The challenge on this week’s episode of Bravo TV’s Top Chef took place at a dim sum restaurant in NYC’s Chinatown. Accordingly, it was basically a dim sum challenge. TC has grown to be a monster of a critically acclaimed show — food is the new black, the new denim. Foodies are the new cool kids – they are the it-crowd (and incidentally, like most of the popular kids, generally obnoxious in high dosages). Anyway, my point is – the contestants are not your run-of-the-mill Applebee’s cooks trying to make it big – they’re all already fairly big-name rockstars in their arena. They’re executive chefs of brand name restaurants, chefs who’ve worked for culinary superstars like Eric Ripert and Joel Rubuchon, chefs who are more or less fairly experienced players in the game. Surprisingly, or not-so-surprisingly, though, the challenge bombed spectacularly. The food came out at a snail’s pace, and when it did, huge, spotlighted portions were left on the already small plates, leaving the Chinese patrons hungry. Even the best dishes received a fairly lukewarm applause from the judges, compared to the winning dishes in other challenges in other episodes.
The challenge left both the diners and judges hungry, both figuratively and literally speaking.
I myself finished viewing the episode with a sort of mixed, lackluster attitude. Never mind being angry over contestant Marcel’s ignorant remarks about Chinatown being reminiscent of being in China where everyone speaks Chinese (true, perhaps) and where you can get a cheap massage (fuck you, Marcel – and grow the hell up), I was more smug and pleased on some level. Pleased, because authentic Chinese food has yet to really garner any focus or attention in the American food scene. While cuisines of Japan and the general Southeast Asian countries are being more bastardized than ever, they are at least being more recognized and being drawn inspiration from. If there’s any semblance of Chinese cuisine being incorporated into the ever-so-trendy “fusion” or “New American” dishes in the fine dining world . . . I’m not really seeing it as much as I am seeing dishes that feature crudo/sashimi or curry flavors, for example.
The modern foodie world and the world of Chinese food seem to have completely separated themselves from each other, basically. Each living in blissful, mutually exclusive ignorance. Each are fairly introverted power players who are more or less aware that the other exist, but neither seem to have any desire to make any contact, it seems. Even if a tragic attempt or blasphemous rendition – I’d like to see a sweet spot secured for the merging of these two worlds, Venn diagram style and all that.
So, basically, regarding the episode: a general nod toward a sector of Chinese cuisine, dim sum, is appreciated. Simply put — yay for that.
In that same vein of smugness on my part, I not only attribute the general fail-factor of the challenge to the fact that the chefs just had no idea how to master authenticity or a dish in general when it came to dim sum because of their lack of exposure to actual, down-and-dirty, legitimate dim sum, but also because they underestimated the skill-set and intricacies that are actually incorporated into something that seems so facially simple when you look at it. Dim sum, or “Asian tapas” as most of the contestants like to lovingly dub this type of meal, look like small bites, hor d’oeuvres – so just make something remotely Asian, make them in small pieces and add a drizzle/dash/sprinkling of more Asia (sesame seeds, Hoisin or Sriracha sauce, a lot of soy sauce, wrap it in a dumpling/wonton wrapper) and that’s it.
Not quite. And, far be it for me to school all these world-renowned chefs who excel pretty well in their own cuisines, but I do recognize that food preparation and execution is an art, craft, and skill that is precious and comes from centuries of training. Dim sum itself is not any exception. China is a packed, densely populated country with a deep history that stretches for centuries and centuries older than the US. When you strip away all the details, the very basic skeleton provides with you with this much: to efficiently and deliciously feed that many people per room, per household, per square mile, per town – it took more than just standard food-smarts. It took the experience, the trial and error, adapting time and time again, and the many generations of knowledge to perfect the sacred (and tasty) tradition of dim sum. These Top Chef contestants have undoubtedly have their own respective/comparable experience in feeding a whole room full of hungry food critics and bourgie, demanding diners on a high-impact, stressful Saturday night in whatever urban metropolitan area they hale from. But apparently that experience doesn’t quite measure up in preparing some “tapas” for all these simple, Chinese diners (and masseuses, eh?)
So I do appreciate the episode for bringing dim sum/Chinese-cooking methods to the mainstream foodie crowd and giving it just a little more exposure. I’m not knocking on anybody intentionally (except Marcel. Sorry, I really just don’t like that fool), I’m just hoping that the recognition doesn’t go ignored. Chicken feet should be deep fried because only hot oil can separate the skin from the bone, otherwise you’re left with an unpleasant plate of rubbery looking gnarly chicken parts that you have to gnaw like a caveman. Dumpling skins are not just one in the same in that some need to be boiled so that they retain more moisture in the process, whereas others can be steamed because they are meant to be more al dente and chewy while eating. Also, placing sticky rice on a banana leaf is not just for decorative or practical purposes, but the flavor actually seeps through and cooks into the rice, adding a subtle and a delicate aroma.
And, for the love of all that is Asian and delicious — soy sauce does NOT solve all your problems, people.
oh betty. 