用荨麻做饭，就像用内脏做饭一样，总是让我想起一幅葬礼的画。不是任何一幅葬礼的画而是这幅葬礼的画，古斯塔夫·库尔贝的联合国侦查àornans（在ornans埋葬）．这是一个专横的绘画，帆布上的油，十到二十两英尺。这是一个巨大的巨型葬礼灰色和灰色的灰色（他的叔叔事实），它是美妙的丑陋。但是，在1850年的某一套回来，它是，相反，令人反感，冒昧。甚至粗鲁。因为你看，帆布上的十二次石油是一个为天鹅绒叙述，镀金的马而保留的空间。国王。历史。蓝调和红色。贵族。 Not actual peasants at an actual funeral. Low subjects on a grand scale, “realism”. It was a fundamental shift in what was perceived as a worthwhile subject and a precursor to modernist painting. While the moderns would depart from the realists stylistically, I think the concept, the fascination with low subjects, with real life, as the content of high art is still with us, this legacy of realism. It was revolutionary at the time. There is no better formulation of it, in my estimation, than Baudelaire’s in one of my favorite essays,de l'héroïsmede la vie Moderne（关于现代生活的英雄主义）：
Nettles and stomach lining are, in my estimation, the criminals and kept women of the culinary world, the browns and grays of Courbet, and I think this, the zeitgeist of the 1840’s, is still alive and well when we see these ingredients on fine dining menus, stinging nettles at the French Laundry and organ meat at 11 Madison Park. But this doesn’t surprise us at all, some of us even yawn and call it fashion. The elevation of low subjects on a grand scale is common place now, and that’s always the pyrrhic victory of any cultural revolution, it always seems to jump the shark. But it wasn’t always so, and still, it reminds me of that painting of a funeral, of Baudelaire’s criminals and kept women, of that pageant that is the ugly, the mundane, the quotidian, the weeds, the guts. And of how grateful I am that I live in a time when there’s an audience for the beauty in all of it. Life is far more interesting with weeds & guts, and we’re a lot better off learning to love them because they certainly aren’t going anywhere.
I’ll offer, at best, a dispassionate apology for the art history lesson, both if it bored you or if you are fresher than me & found it awfully impoverished, but in another life modernism was a love of mine, and I ate, slept, and breathed Baudelaire along with my gin. It’s still dear to me, and I think about it often, even if I do spend more time thinking about pie crusts than the philosophical and socio-cultural implications of pigments. I don’t, however, apologize if you find my drawing parallels between nettle cakes and art history pretentious. Because that’s just a very boring way of looking at it!
所以我要向库尔贝致敬Un entertainment à Ornans &波德莱尔的论现代生活中的英雄主义。这是一个低于鸡蛋的高低，鸡蛋宿醉的致敬。它具有比我的拇指更厚的紫色芦笋，芦笋如此珍贵，我实际上有一个关于没有到达市场的噩梦，上周没有上网让我的爪子。而且，我最宝贵的农产品，沿着毛茸茸，刺痛死亡的荨麻。古代奎奴亚藜。辉煌的鸡蛋。神奇蛋黄酱。黑暗和辣绿色。非常咸的南方腌火腿。还有一些我最喜欢的芥菜彩色的pak choi花，因为我将永远和永远在任何机会吃花。它让我感到神话或其他东西。 But all of that aside, this is really just me using what is there, what I have. Real food & real light. And that’s the point.