Medium Raw: Well done

Anthony Bourdain – the name in itself commands a sort of fear, respect and inspiration to most aspirational foodies world over, me included.  Bourdain has come to be known as one of the most celebrated chefs, critics and authors worldwide – someone who will make you cringe with his abusive, almost callous and cold critique of food (McDonalds’ chicken nuggets was by far the worst hit).

I have no reservations in saying he is the cherry on the cake of food programming. For one thing, he does not pretend to be an intellectual. Unpretentious, often downright uneducated about the country he visits; his reactions are honest, very human and frequently funny.  He takes his food as it comes. And his people too. He is no gourmet in this series and doesn't pretend to be, though he knows what tastes good and what he likes. He is not, never ever, condescending. His humour is self-deprecatory which is attractive as against Vir Sanghvi's self-congratulatory style (‘Rude Food’ is by fare one of the most obnoxiously bad food shows I’ve ever seen).

Bourdian can also write quite a mean cookbook, his most recent being - Medium Raw: A Bloody Valentine to the World of Food and the People Who Cook. After making waves with his best-seller Kitchen Confidential, which looked at the goings on inside the kitchen from an outsider’s point of view, Bourdain’s new book is slightly more tempered - a trait that much reflects how the man himself has become after decades in the business.

Bourdain is a perennial outsider and that's why he is such an interesting and illuminating writer. Never feeling comfortable in the status quo, he is able to cast an inquisitory eye on the cult of celebrity that has come to be associated with cooking these days. Reflecting back on his upbringing, there is no trauma or suffering in his childhood. It seems a need for stimulation and excitement takes the young student into the world of haute cuisine and then into a descending spiral of drug and alcohol dependency. While Kitchen Confidential caught the angry young man, today Bourdain, the father of young girl, no longer cares to indulge the mortal dangers of being cool.

The alternative rebel and adult engage in a fierce debate throughout the book. He offers an admonitory chapter on the real seductions of becoming a chef. He describes the frightening challenges of running a profitable restaurant in economically difficult times. He rails against vegetarians like George Orwell once did, but in a far more furious way. The chapters that describe the suicidal man he was following a divorce, the addiction to hard drugs, are now replaced by the need to live for someone else. Now his concerns are mainstream. The shock at the way the meat industry delivers their product to our supermarkets and his careful counter programming of his daughter against the seductive marketing of McDonalds.

Yes, he is tamer, but don't be fooled: he is not by any means domesticated. Medium Raw is a fitting title for  the man whose love affair with food continues much as a protective, almost possessive lover who lives for his muse; but he does so now while coming to terms with his whoremongering and making peace with selling out to a food network. All this while his bark and bite remain clearly intact. Well done, indeed!

Don't do the dew!

After much hype and hoopla, a couple of friends and I decided to check out Dewberry's one sunny afternoon. Ravenous, and wanting to vent about office woes, all of us were geared for coffee, cheese steaks and more.

With a vast and extensive menu, what I will give the team at Dewberry's is that they have come up with a menu, which has something for everyone. However, that, sadly, is also their shortcoming. Because not one, and I repeat NOTHING that we tasted on the menu was worth its salt (In my case, I got salt only after I went up to the counter and got it myself).

We ordered a portion of cheesy, garlicky bread, an alternate topping on bruschetta and a portion of fries. Both were extremely small in terms of portion and absolutely lacked ANY taste. In fact, the bruschetta bread was soft and the cheese dry. The banana and oats shake that a friend ordered smacked of absolutely no originality and had a crust of bournvita on top. Determined not to let our initial impression leave a bitter taste in our mouth, we ordered a portion of pesto penne and a chicken steak, which was supposed to be stuffed with something, I don't remember what (but then again, it was not worth remembering either).

My penne was overcooked, the pesto was gooey and runny (quite a feat to achieve both at one go, don't you think) and had exactly three sliced black olives. Even though we did manage to finish it, we were terribly disappointed. Our friend on the other hand got a chicken steak that was uncooked (on asking they said it was poached and hence it had that flavour and colour), insipid and he REFUSED to finish it. We did complain to the manager who merely said 'Ok', did not present us with a comments card, just our cheque. Now that I have vented, I will tell you my basic problem with a place such as Dewberrys.

• Staff that looks absolutely disinterested in serving you and are trained to say just a few words: No, Can't, Not Available.
• A beautiful setting that could have people flocking by the droves, if only the food were palatable.
• Prices that do NOT justify the portions.
  
  I really hope the management does something to improve the quality and standard of the food at a place that I personally believe has the potential to become a success, if only it had something substantial to offer on the plate.
  
  (Note: Pictures are for representative purposes only, and bear no resemblance to any of the food we ate that day)