Right. I am away from home at the moment, staying at a house which doesn't have all the things I need. Like, there are only tiny frying pans, there aren't any spices/condiments/salt etc.
So I have been buying the minimal things I need to cook food I like, and working with what is there.
I took a tin of cheap, mass-produced fish out of the cupboard that I did not buy and was probably a mistaken purchase (everything in that cupboard needs to be used up), and on the basis that wasting food is a crime, I cooked it and added the simplest things alongside; some broccoli and a baguette.
The meal I ate is one of the best things I have ever eaten, and it has improved my relationship with food, overnight.
On that basis, if I go to an expensive restaurant and do not get food that is qualitatively better and not just different and in its own category, then I am being taken for a fool.
So I am glad to hear that your Chez Panisse experience was what it was.
Why?
Does novelty have no value for you?
The Michelin Star restaurant isn't just "different", it's a difference that is hard to find.
Michelin Star ratings:
1 Star: Worth a stop when you are driving.
2 Star: Worth a detour when you are driving.
3 Star: Worth a dedicated trip.
Price is, as with everything, supply vs demand.
> Does novelty have no value for you?
Absurd.
What kind of "novelty" is there for _you_ in eating food at an expensive restaurant that is not qualitatively better than that which you can buy more cheaply? That isn't novelty, it's foolishness.
I don't need Michelin star ratings explained to me, I know all about them. I also know that people make dumb decisions when their aspirations, jealousies and FOMO are tickled.
But I’m not an artist with food. For me, the novelty comes from seeing what artists can come up with given the space to just create.
Then I get even more value because I can take what I learned and cook it at home. I get to relive the dining experience when I cook. And if I get to cook that dish (or another dish inspired by it) for someone else, I get to share the story again!
We’re all different and our relationships with food are no different so I don’t expect to convince you. I definitely don’t think you’re wrong. But that’s how I get value out of meals I can often prepare myself, even after I’ve thoroughly ripped them off.
That would be like an ARFID theme park. [0]
Which now I think of it is a good description of this:
https://everywhereist.com/2021/12/bros-restaurant-lecce-we-e...
Honestly, some of the justifications for the poor value proposition and past poor experiences of "fine dining" really make me chuckle. Food shouldn't be an exam, an IQ test, or a show of sophistication or class. Putting up with being misled by people selling you sophistication but delivering you average food is silly, and yet it happens a lot.
[0] I have ARFID, pretty much totally ignorable now but hell when I was a child.
Oh and for the people who will get snippy and downvote me because I didn't give them a direct link to the wikipedia entry for the acronym they just aren't informed enough to have heard of before, fine, here's your link:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avoidant/restrictive_food_inta...
By and large, most Michelin-starred restaurants are not like Bros. You get enough food so you don't walk out feeling hungry. The food tastes good, and is cooked beautifully, using high-quality ingredients. And sometimes, yes, depending on the restaurant, they will also do something novel with that food and with flavors.
As I say, I battled (and I'm sure my parents battled even more) significantly with ARFID as a child, but as an adult I really eat all sorts of stuff, having learned a lot about food and a bit about cookery, to conquer fear. I don't really have red lines (apart from those dictated by one dietary sensitivity and pretty conclusive lactose intolerance, boo). So dining out is fun.
I might even be less fussy than average because I am comfortable with putting in some pre-restaurant menu research, which has invariably led to me enjoying my choices and exploring new stuff.
But I have learned over time that a lot of people who think they can taste the quality of a thing could not in a blind test, that a lot of people who believe they can pick out specific rare ingredients only think they can because they read the menu, etc.
A lot of people can taste the bill, not the food.
What I am still finely tuned to resent, and I suppose it could be on show here, particularly in my Jay Rayner stanning, is bad experiences being treated snobbishly or in a judgemental way, because that can dig up some difficult memories.
So I am way past being difficult about food -- I'm not a child and I'm not Paul Hollywood. People eat what they like and enjoy what they like, and that is fabulous.
But if serving staff show dismissive tone or body language if any one of my party (it won't be me) asks a question about food that suggests unworldliness or awkwardness or fear of food, they will get the smallest acceptable tip, and I will quietly choose the cheapest things on the menu.
And if food is expensive and sold as the work of experts, but of poor or average quality, I'm not going to sit back and say, well, fine dining is about the experience and it was a novel experience. I'm going to tell people I didn't enjoy it! (Not the staff. They will get told it was "fine", in a non-committal British way that holds multitudes.)
I think framing it as being "better" (or not) than a regular meal doesn't really capture it. I certainly expect the food at a Michelin-starred (or other high-end) establishment to use fresh, high-quality ingredients, and to be seasoned and cooked properly. But I also very much appreciate just eating something different. I cook a decent amount at home, but I probably cook the same 6 or 7 dishes, with some small differences, over and over. When I go out to "normal" restaurants, I eat the same 30-odd dishes over and over.
Not that I don't enjoy all that! I certainly do. But sometimes I just want something drastically different. Flavors and flavor combinations that I don't encounter anywhere else. Specialty ingredients that I would never buy for myself, and aren't usually found in most restaurant meals. And I'm willing to pay a bit extra to get that experience every now and then.
But I think this is also just a false dichotomy. A restaurant isn't going to get a Michelin star just because they do something novel; the food has to be good, too. And some don't try to do novel things, but aspire to be the absolute best at a particular kind of cuisine or dish, and get awarded stars based on that.
That being said, if you like the food, then eat it, and if not, don't, regardless of whether it's Michelin or not.
You do it every time you go out to determine where you want to go. You compare the two based on value, taste, frequency, and atmosphere.
All subjective of course, but it's a personal preference you can compare.
If the food was awful, the atmosphere or "novelty" was uncomfortable/unenjoyable/mediocre, the price was high in option A, you will feel cheated and would have rather had gone to option B. That experience will influence future decisions when comparing and deciding on a place.
I'm not in the camp of "novelty has no value" but also not in the camp of "novelty automatically makes things better or worthwhile"
The only point of novelty is to discover new things I enjoy.
Eating at a fine dining restaurant and coming away with "that wasn't very good but it sure was novel" would be disappointing, and I'd probably think I had wasted my time and money on it compared to going to my favorite restaurant and eating my favorite meal there.
Also one of the joys of cooking is that you are experiencing the immediate fruits your own labor. There's no prolonged scrum meetings, release cycles, delayed launches, etc. It such a simple feedback loop that it's a great way to give yourself short-term gratification. I've found even food prep is cathartic to a degree.
Or it just tasted nice ;-)
This actually comes into play with tacos a lot. In LA at least, some of the best tasting meat, specialty stuff like birria with actual goat stewed for hours with love with traditional techniques perhaps, is not going to be easily found in any restaurant. You will find it served in tin foil or styrofoam off a folding table under a canopy tent on the sidewalk. They start stewing the meat on site hours before even making their first sale, which might even be well after the sun has set. The restaurant model cannot afford this overhead much less at the pricepoint offered by these vendors (usually like $1.50 a taco) thanks to stuff like rent and more stringent health protocols that would condemn any home kitchen you've eaten out of in your life, so food like that doesn't even really exist in the marketplace otherwise.
Huh? Are you under the impression that restaurants don't spend hours prepping their food? It takes a good pizzeria three days to make their dough. You couldn't do that at a roadside stand.
I can't think of a single dish that you can make at a roadside stand but not in a restaurant with significantly better facilities. You're making a correlation vs causation error here -- yes, there are some types of food that you will more typically encounter in food-truck-type situations (e.g. in NYC that'd be something like lamb over rice with white and red sauce), but that's not because restaurants can't do it. There's just market segmentation.
Put a price constraint on it, and you probably agree with the parent poster.
Another similar category are top notch sushi restaurants. An omakase at a very nice sushi restaurant is not going to have that different of a setup from an omakase at another restaurant. What elevates the sushi is the technique, the quality of the fish, and the quality of the rice. Surprisingly, the rice is one of the more noticeable aspects. In a good sushi restaurant the rice should fall apart in your mouth with the perfect lukewarm temperature.
Probably one reason the author of the linked article was able to describe her enjoyment of her meal so well is that she was eating alone.
One of my favorite meals at a fairly expensive (but definitely not Michelin-level) restaurant was a roast chicken. I got it reluctantly, why should I spend this much on roast chicken? But there wasn't anything else on the limited menu I wanted, of choice of like three mains.
It was the best roast chicken I've ever had, like notably. I still have no idea how you make roast chicken taste that good. I still remember it, honestly in part because of the surprise.
There are also other places where I've had delicious things I've never seen anywhere else, sure.
There is technique like injecting the brine and managing the smoke flavors but that’s like 10% of the work of raising the chicken.
Thinking it might be worth raising a few on pasture just to check the difference in taste. Maybe this'll be the year!
My wife started feeling ill and there was nothing nearby but we remembered passing a motel about 30 miles back and Denali was at least another 90 minutes away. We went in to get a room for the night and I'm not exaggerating when I say that the place would probably be condemned if it were anywhere else. The price of the room was insane, but it was the only hotel in at least 50 miles so it was either that or sleep in the car.
The only thing I remember specifically from dinner was a smoked chicken and root beer. I love root beer and the menu claimed it was made by a local about 10 miles away.
The quality of the food was incredible.
Yeah, I've never paid $30 for half a chicken before or since, but it was the best chicken I've ever had. So was the root beer and whatever else we had for dinner. Everything they put on that table was absolutely delicious. And this at a tiny roadside motel where we were apparently the only guests.
Wish I could remember the name of that place.
I don't know Chez Panisse but for example if you want to improve the taste of pasta you cook at home add a tablespoon or two of salt to the water when you cook it.
In the same chapter, the author also observes that you need to consider the total amount of salt coming from other ingredients, such as the cheese, stocks, or cured meats. Depending on the ingredients, especially cured meats, you might already be working with a lot of salt before you add any of your own.
In my case, there are two considerations at play. (1) I use the pasta water for thickening the sauce, so any salt I put in the pasta water is also going into the sauce at that concentration. (2) I finish the pasta in the already-seasoned sauce before serving, so the pasta isn't going onto the plate unsalted. End result is that I salt the pasta water when I know I have ample head room to work with, which is most times, but not always.
When I went to Chez Panisse for the first time—not Michelin starred, but still well-regarded—I didn't know what to expect. What surprised me was that it was just "what I normally eat" but better. Not fancy, not exotic, not flashy; at a surface level, it was less interesting than food I've had at "normal" restaurants... but it was somehow just better. It surprised me because I hadn't realize just how much room there was to improve on the details and execution of, well, "normal" cooking.
I've occasionally seen something similar with codebases. Most code does what it needs to do, more or less, and hopefully it's not awful, but there are all kinds of sharp edges, inconsistencies, extra sources of friction—when I need to make a change, it's doable, but even the happy path has a bit of extra friction here and there, things that are clearly missing or in the wrong place or a bit hacky. And then, once in a while, I run into code that doesn't have those problems. Everything just somehow comes together; when I need to do something, there's an obvious way of doing it; when there's something odd in the design, it ends up addressing something I hadn't thought about. Somebody wrote the code with experience, attention to detail and the will to do quality work for its own sake. I don't know if it's the same with cooking, but with this kind of code, it generally took less time and effort for the people writing it than I'd expect from teams working on messier codebases.
Running into things like this is a visceral reminder that even "normal" things—normal food, normal code—can just be better. A lot.