). It seems that comfortable existence takes over one’s ambition for perfection and creativity if not encouraged financially. According to some sources, an estimated 70,000 to 80,000 restaurant jobs in the country are currently unfilled.

Fleisher’s statement that “the standard of mediocrity is constantly rising" was related to the fact that the competency of pianists was raised to the point that it became harder to recognize the exceptional talents, which rather raises the bar in singling out the best. However, I am inclined to agree that technical proficiency and rather stability in carrying the musical work from the beginning to the end seems to dominate today’s evaluation criteria. Unfortunately Debussy’s advice “to preserve the mystery” when “touching” the music, plunging into the meaning behind the notes or bringing passages to life is no longer an important element for many contemporary pianists and is no longer valued as much as the ability to blandly race the metronome. Quite disappointing. Is this really what's happening with today's approach to evaluating chefs?

Bux, that's about as clear as it can get. Unemotively, it simply states what is actually the case. With regard to the rising generation of virtuoso pianists, a highly respected musician of an older generation put it less neutrally: "The standard of mediocrity is rising all the time."Bux, John – Are you suggesting that globalization promotes mediocrity, as in facilitating lowering standards? In fact, it should stimulate raising them. The only difference imposed by this trend is that instead of competing with a neighbor next door as in the past, now one has to compete with a neighbor in another country. The principles of success and competition are unchanged. If one can get “haricots vert with an abundance of flavor" [steve P.] from Kenya for half price now instead of a local producer, in order to protect his business and attract customers, the local producer has to provide a better product, and “that's about as clear as it can get."[John W] In an age of globetrotting gastronomic tourists, the same should apply to restaurants.

John – You seem to promulgate isolation as an essential measure to preserve culinary triumph. One of the common debates in an attempt to justify decline in French gastronomy is whether losing traditionalism consequently leads to losing integrity. Therefore, even though globalization successfully disseminates French culinary techniques throughout the world, for France globalization is viewed as nothing more but a threat to a French identity. The question is however whether one of the reasons the relative decline is so noticeable lies not in the fact that the French chefs turned their backs on a traditional approach, but that the international chefs surpassed their French teachers in applying their learned skills with more spontaneity and creativity, and that this fact alone may result in the end of the era of French culinary supremacy the same way as French language, literature and fashion lost much of their influence. Ducasse, for instance, as one of those who propagated isolation as the only way to sustain originality of French cuisine 10 years ago seems to take a contrary position now by stating that globalization is invaluable in that it boost quality and provides enormous possibilities for exchange and assimilation.

Your main fallacy in viewing this and consequent questions lies in the fact that you are attempting to compare two genres of cuisines unrelated in their approach, technique and methodology. It is similar to comparing jazz with opera. I’d say according to your statement, jazz is “intellectualized” or rather “overly technical” and aside from semantics, of course, cannot exist….or vice versa for that matter. The point is that it is not about comparing best potatoes. It is about comparing a potato foam with potato which is simply irrelevant in evaluation as they represent two completely different substances. However, the question as to whether Adria’s cuisine will properly integrate in the future is valid and was answered extensively in my previous post that highlighted two aspects: 1) consumer open-mindness without previous sensory attachments; and 2) possible favorable economic, market or other incentives that would provide enough grounds for chefs to continue the trend (just like the original introduction of the potato 300 years ago). My reference to the use or rather misuse of the word “intellectual” aside from the reasons presented in the original post was also based on the observation that many wouldn’t submit to their sensory assessment and conveniently diverge to the subject of complexity of the preparation process. However, when I receive an input on someone’s dining experience in the form of “it was interesting” or “it was intellectual”, I am forced to pose a question, “So, was it good or bad?”

What interests me is a reference to the word “intellectual.“ It seems that any time the less known, less habitual is to be experienced, any time we need to switch to the active mode instead of passively receiving an anticipated pleasure, we casually refer to the word intellectual. Adria’s cuisine – too intellectual. Schoenberg – too intellectual. I remember watching a 2-year-old child’s first experience with a potato chip. She sniffed the potato chip first, then she licked it, then she made a face the expression of which clearly stated definite suspicion, and of course the first bite resulted in a well-chewed and spit-out substance. I’d say that according to the current use of the word, the chip just seemed to be too “intellectual” for the little one. The point is that we don’t really know how “intellectual” a mushy, starchy, bland potato tasted right after being introduced “in the post-1492 era.” Perhaps the fact that potato is not very demanding climate-wise and easy to grow promoted the product to the market. Therefore, the taste was acquired as a result of its mass introduction. I have no doubts that had children been exposed to Schoenberg since their early years, it wouldn’t just “smell like classical music” for some of us. The fact that our senses receive new experiences in food doesn’t necessarily present an “intellectual challenge” as much as require open-mindness with no previous sensory attachments (e.g., that foam can't be a potato) and simple, plain practice. On the other hand, the fact that our senses are unfamiliar with a new dish doesn't automatically confirm its intellectual substance. Some new things are just bad, and we shouldn't be afraid to say so. You may dissect the food and apply your intellectual abilities to admire the complexity of the process and the thought involved in the creation of the dish, but this recognition has little effect on how our senses accept the outcome.

Reviewing a new work undoubtedly presents a critic with a challenge and is much more demanding then reviewing a familiar piece though the stakes are considerably higher. There are two major issues in evaluating the potential effect of a contemporary performance on future development, be it in music or food: technical and philosophical. It is relatively easy to separate the performance from the actual piece in music if one is acquainted with a work, for instance. It is, however, impossible to do so without being familiar with a score and an initial thought process of a new work. Therefore discussing any impact on future trends should be viewed from both perspectives: “the score” and the performance. The new “language of potato essence” is a “score” composed by Adria. To be able to see the future of this work, it is essential for a critic to “read a score” first and to “listen” to the work at least once with a score. The philosophical issue concerns the interpretation of the “language” or vocabulary of the creator. Unlike the earlier Baroque or Classical periods where a certain technique prevailed, today composers are inspired to use a complex combination of tonal and non-tonal. It is quite interesting to follow the history of composers being reevaluated after their death. Shostakovich, for example was identified as a reactionary composer during his lifetime and the fact that Bach and Mozart's music was basically conservative, while Berlioz and Beethoven's was radical, is of little importance now. What is important, however, is the quality of their work. The challenging part in identifiying this aspect lies in one’s ability to “hear” no matter what vocabulary the “composer” chooses to use. Edit: Three typos corrected.

Since my relatively good health never underwent the challenges of Tourettes Syndrome, I may not fully appreciate the agony some participants are going through on this thread; therefore I deeply apologize for the interruption. As Nina noted, the noise level was certainly less intrusive in the bar area then in the main hall, and I was relieved to know that I finally didn’t have to pretend to understand the course of the neighboring conversation by politely nodding my head without any definite indication of whether I should’ve shaken it instead. There were several discoveries for me at that lunch. One of them was Garrotxa, a Spanish goat cheese. It had a grayish, sort of velvety mold on the rind and an ivory white interior with a creamy but fairly compact texture. I was surprised by a somewhat unusual but quite pleasant mild flavor with a little nutty (walnuts?) nuance and a sour and at the same time bitter aftertaste, which almost gave it a smoky aroma. It went perfectly with the fruits we ordered. Artisanal description: Mild, Crumbly, Buttery I also enjoyed Piave, an Italian aged cheese made from cow’s milk. It reminded some of a mild version of Parmesan. The interior was compact with little crunchy crystals inside. It had a strong fruity flavor, which became a subject of our different preferences. Some, for example, favored a more intense, aged flavor to a sweet one. Artisanal description: Hard, Fruity and Crystalline. The bartender praised Hoch Ybrig, which was excellent, and our French lady, “cheese specialist,” favored Monte Enebro which was certainly a treat. I dropped by Zabar‘s the same day to check on cheese availability, and I was certainly disappointed that even the name Monte Enebro didn’t sound familiar to the “cheese master” behind the counter. What are the stores that carry Monte Enebro besides Artisinal’s take-out counter? Well, as Francois Rabelais said and our maitresse de fromage confirmed there could be nothing better then a “Holy Trinity:” cheese, wine and bread. Nesita - I didn’t think that our cheeses were underripe. They certainly were not runny either, but rather oozed thickly. Interestingly, our maitresse de fromage didn’t hesitate to point our attention to how perfectly ripe our selection was.

Not always. Traditionally, for many countries that don’t follow free market economic practices, bribery is a matter of expressing one’s gratitude in a form of gifts or money post facto. It is totally voluntary but is considered to be an illegal act by the authorities. The main difference between bribery and tipping is the legitimacy factor. Tipping in reality is an evaluation technique the only purpose of which is to provide an incentive for better service and is not much different from other incentives widely utilized by many companies in the form of bonuses, for instance. Steve, despite the perfect rationale of your argument, unless you refuse to accept rules as a measure of our wrongdoing, bribery is corrupt simply because it is not encouraged by our law. But even without arguing about the morality of the act itself, bribes tend to distort the free market system as those who participate in bribery take away an opportunity from someone willing or required to play by the rules. AHR, who is unencumbered by a complete reading of the thread, asks me to add that buying tickets from a scalper, or especially hiring some one to wait in line for you -- or tipping a waiter for good service -- is in no way bribery in the same sense as giving money to a purchasing manager to buy your overpriced, inferior product over a competitor’s. The nature of the transaction, and the nature and magnitude of the harm, is manifestly different. Also, is ticket scalping (save for an allowed $5? 5%? profit) even illegal anywhere in the U.S. besides the People’s Republic of New York City?

An additional note on the service. The service was pretty solicitous; they asked when we sat down, and again later, whether we wanted to open all the BYO wine at once (many glasses per person) or sequentially (one glass). We changed our minds midstream. However, there was some minor confusion regarding the initial tasting and pouring, possibly due to the restaurant's noise level. The restaurant's staff seemed to demonstrate quite some humor on occasion as well. Upon my looking for the hm, hm… facilities, I inquired of one of the service people as to their location. The response was puzzling and contained an absolutely serious assurance that the restaurant did not posses such a luxury. The cruelty of the joke at that very moment was absolutely unforgivable.

I have to admit that this was the first time I have ever tried fondue and wasn’t quite fond of it. As a matter of fact, my indifference to the dish was sort of confusing and prompted a morning devoted to the research on the preparation techniques and other little possible attractive tasty molecular features my palate, quite inexperienced in fondue, could’ve missed. To my surprise, I hadn’t missed anything. There is nothing to the dish besides bubbling cheese in wine and a communal experience (John Whiting would be proud ) of sharing little plates with goodies to be passed around for dipping. The whole idea of sticking as many forks as possible into the same pot with the gooey stuff sponsors quite some unity, if you will. However, I may assure you that after the second dip and a second glass of one of the very nice wines described previously, you stop wondering about communal hygiene. One of the techniques you have to acquire to operate successfully with the dish is to learn how to make sure not to lose the dipped objects in the pot which I, as a novice, didn’t seem to perfect. If not for Jaybee who rescued the pieces I lost in the pot, I would’ve left hungry like Tommy. I am still not sure whether my fondue fondness wasn’t influenced by the fact that I was sitting next to Tommy). (By the way, whatever they say about you is a lie. You are absolutely wonderful.) He seemed to be quite distracted by the portions and the whole dish in general, and was totally devastated upon learning that Nina ordered a fondue desert for two after all that torture he had to endure. Of course that was before the melted chocolate arrived at our table. Nina is absolutely correct and the noise level was beyond the abilities of someone who didn’t acquire the skill to SHOUT to be able to communicate. Tommy, I still wonder: who the third one was whom you could hear?

Having been able to observe those who were brought up with the finest cuisine options and those who discovered little food miracles much later in their lives, my conclusion is that a good palate is a gift from nature that doesn’t really get ruined and opens up as soon as an opportunity presents itself. A first introduction to serious cuisine as an adult has an enormous advantage due to the fact that not only are the sensory feelings involved (as is with case with children), but also the conscious intellect. There are numerous examples in history of people who simply rejected haute cuisine upon entering adulthood despite their fine upbringing accompanied by fine dining experiences. One of them is our old favorite Wittgenstein. The fact that you were exposed to new experiences later in life may well be the reason for your reverence for food.

The distinction between the end results of the rare steak vs. well-done version is quite an objective measurement. Independently of one’s preference, a statement that a rare steak is juicier and tenderer than the well-done version of it is a fact. It simply describes the amount of juice produced and the texture of the meat based on different preparation methods. The analogy presented concentrated on the deviation from the “detailed performance information” indicated in musical scores, i.e. standards set by composers, to objectively identify bad performances. It was directed toward strengthening the point that had steak preparation standards been recognized (analogously to the standards set by composers), it would’ve been much easier to judge the quality of the prepared meal for the general consumer. As to the subjective part of tempo interpretation, your example of Stravinsky’s Rake’s Progress falls under the specific category of neoclassical standards where objectification in the form of a very explicit rhythm, similar to a Cubist collage of everyday objects, does not leave room for improvisation. Metronomes existed for centuries, yet were never utilized in works of Romantics, for instance. Works of Chopin, Mendelssohn, Liszt or Rachmaninoff are dependent on the performer’s personal perception, his emotions, his imagination etc. and are strongly based on the personal interpretation. This is where different Allegros come in place, and you can choose whichever one is closer to your own vision (a subjective measurement.)

Steve P: Not really, I’d just change the “objective standards” for hiring talent. For now, I’ll reserve the right to bring rotten tomatoes to the performance just in case. However, I do wonder how many restaurants that concentrate on décor rather than food would have stayed open had you been the czar of restaurants. Of course, it is. You think that rare meat has an objective quality that overcooked one doesn’t, but refuse to apply the same standards to music. It sounds best at a certain tempo because that degree of emotional, structural, logical etc. music character “maximizes the experience and flavor.” It is as objective as your attempt to describe meat quality cooked at a certain temperature. Not always. Many vocal songs written by Rachmaninov, for instance, are printed in different keys for soprano or mezzo-soprano. I can assure you, they sound wonderful either way. In reality, the difference between steak ordering and a black tuxedo with brown shoes is that when you enter a tuxedo store you are not suggested by the salesman to buy black with brown. The standard calls for black with black. It is your right and your choice to select any combination, but this option is not “on the suggested menu” of the store. With steak, however, you are offered three choices: rare, medium and well-done. If the last option were removed from the suggested menu of restaurants, the patrons would still be able to order to their preference, but it would be an exception rather than the norm. That is how you educate people: by letting them know what the standard is.

Of course, but "... the real issue here isn't how we can force someone to eat steak that is cooked 'correctly,' but how it is we can eductate people about it and hope they take to it. " (Steve P)

My observations are identical to Nina’s. Blinded by prestige or perhaps due to lack of cultural education, more often than not, the current audience is incapable of properly assessing opera performances. With rare exceptions, operas mostly turned into rather theatrical performances where vocal skills became secondary. Poor timbre, inadequate volume, lack of vocal taste and capacity, narrow tessitura are now acceptable standards at the Met and City Opera. No longer one can afford the luxury of closing his eyes to enjoy just the music. Generally good acting and staging are so much in contrast with poor vocal performance that one may legitimately wonder how great it would have been had arias been replaced with recitatives. However, despite poor performances, the audience generally gives standing ovations. Therefore, not only do the majority of people pay money for a bad opera, but for those few who can “hear”, it is simply impossible to “send it back to the kitchen”; at least those with overcooked steak still have a chance…

Objective simply means “uninfluenced by emotion, surmise or personal prejudice” or a “material object as distinguished from a mental concept, idea or belief” (Webster). It is a set of standards that prevail only at certain time, and it is a perfectly good term to use for evaluating food. How would one distinguish the quality of a musical performance for instance? One would know that a composer marked the tempo of a specific musical piece to be Allegro (fast). It is an objective standard identified by a composer/professional. Had the musician performed the selected musical piece in a different tempo, say Largo (slow), it would’ve been a good indication of its poor interpretation. Analogously, if an expert were to mark a steak to be cooked rare as an objective norm, then overdoing it would by default be considered to be a poor performance. After the musician followed an objective standard, however, more complicated and rather subjective elements are involved to form one’s opinion of the performance. It depends on this person’s natural talent, taste, experience, personal preferences etc. For example, one may like that the selected musical piece is played Allegro toward Presto (very quick) whereas the other would like it played Allegro toward Moderato (moderate). I’ll let you improvise an analogy with steak.

An eG dining companion and I enjoyed a $20.02 prix-fixe lunch at Toqueville yesterday. The décor stresses two colors: yellowish (but not overbearing) walls with blue-colored banquettes. The room is small and cozy. We were seated at a round table that would usually serve more than two, but apparently during the slow season is given away to a lesser number of diners. My overall impression of the cuisine and service was very favorable, tinged sadly by seeing only several tables taken during lunchtime. We had: House Cured Salmon - mimosa and caper vinaigrette. Several tender, buttery pieces of cured salmon of vibrantly orange-reddish color, topped with a creamy vinaigrette that was accented with coarsely chopped, tiny cubes of pickles. Asparagus and Green Garlic Vichyssoise. Since I shared the meal, the asparagus soup followed the cured salmon in my case, and its taste blended with the previous savory appetizer. My lunch companion may contribute a better assessment. However, it was properly chilled, of the right density, and topped with a refreshing mâche garnish. Thyme Roasted Wild Striped Bass - braised fennel, aromatic broth. The striped bass was very good. Nicely crusted, the meat was almost sweet; though not especially tender, it exuded moisture in combination with a thin vegetable broth with an acute aroma of fennel. The fennel was done just right and complemented the fish well. Guinea Hen Ravioli - arugula and tomato salad, poultry jus. The ravioli was al dente, and acceptable but not memorable, though the broth, based on the poultry jus, was interesting and nicely echoed the ravioli stuffing. Pineapple, Star Anis, White Chocolate Ganache, Black Pepper Nougatine. A pineapple sorbet was topped with white chocolate ganache and tiny pieces of fresh blueberries, pineapple, and strawberries. The combination of light (sorbet), heavy (ganache) and refreshing fruit was elegant and, for my taste, just perfect. We didn’t try sampling the nougatine with the other flavors of this dessert until the end, but the taste of sweetness with black pepper was somewhat interesting, I’d say. Selection of Today's Sorbets. All of the sorbets were excellent. The right combination of sharpness and sweetness couldn’t have been better comprised. The three scoops consisted of mango, lychee (which also had a little lemony overtone that prevented us from immediately recognizing it) and white peach (which we failed to identify at first and requested our captain’s assistance). Since our impression was that this last sorbet had rather a strawberry hint, we received an extra scoop of a strawberry sorbet for comparison. It was a personal touch that truly epitomized the wonderful impression of our lunch. In my estimation, the food quality was similar to that at a dinner at Tocqueville about a year ago, though the $20.02 menu is limited and the portions smaller. A tasting of wines paired with each course is available for a $15 supplement. Tocqueville

Though the penetration of French culture in different forms, including French cuisine, in most cases could be ascribed to French colonialism, Russia seemed to embrace French civilization voluntarily. Despite Russia‘s being under French culinary influence for a century, one may argue that the dominance of French cuisine in the royal court was originally driven rather by fashion and was a result at first of adopting French culture. Though Peter the Great was the first to make Russian men shave their beards and drink coffee in the morning instead of the traditional tea, his cultural preference lay with the Dutch baroque. With time, however, French and Italian influences prevailed. J.B. Leblond, the French architect, brought to Saint Petersburg his refined Renaissance taste (e.g. Peterhof, a Versailles-like palace with a garden in the French style that Leblond had learned from his teacher Le Notre). The real penetration of French culture into the Russian court, however, is attributed to the time of Catherine the Great, a Prussian who spoke Russian with a heavy accent. Nonetheless, her love for Russia and her ambition to bring her adopted nation to the world arena as an equal were enormous. Catherine seemed to have a conflict in resenting the French attitude toward Russians as barbarians, and on the other hand, embracing the French language and culture with Voltaire, Montesquieu and Rousseau. The Russian aristocracy soon incorporated French culture into their daily lives, giving the noblemen a common identity where French language set them apart from the Russian peasantry. Parisian fashions were the only truly acceptable styles, and French cuisine was the rage, whether at home, in the diplomatic congresses, or in any public restaurant. In fact, French food was quite essential to the social success of a diplomat, politician, or nobleman and could be as important as having the right connections with the Royal family. With the destruction of Napoleon, however, Russia obtained certain prestige on the international stage and the war with once-adored France reduced (but didn’t eliminate) the passion of the Russian nobility for the French. In the highest St. Petersburg salons, women were now trying to have fashionable conversations in Russian for the first time in decades. French influence, however, remained pretty strong up until the revolution in 1917. During the time of Alexander I, Carême, called the "architect of French cuisine," became head chef for Russia's Czar. Carême was also known for his contributions to the kitchens of the prince Talleyrand who said, "England has three sauces and 360 religions; France has three religions and 360 sauces," and for the Prince Regent of England. There are speculations that he introduced classic Russian dishes into French cuisine, including borscht and coulibiac. He also cooked at the Court of Vienna, Austria, the British Embassy in Paris, the Congress of Aix-la-Chapelle, and in the household of Princess Bagration. His last employer was the French banker Baron James de Rothschild, for whom he cooked for seven years. The French influence and nearly all cultural and certainly all French culinary contributions were forgotten in Russia after the slogan “Who was nothing will become everything” materialized and haute cuisine was replaced with cheap-eats in 1917. Chapters portraying high society in Tolstoy’s “War and Peace” and originally written in French sadly had to be translated into Russian. One of the encouraging signs of recovery now in Russia is the revival of the 'Week of French Cuisine.' This and similar events were held regularly in Moscow beginning in 1862 and last took place in 1912. The central dessert piece is now Napoleon cake shaped as the Emperor’s cocked hat. French culture seemed to nourish Russian life for decades, and what did Russia give to France? Borscht, coulibiac, and bistro, the name of which originated from the Russian word “quickly.”

Yvonne Johnson: Yes, Yvonne. I had the pleasure of being introduced to you at USC and must assure you that my sanity is in no doubt (of course on a relative scale of those whose lives revolve around eG. ) You are starting with a false premise. In the schema described, the “clothes for women” is a different animal from the “clothes for men;” therefore evaluation of the clothes for women should stay within its own category. In your case, the analogy may be drawn in comparing plums and pears or apples and oranges. Not to the genius, but to a professional in this area. Would you rather enjoy a performance of a 5th grade elementary music school student or a professional musician? No one denies people the opportunity to learn to play piano; however, it is up to them to rise to a certain professional level. Analogously, when an amateur will start giving me advice on how to interpret Scriabin, forgive me, but I may disregard his opinion. Nevertheless, I am sure that someone else with training and experience similar to this person’s would appreciate his comments.

Fat Guy: You are viewing this issue from an individualistic perspective, which is fundamentally wrong in appraising the value of a product. Yes, it is correct that “not every item… is worth the same amount of money to every person”; however, one of the criteria in evaluating the worth of the product is a collection of individual opinions, in other words “demand”. Demand is an objective entity which is based on the subjective opinion of the majority. Yes, correct. Scarcity is a critical component of demand but still not the starting point in appraising the cost of the product. In other words, if the same product grown in one village on two different fields differs in quality, the starting element of pricing this product will differ as well. Later, however, whichever component weighs more in evaluation of the food product determines the worth. If you check back, I used “in general” and “hypothetical” in my post, and especially "no personal attack." My point was directed toward those who “want to” but “can’t,” not those who “can” but consciously “don’t want to.” You do have to admit you are not in the majority on this issue. And yes, I’m a pussycat in real life.

That's not what Adam Smith had in mind. He assumed a market based on free competition which was not manipulated by monopoly.To my dismay, in NYC, Verizon recently increased the pay telephone rate for local calls from 25 cents for a few minutes to 50 cents for unlimited time. In several weeks, however, the increase was rescinded. As it appeared, people stopped using local city phones for short phone calls and apparently decided that it wasn’t worth 50 cents. This is a perfect example of how the market drove a regulated monopoly that is as close to socialism as one can get, to reduce its rates without regulatory intervention. And what would we make of this?

The only system that is currently available for evaluating different commodities is to differentiate them with a price tag. It is incorporated into our economic system and represents centuries of development since the barter economy. The purpose of the monetary system is not only to provide people with buying power, but also to appraise products based on their quality first and only then on other external measurements (like scarcity or “plentiful availability” etc.) that would comprise the final worth of the product. If the external measurement is more of an essence than the quality of a product, then the product price may deviate from its base, i.e., the quality. If anyone tries to suggest otherwise, then our monetary system is in trouble. An attempt to find fallacies in the existing approach seem to divert the attention toward either 1) class warfare and the subject of “merit” again; or 2) inability to distinguish excellent from good and bad. One’s reasoning to prove that in general less expensive products are superior to more expensive ones sadly enough very much sounds like an attempt to justify his own financial impotence (no personal attack is meant, just a hypothetical assumption ). It is so common in our society to state that “it is enough just to be happy with what we have” or that “money is a ticket to hell” or that “material success can only make you happy if you are already happy.” This viewpoint sets a comfortable cushion for those who fall (though I am not sure whether it is a bad thing necessarily; otherwise, the suicide rate might be increased dramatically ) . The ability to distinguish “excellent” from “good” and “bad,” aside from the necessary experience, must have a premise of natural talent. As in music, if one is not gifted from birth, he will never be able to grasp the nuances of the piano touch required for a pianissimo in Mozart compared to Chopin. Analogously, if one is not born with a good nose and an acute sense of smell, he may not even have the potential to appreciate the nuances of excellent vs. just very good cuisine. Like anything else, it requires talent. However, assuming that the person is “equipped”, he may never become a “performer” (i.e., never advance his palate to the point of an acute sensory instrument with the ability to dissect a dish into separate ingredients instead of just enjoying its totality.) Interestingly, we have acknowledged that making food is art, but didn’t get to the point of saying that appreciating food is art too.

I am not quite sure whether this particular example properly illustrates a key idea in the comparison of more sophisticated and therefore analytical vs. simple and hence more approachable music or food, for that matter. If correlation to classical music is to be made, I’d suggest a contrast of musical works created by different composers within the same genre rather than opera vs. “less lofty forms of music.” For instance, Saint-Saëns, whose piano works usually lack analytical depth, though they may please a listener with their emotional lyrics and clarity of form, represent rather boring study material for the performer, lacking sophistication and subtlety in the thought process. They do, however, require technical mastery to achieve fluency in performance, which can be compared to mastering a burger. Schumann’s works, on the other hand, represent an intellectual challenge for the performer, requiring an ability to dissect complicated polyphonic mosaics enriched by lyrical inspiration, and hence the parallel could be made to a more complex food preparation such as haute cuisine.