And while we might appreciate the vastly increased range of fresh fruits and vegetables, we start to despair of the cult of freshness when experience shows that the ‘fresh’ hydroponic lettuce, still in its cute little pot, is not much more than green water. Further, by equating ‘real food’ with food of known provenance, we are setting it in opposition to the anonymity of mainstream food, the apples that can come from anywhere in Australia, the lacklustre cherries imported from America in the depths of our winter. On the other hand, when we reject artifice and pretension in favour of simplicity of preparation and presentation, are we damning all restaurants or only those which give precedence to style over substance? Cheong Liew’s dishes are typically masterpieces of complexity, a single dish often presented with several complementary sauces and a galaxy of intricate garnishes, but I would never dare to exclude Cheong’s cuisine from my category of ‘real food’.
This takes us back to ‘real food’ in the sense of ingredients. Plain and simple can only triumph when the ingredients are high quality, so full of flavour that they become the backbone of the dish. It’s the old story of not being able to sew silk purses using sow’s ears. With insipid, characterless ingredients, simple techniques can only yield a bland, utterly forgettable dish—a dish so unenticing, in fact, that it needs to be ‘complicated’ with salt, sauces, spices and a panoply of extraneous flavours. What we are doing, then, in our understandings of ‘real food’, is establishing a set of oppositions which can be summarised as flavour versus lack of flavour. We are asserting that flavour resides in honest, natural, authentic ingredients prepared simply, in such a way as to highlight their particular qualities. With this assertion we are also giving primacy to the pleasure of eating. According to a recent article in the Journal of Happiness Studies, people who enjoy eating not only want to enjoy the experience but
also pay attention to the flavours of the foods they are eating. If flavour is lacking, pleasure will be diminished. But we should not be too dogmatic in insisting on the rightness of our understandings in respect of ‘real food’. Others might disagree. Just as there are super-tasters whose palates are particularly sensitive to bitterness, so there are individuals who crave sweetness or demand a chilli hit. In the end, it comes down to tastes, in the broadest sense of the term, and taste preferences, however much culturally conditioned, are still very much a personal affair. R F Barbara was a speaker at the 2nd National Farmers’ Markets Conference in Albury in August. She was also part of Tasting Australia 2003 in Adelaide. Barbara is the Program Manager for the Graduate Program in Gastronomy at The University of Adelaide, South Australia. www.gastronomy.adelaide.edu.au
HANDS UP IF YOU HAVE VISITED A FARMERS’ MARKET OK Madam, put your hand down again, you’re our favourite Regional Foodie. As for the rest of you, maybe your excuse is that you don’t know where one is? www.farmersmarkets.com.au is our contribution to providing a single updated list of Farmers and Growers
markets around Australia. If we’re going to change the world one stomach at a time, you need to see what these markets have to offer. That’s the freshest regional and seasonal produce you’ll find. And you can talk to the person who grows or makes it— that doesn’t happen in your supermarket aisle does it!
Go on, visit a Farmers’ Market!
www.farmersmarkets.com.au
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