robert brown

Steve, I don't understand something. How can you push a button that removes the history of art and still have art books? The button seems to have disappeared in the last few hours. Also are you picking on the 16th century because of the portraits you mentioned? Just checking, as the greatest ones in the Prado were painted in the 17th century. Furthermore, if the populace decided what was good for them, the Church would have become greatly marginalized, perhaps even done away with. As for the other matters you raise through your personal, theoretical reconfiguring of history, I do not see the point in replying with theoretical answers I think I answered the question about Collichio's goals. He doesn't need to state them; just cook 'em up and send 'em out. Any question I would have, such as where he got a certain ingredient, I can almost always ask the waiter and get the answer. As far as Picasso, he isn't around any more to ask, but as far as I can tell, the goals he talked about the most were making money and getting laid.

Robert S.,Did you work with Marilyn Simms at the Cooper-Hewitt? Everyone is so nice there. By coincidence last Saturday a friend called me on her cell phone from Wright's house in Hudson. Is that a fine treat worth going up for? I am sorry for the delay in answering your questions to me. In so far as art history is an interdisciplinary pursuit, it is critical to know the climate of the time. I think we have not deliniated enough between appreciating the work of living artists and art that is decades or centuries old. I said that it can be useful to have a kind of road map provided by the artist. However, the vast majority of artists never deemed it necessary to write about themselves. I think that is a fairly recent phenomenon in the entire scheme of things. As for culinary concerns, I think people got a little confused by not realizing, perhaps, that I specifically found Collechio's remark that he was influenced by steakhouses in starting Craft to be of little or no relevance in my experiencing his cooking. This does not preclude that I would find something else he said enlightening vis a vis himself or Craft. Of course I am very curious about good chefs; I like to know where they learned, where they apprenticed, whom they admire in their field, what I may miss or misidentify in a dish,etc. I never sat down with a chef for an appreciable length of time, however. Nonetheless, I think I can get a more truthful or accurate reading of a chef and a restaurant just by watching and talking with my mates during the meal. Generally speaking, I still stick to my proof/pudding remark since the concerns of a cuinary creation are much less, and less-compelling, than those of a painting, novel, and a ground-breaking example of industrial design.

I will try to be brief here since I have spent too much time on what has appropriately become the mother of all threads. Steve, apparently you limited your visit to the Prado to the 16th-Century Spanish section that takes up the middle section of the first floor. Had you continued to the far end, you would have seen a fine collection of Goya’s work that depict everyday Spanish life. Even if you take the work of one of the great painters of Spanish Royalty, Diego de Velazquez, (1599-1660), I find, looking at my brother’s monograph ( nominated for a National Book Award, by the way) pictures titled “Three Men at Table”, “Three Musicians”, “Old Woman Cooking”, “Waterseller” and many more that offer proof that daily life was a fitting subject for painters in 17th-century Spain. (I am also surprised that you missed the many paintings with food as their subject matter). What does poverty have to do with the painting of masterpieces when so many of the greatest works of fine and applied art of all time were commissioned by the Church for the benefit and enlightenment of the populace? Yet, even if you argued that only the nobility in Europe could commission and collect works of art, so what? You will not see the great unwashed dining at Craft, either. As for the rest of your post, what does McDonald’s have to do with creativity? And what is your realistic goal of the bit about the button pushing? Is it wrong to think that it is a hypothetical manufactured out of complete fantasy? If you are writing about a theoretical trade off between “human rights and wealth distribution” for the history of art, welcome to the world of Philistines and a cultural environment more appropriate to the souk, the Bazaar, or the Mosque. And if you got rid of the history of art for more human rights, would a person be allowed to go to an art library and read an art book? Or would you have gotten rid of all the art libraries too?

CK. We blew two already. Nice work. Have fun at the park tonight.

Every person who is knowledgeable about art in its universal manifestations, which, by the way, extend far beyond New York City’s largest art institution, knows that museum admissions are a drop in the bucket and never are considered more than a subsidy from the art-loving resident or visitor. It is strictly a waste of time to try to figure out how much a museum would have to charge to meet its expenses with admissions revenue only. It is a calculation that people have fancifully done for decades. Scholarly researchers, organizers and curators of exhibitions, archeologists working on the site of the remains of ancient civilizations, and those earning their livelihoods in undertakings I have already mentioned, cannot charge admission. There have been other people with opinions on this thread, one of whom is Stefany who raised the concept Thursday night on Page One of the Intentionist Fallacy, even though she did not use that precise term. She, in turn, brought up Robert Schonfeld’s remarks that a chef like Collechio may be retiscent, as may be an artist, to talk about his work. In this regard, there is some applicable relevance to chefs of the concerns of the Intentionist Fallacy. It is primarily the remarks of these two that motivated my initial point of departure on this thread. Beyond this, I am unable to address your entreaties in the terms of rigorous debate because, first, you indeed have talked a lot about art; second, you invoke some kind of analogy where an analogy doesn’t appear to exist. As for what further I can address: sure the Thomas Kinkaid-types of the world would be happy to go on late night television and explain why they paint cottages in bucolic settings. But how many books are in existence with titles such as “The Meaning of ‘Guernica’ in Pablo Picasso’s Own Words”. I am not saying that great living artists, especially in this day and age, do not or should not discuss their work and that providing guideposts, a sketchy outline or autobiographical remarks are not useful points of departure. But no truly great artist is going to take someone by the hand and then shove a comprehensive, dogmatic interpretation of his or her work down someone’s throat. Otherwise that person would not be a great artist.

Just to correct something I wrote above, I meant to say that the Conde-Nast Traveler Top 50 is the gastronome's contrarian Bible, not the contrartian gastronome's Bible. In other words, it is, in my opinion, a guide to restaurants to avoid.

Steve, I am having a hard time following and answering your post when in mid-sentence you switch over to a different concern of the debate. Nonetheless, I thought it useful to describe what comprises the depth and the significance of the discipline of art history since you stated that if somehow scholars no longer needed to interpret works of art, the ranks, tasks, and the crucial nature of this discipline would be decimated. I think most people know that organizations that employ art historians are not “customer-driven”; that instead they are largely dependent on governmental and philanthropic largess, the latter of which is provided by businesses and individuals who realize that the quality of life and the glory of Western civilization would be much poorer without these organizations and the researchers and craftsmen they employ. The study of the miracle of civilization on earth comprises the art historians’ “customers”. Great art has many more than two truths. What it means to an individual or to a culture is never fixed, predetermined, or quantifiable. “Guernica” will never stop being in an intellectual dormant state. It will always continue to engage and provoke sensitive and intelligent people and change its “meaning” with the passage of time and the values and sensitivities of future generations. What will always remain is its overwhelming power to shock the viewer with its instantaneous evocation of the horror of war, thereby casting its greatness both immediately and indefinitely. Picasso would want it no other way. A true artist wants the work of art to resonate with meaning and to do the work of communicating. That he or she would be obliged to provide “his interpretation” is often an anathema, demeaning his or her audience, short-circuiting debate or serious discussion, and precluding any future re-interpretation or new insight.

Good point on which you end your post, Steve. I just wonder, though, who would be left to run museums; build and manage public collections; curate exhibitions; write the books and catalogues; determine the authorship and authenticity of works of art and how they were created; decipher iconography;study the history of mankind, civilizations and nations through architecture and the making and collecting of art and artifacts; learn how to go about restoring paintings, sculpture, works on paper, historic monuments and various kinds of artifacts in the fittest manner; conduct archaelogical excavations; and, perhaps most important, teach people something about connoisseurship?

Invoking the Intentionist Fallacy as to dining or cooking is best left to people with pretensions. Chefs are quasi-tradesmen and quasi-businessmen. Their intentions, including the opaque one of modeling one kind of restaurant after another kind of restaurant, is irrelevant to the basic experience. Of course it is not without interest to learn such facts, but as a practical matter, it hardly matters: The proof of the pudding is in the eating. With great artists, however, it is a different story: Such people have the entire spiritual world at their fingertips to grasp, retain, make statements about, and transform it Hack artists may need to revert to intentionist utterances to bolster the reception of their work by mollifying or putting at ease his or her audience. Great artists, on the other hand, hardly want to demystify their creativity by explaining it. In fact, certain artists (Andy Warhol, for one) have been known to deliberately mislead in this respect, so miffed are they at having to explain the “meaning” of their art. Great art speaks for itself and is best left open to an intention or interpretation that can be controversial, thought-provoking, personal to the individual who confronts it, and subject to reinterpretation over time.

But Bux, those don't sound like ballpark franks.

I get asked to bring hot dog rolls. Bon Voyage. (To yet another Francophile named Lizzy).

Rosie, Tom is probably too modest, and most likely wears his stature and achievement with a quiet self-assurance, to care to write even a few words.

Circeplum, I assume you mean further trips to Venice. I haven't been there in a very long time, but your general impression of restaurants is pretty much true. Nonetheless, I would try to find a back-issue of "The Art of Eating" that had a section on Venetian cuisine, including several restaurant recommendations. This was about two or three years ago. Let me know if you need any help. I can try to put my hands on my copy.

Lest I bring up the old bugaboo of the external or psychological factors of the moment having an impact on the degree to which one enjoys a bottle of wine, I would have to say that two of the most memorable wine-drinking experiences I have ever had were in restaurants being only with my wife. The first was nearly ten ago at the old Harald's on Route 9 between Danbury and Wappinger's Falls. We drank a 1983 Clos de la Roche from Hubert Lignier. The second, around six years ago, was at the Bastide de Moustiers where the bottle in question was a 1985 Clos Vougeot from Meo-Camuzet. While I have had "better" wines now and again, both of these wines remain indelible in my head. Both had the structure, chewiness and intense red fruit you only find in the best Cote de Nuits wines and beg the question of how can you blow big money on any other wine outside that miniscule part of the world.

Don't you know that the Conde-Nast Traveler Top 50 is the contrarian gastronome's Bible?

Liz, do you really need it? How about the Isenheimer Altarpiece?

Bux, a surprising choice, yet interesting. If someone wants to sneak over the border as part of a food holiday, why not? I recommend to people to do the same while on the Cote d'Azur.(See JD's thread close by). In fact, this plays into another idea for a topic that I have been batting around with Cabrales and which I will try to post in the next few days.

Cabrales, I was thinking more a food-immersion holiday limited to a region. I know how you like to bop around in highly peripatetic fashion. One can include in their considerations before replying phenomena such as markets, self-catering resources,gastronomic sights (cheese and wine producers, specialty shops,etc.) Of course restaurants are what usually set the standards or the chief reasons for choosing a destination.

If you wanted to do gastronomic touring in France for at least ten days and wanted to limit the amount of traveling you had to do, which region or area other than Paris would you choose? In terms of top-of-the-line eating, many of the most interesting chefs are no longer clustered in a contiguous area as was the case 15-20 years ago in Burgundy, the Lyonnais and Rhone Valley. Now one has to go to the Savoie, Alsace, Auvergne, and Brittany to experience the likes of Veyrat, Klein, Bras, and Roellinger. One can make a case for Burgundy because of the wines and tradition of classic cuisine, mixed in with solidly good, perhaps not earth-shattering restaurants. Lyon has the advantage of being small and packing a lot of gastronomy without venturing too far. Also a trip to Annecy is within easy reach, as is the Rhone Valley. Brittany apparently has greatly improved and is paradise for the seafood maven. As a few people know, I am partial to the Cote d’Azur as it incorporates in its culinary possibilities Provencal, seafood, and Italian accents in enough interesting and highly-rated restaurants to keep one busy. Even if you haven’t been to all of these areas, don’t be reluctant to state your reasons why you like a certain region which, of course can also be Alsace, Normandie, the Dordogne, Bordeaux region, Pyrenees, and even others. For the sake of rigor, let’s say that your choice should be limited to an area that requires no more than two hours drive in any direction from where you might stay or a major town or city.

Steve, when I get home I will check my Rabaudy book from c. 1976 and "The Great Chefs of France" as they concern the Moulin de Mougins in its heyday. I recall that the two most famous dishes didn't exactly qualify as regional: Homard au Sauternes and the steak with three peppers. I may also have an old menu. While I am at it, I think one can make a good case that outside of Paris, the Cote d'Azur or Alpes-Maritimes, would be the first culinary destination in terms of satisfaction. The question deserves a thread of its own. In fact, I think I will start it now.

Mao, I have been to Blue Hill four times in the last three months or so. Ordering the degustation keeps seeming to me to yield the most satisfaction. True, this menu is as fixed as can be and for the entire table, but done so in a way that always works. The one time we ordered a la carte, the meal wasn't as balanced. The portions in the menu are never copious, but they give you enough to leave comfortably filled. I also find Blue Hill tasteful and without pretense. It's definitely a place that seems to attract people who take their food seriously. It is very far from a scene kind of place. You may also bring wine; otherwise their list is nice and is reasonable. A 1999 Peter Michael "Mon Plaisir" was $70. there and $225 at Lespinasse. Have fun.

In case you were wondering why the Mouth of the South of France hasn't chimed in before this, it's because he has just returned from the Beautiful Berkshires-New English Berkshires- not the the plain English County singular one. I have to say that the food is a lot worse between Great Barrington and Pittsfield than it is between Cannes and Monaco. My rule # 1 for dining while in/on the Cote d'Azur is (even though it is cheating): cross the border into Italy. Right at the border after Menton there are two Michelin one-stars: Balzi Rossi and Baja Benjamin. The latter showed me signs of slippage recently and the former is a place I need to revisit after four years. Nonetheless, the basic level of honesty and fresh produce there makes them more of a better bet for avoiding a mediocre meal. The next town, Bordighera, also offers two one-stars: Carletto and Via Romano. I prefer the former: Artful tradition-based Ligurian sea food of impeccable freshness. Via Romano offers a well-priced, delicious lunch menu in very elegant late 19th-century surroundings above the main part in town where remarkable and luxurious old villas abound. From Nice you can drive there in about the same time you would get to the center of Cannes battling the traffic in Le Cannet. I agree with some of the names above. La Petite Maison in the best for Nicois cooking and its next-door neighbor, just about, La Terre de Truffes may have slipped a bit (perhaps becuase I went last month during a "tweener" time for truffles. But Bruno's wife who now is in charge of the place is rather bitchy, which detracts from the visit. In the commercial pedestrian area (as opposed to the old section) the best of the lot is Albert's which is quasi-Nicois and Italian. Ethnic specialty restaurants can be a pleasant change. In this regard I recommend Chez Miraille (paella in a non-descript area between the main drag and Cimiez) and in Cros de Cagne La Gazelle d'Or for Couscous Royale. (Dharkhoum in Menton also has good cous-cous and a large Moroccan menu). Not mentioned, but may now be the best restaurant around is Hostellerie Jerome in La Turbie (now two stars). I described my recent meal there in a discussion about lemons, I believe. In Monaco, there is nothing now that I can strongly recommend. If, however, you are there lunch time, there is a very good fish restaurant in a little park next to the Prince's Palace whose name escapes me and is not in the Gault-Millau. But it's fresh very fresh fish classically prepared. In Beaulieu-Cap Ferrat territory, the lunch buffet at La Grand Hotel du Cap-Ferrat is fun to go to, but the food is mediocre. If you want to chuckle at ugly Americans, nothing beats the outdoor buffet restaurant at the Hotel du Cap in Cap d'Antibes. There the food is better than that at the Grand Hotel. Also bad buffet food can be had at the Monte Carlo Grand Hotel. Taking a simple lunch at the Hotel Metropole's dining terrace is very pleasant especially if you get a table right by the balustrade facing the sea. La Reserve may still have the best wine list in the area. Frankly, I need to return. A more recent visit, last summer, to the dining room of the recently-restored Hotel Royal Riviera turned up an overreaching, pretentiously-conceived dinner by a chef not up to the task. It's the kind of meal that tells you not to consider a second change; you just know it. Chibois, in my three visits to his own restaurant, has never equalled the meal I had from him at the Royal Gray in Canne's Gray Albion Hotel about six years ago. That lunch was a revelation and a marvelous introduction to what I called at the time the special "light and bright" cooking of the Cote d'Azur when food is at its best. Maybe Chibois has too much on his hands running a fancy hotel-restaurant. Thanks JD for posting. And welcome. Keep it up.

Suvir, how does pasteurizaton (or raw milk) fit into the yogurt, cheese, etc. picture in India?

I would bet it is open, Jo Goldenberg.

I am no stranger to Indian food, although next to Suvir I feel like one. I have eaten hundreds of Indian meals ranging from one in a Muslim neighborhood in Delhi to a vegetarian outdoor buffet in Ahmanebad to a feast in the home of a former big-wig exec also in Delhi. Of course there are the Indian meals in Western Europe and the USA that tend to be the sub-continent's version of "Internationale" Italian food. Nonetheless my first visit to Dimple a couple of nights ago was quite unlike any other Indian meal I have ever had. At first I was put off by both the sign in the front window advertising the fact that the food was kosher (no doubt for the garment and textile crowd) and that a lot of the food was sitting in bains-maries in front of the three women Suvir talks about. There are Indian touches in the decor, but you have to look hard to see them. The tables are Formica, if I recall, with caddies holding extra cutlery and napkins at the end of each one. A plainly dressed young Indian lad waited on us in bare-bones fashion. We decided to try a few familiar dishes to establish some kind of a cukinary baseline, and ventured out in ignorance for the others. The menu is so large (close to 100 dishes, maybe even more) that you either have to know your stuff like Suvir does or decide you're going to become a regular hoping that after 20 visits or so you will finally have a good handle on the place. We began with Dahi Chaat ($5.50) a copious portion of lentil dumplings in yogurt sauce with chick peas and a crunch vermicelli. It was as good as can find in NYC's up-scale Indian restaurants. Alu Chaat ($4.99) there was disappointing to us: The little cubes of potatoes were cold and undercooked. Fafda ($3.50), which are trough-shape sticks of chick pea bread we also found to be bland, although the yogurt sauce (colored golden yellow possibly by saffron?) that came with it was nice and makes a nice dipping sauce for other breads one may order. Paneer Tikka ($6.99) was delicious, it being cubes of white cheese in the same sauce that chicken tikka comes in. The cheese was of a nice soft texture and very fresh tasting. Although one would guess that the restaurant does not have a tandoor, the butter naan bread we ordered came to us piping hot, right out of the oven. It was one of the best we ever had; so good we ordered another. To conclude we had what may have been the biggest surprise of the night: a commercially made rashmalai with nuts that was better than many home-made ones we have had in restaurants. We left as big fans of Dimple. In its bare-bones way it has an honesty, even an authenticity that anyone who has rubbed elbows with the Indian citizenry in the country's every-day restaurants will appreciate. A place like this is what people should mean when they say that New York is the restaurant capital of the world.