Art
Feast
offers a lot and leaves us wanting. Which can be good and bad.
The artist Ada Medina, who was sitting at my table for Art
Feast
's Sunday brunch, called the smoked beef hash "nervy." Which, if this meant "daring," was quite a compliment coming from an artist labeled "on the edge," one of four groupings of artists who brunched with art (and food) aficionados over the weekend as a $50-a-head component of
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the annual benefit for art supplies and education in the schools. Medina and I were at Fuego restaurant at La Posada where we discovered everyone,
it seems, is a critic. Because everyone has expectations. So here we were, as a group, trying to figure out what was not quite outstanding about the smoked beef hash, cracked corn and Russet potatoes, served with shirred egg atop and garnished with roasted red bell pepper sauce. And we decided, at least at my end of the table, that it just didn't live up to its presentation. Or long name. Or the rest of the dishes which had preceded it, which were all remarkably good.
The ripe strawberries with Devonshire cream were predictably divine. The melon coupe and aged ham dribbled with port wine was fantastic, thanks particularly to the surprise of the port. What was really special, and unexpected, was the stewed rhubarb which was not at all scary like it sounds but wonderfully sweet and perfectly tart.
Fine art and fine food share an expectation of beauty, and the responsibility of delivering something more; an element of daring originality is highly desirable, though most palettes
prefer that basic beauty (or flavor) not be compromised. And it is particularly difficult to make something that is both nervy and wonderful to eat.
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And once you've been shocked and pleased with stewed rhubarb, it's tough to be less than piqued by beef hash.
Many of the dishes and tidbits served at various galleries during Art
Feast
's opening Friday night Edible Art Tour were plenty daring. There was a wasabi blini with seared scallop and hoisin-tahini sauce from Santacafé that was truly sublime to eat. Sugart's amaretto red chili jalapeño chocolate was on the same level. O'Keeffe Café's crispy wonton topped with ahi tuna, seaweed salad and chipotle aioli was, however, not beautiful to my taste buds, nor was Fuego's foie gras, amaretto and almond twinkie. But, as with looking at art, the best part of the experience was the trying.
Which brings me back to expectation. Maybe expectation of something more is what made the small plastic cups of sauvignon blanc and sparkling wine at Tadu-provided by Geronimo-seem so, well, stingy. And I never anticipated loving zampone-pig's foot stuffed with paté-but Il Piatto served one on Friday night that I'm still thinking about today.
