The Toxic Other

This morning on television I saw a chef make what he claimed was an Asian soup. An udon soup. As far as I'm concerned it was a bastardized version of Asian cuisine which had as many different blurring flavours as possible, and which just muddied it up and made it an exotic Othering dish for the Whitest of eaters. Now, as per usual, I'm a staunch supporter of nothing authentic, but goddamn if I wasn't shocked. This 'chef'- I think his name was Rob Fini- is no chef in my mind. Why? His coup de grace was drizzling olive oil into a bowl of 'udon soup.' Why? Because, he claimed, it looked good.

Fuck flavour, fuck focus- just put flavours you call 'Asian' in a dish- ginger, soy sauce, fish sauce, mint, coriander, basil- call it Asian. What the hell's the point? There's nothing there you can appreciate, mainly because there's nothing there to focus on. Now, I've been to Japanese hole-in-walls in J-Town in Northern Ontario where the Japanese chefs make dope fusion cuisine between Italian and Japanese, like an udon carbonara- that shit was dope. It was simple and it had focus.

Rob Fini- if that is your real name- you're a playboy- not a chef- or at least, not a good one. Go write a cookbook for rich White women. As far as I'm concerned- you don't know how to eat.

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