Food for the masses...

I don't eat at fancy high dollar restaurants all that often.  It's not that I don't appreciate the food or the ambience of such places. It's just that sometimes I feel a bit uncomfortable.  Will my attire pass as acceptable to the fashion police hostess greeting me at the front?  Will I commit some major faux pas by ordering a Cabernet when everyone knows Pinot Noir would have paired so much better with the dish I'm eating?  Is it OK to come if I don't have a reservation or will they sneer at me for not knowing that seats are reserved a good three months in advance?  Do I really have to drive up in my beat up old Honda and use the valet that's accustomed to parking Bentleys, and if so, what is an acceptable tip?

I was thinking about this as I was reading this article in a GQ from a couple of months back that was still lying on my floor about Momofuku, a small chain of restaurants in New York City run by David Chang, a young culinary artist who's making headlines as one of the most innovative chefs in the United States strictly for the creativeness and quality of his food:

Each ungarnished, undecorated plate holds just a few items, none carefully arranged. The food seems individualistic, yet it’s created by committee—Chang and his inner circle of chefs. It’s a mix of Asian ingredients, fastidious preparations, condiments shaken from jars, and sauces poured from bottles. Other chefs might attempt to interpret their food lyrically, adding to the aura, but not Chang: “It’s American food, man. That’s all there is to explain.”

And as far as all those pretensions I worry about when visiting some highly-hyped restaurant such as his?

His clientele consists mostly of regulars at Noodle Bar, adventurers at Ssäm Bar. Some might not know what they are eating, but Chang knows exactly whom he wants in the seats. “I want to cook for real people who want to eat,” he says. “When I worked at Café Boulud, I hated making food for East Siders. I hate their air of superiority. I hate investment bankers. I don’t want Momofuku Ko to come off as elitist or snobbish. I don’t want shithead bankers and the friends of dickhead traders who spend thousands.” One more thing: “My partner gets to kick me in the balls if he catches me wearing those reflective silvered sun- glasses that asshole Europeans wear indoors. I can do the same to him.”

And if you're a vegetarian, don't bother:

Worth noting is that an entire category of diners who might easily have become devotees have been deliberately excluded. Momofukus are houses of pork, an ingredient in about 60 percent of the dishes, and the dinner menu at Ssäm Bar reads, “We do not serve vegetarian-friendly items.” Just to rub a little suet in the wound, Chang says, “Vegetarians are a pain in the ass as customers. It’s always ‘I want this’ or ‘I don’t want that.’ Jesus Christ, go cook at home.

You gotta love this guy's attitude.  Yup, whenever I actually do make it to New York City for a visit, I'm heading straight to Momofuku.