Fine dining - an art?
Cooking is an art.
I would be the first person to agree with that.
When we move beyond the basic necessity of cooking as a means to feed and sustain humans with the required nutrients, cooking has evolved into an institution with seemingly endless possibilities, traditions, techniques, and tastes. There is a rich history in everything we eat, each ingredient, technique, and flavour combination, and even if we may not always view it in this way, I would consider every act of cooking or preparing food as a fundamentally creative process, thus making it, in my opinion, art.
Each party partaking in this process may have varying levels of skill and differing aspirations as to the artistic level of their creations. A working parent making dinner for the family after a long day may want a final product which easy to make, edible and somewhat nutritious. A head chef at a popular restaurant will require their dish to be flavourful, complex yet comforting, balanced, and plated beautifully.
Fine dining may be the sector which has most maximised the concept of cooking and food as an art form.
A visit to a fine dining restaurant may resemble a trip to an art gallery; like viewing an artist’s exhibition, you enter the restaurant to be presented with a menu following a theme, a philosophy, a technique or a particular tradition that may be connected to the artist’s background.
Each artwork – or dish – is carefully conceptualised, crafted, and presented by the artist or in consideration of the artist’s style. With each work, we can analyse its colours, its focal points, technique, ratio, composition, its connection to history and tradition or its abandonment thereof, and its impact on the spectator or diner. Instead of the little note next to a painting explaining the artist’s process and the technique used – oil on canvas – we may have a server illustrating the essence of each dish and give a few points as to the origins of the ingredients – linguine with garlic and Sicilian lemon.
Once cooking could be fully approached in this approach of art, the possibilities seemed to become limitless.
Celebrated fine dining chefs like Ferran Adrià helped to revolutionise fine dining and lifted off the lid for what can be done and served in restaurants. They popularised dining experiences where guests are fooled, tricked, and their expectations and understanding of food challenged. Fine dining became an experience rather than an opportunity to simply feed and satiate oneself. It challenged the definition of what cooking and eating entails. With the guests’ experience in mind, the focus was now no longer simply on the food, but also on the design of the dining premises, the service, the atmosphere, the accompanying drinks, and in many instances, the status connected with the institution and those taking part in it. Each visit may allow guests an insightful evening, allowing them to sample a variety of flavours and impressions from a particular cuisine, embrace an interpretation of the local, seasonal ingredients, or be baffled by entirely unfamiliar creations – some of which may walk the line between food and barely edible chemistry.
As someone who heartily agrees to cooking being considered and treated as an art form, it would be hypocritical for me to not appreciate the insights and experiences fine dining restaurants provide. If done well, an evening at a fine dining restaurant can be an exquisite experience that you will remember and cherish for the rest of your life.
However, although I would not consider myself an expert on fine dining, I already find myself growing tired of it.
I find this type of cuisine has become a little outdated, inaccessible, and not necessarily very enjoyable. The novelty it may have presented a few decades ago seems lost, and the exaggerated artfulness simply makes for a somewhat tiring eating experience. When I do find myself in a fine dining restaurant, while I may eat some tasty things and enjoy the experience overall, I never look back to the food as being the best or most memorable meal. Ironically, although the aim of fine dining appears to be to create an ideal dining experience, the main character in a fine dining restaurant is not the diner but the head chef. The dining concept is the priority, eating comes second.
In my opinion, the main purpose of cooking is to make nice food that you can simply eat and enjoy. Fine dining overcomplicates and overthinks the cooking process only to create a product that does not necessarily serve – what I would consider to be – the purpose of food. What excites me about cooking and food is not just the complexity of flavours and aesthetics but also comfort, practicality, sharing food with friends and family, and feeling satisfied and full after eating. Which, in my experience, are aspects fine dining fails to provide.
As such, as much as cooking can and even should be considered an art, fine dining takes it to such a level where it loses the simple pleasure that cooking and eating can provide. For me, a small, carefully arranged plate topped with herb oil, foamy broth, fish eggs and edible flowers is not art. The quick noodles you make late at night, the meal you make for your friend every time they come around, the dinner you share with your family on big occasions, or the breakfast you treat yourself to on a relaxing day off – now that’s art!