2015: a year of food imitating art and pictures worth a thousand bites
Last year my travels took me to some interesting places and revelations. For instance, I’m smarter than the average AMC movie goer, because I don’t need a sign to tell me not to flush my 3-D glasses down the toilet. In Barcelona, I learned it’s OK to wear a bathing suit at the hotel pool, because at those prices, you’re never going to see any of those people again. And after visiting trade specialist Nicole DeSilvis in Colombia in 2012 and Guatemala in 2015, I vow to bring a trade mission to whatever country she goes to next.
Since I spent a lot of time in art museums and restaurants in 2015, it wasn’t hard to come up with the observation that food has gotten a lot prettier than when I was a kid. For example, No. 1. is an oversized painting by Jean-Michel Basquiat at the MoMA, but equally moving is No. 3, a potato, buttermilk, capers and trout roe dish served at Untitled, the restaurant at NYC’s Whitney Museum of American Art. One feeds your soul, the other your weight problem. And even more profound is that when you spill on the front of your shirt, the roe glistens like tiny little jewels—a look my childhood’s Hamburger Helper never could pull off.
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No. 2. Although not the same historical significance as solving the mystery of who posed for the Mona Lisa, thanks to a showing of Picasso’s sculptures at the MoMA in December, I uncovered the inspiration behind TV cartoon character Marge Simpson.
No. 4. In the fall, I took a pottery class and discovered for myself that obtaining good pot is a lot harder than one would think. I have no idea why Colorado and other states think legalizing it will make it easier on potters. I’m not blowing smoke here, it’s a hobby best left to the talented. (Shown here is my pinch pot with right leanings.)
No. 5. I once again became a granddogmother in 2015. My younger daughter Becca’s previous dog was acquired outside of wedlock, and although Becca did a good job as a single mom raising Roxy while attending college, Charlie, pictured here, is legitimately the heir to the family’s chewed up legacy. Makes it hard to wait for 2016’s lessons.