Hello there.
The sheer amount of horseshit and chaos that is happening in the world these days is simply too much for my filters and screentime blocking apps and concerted efforts to consume less news (or at least to consume with intention, to not be attacked! by! breaking! news! headlines!).
I still struggle with whether a newsletter about food and, ostensibly, pleasure, makes sense in this climate. Like, would the hours I spend writing this dang thing — and the hours I spend thinking and eating and exploring — be more useful spent volunteering, or protesting, or canvassing, or some as-yet-defined-activity-that-actually-makes-a-difference? Maybe!
But reading Aminatou Sow’s newsletter recently reminded me, once again, that it is more than okay to find and honor moments of joy. Joy is hope is resilience, in case you too need the reminder.
She writes, to an advice-seeker, “I really do not know how to make this time feel good because I am not sure that it should feel good.” And, with a mic drop, “...experiencing joy is not the same thing as trying to feel good in an immoral time.”
So, with permission to lean into joy, let’s take our seats around the Tablesetting.
FAUST-TO-TABLE
In Paris, in March, I had two glorious little meals at, of all places, museum cafés. One, the world’s fluffiest salmon quiche — and perfectly dressed side salad — at the Palais de Tokyo. The other, a pristine slice of flan (à la fleur d’oranger) at the Musée Bourdelle’s Le Rhodia, enjoyed on the mezzanine terrace with a view of some pretty epic sculptures and reliefs.
This got me thinking.
Is the Venn diagram of art lovers and food lovers a circle?
Is seeking out a meal in museum cafés and restaurants more of a big city thing?
Is there something about a feast (for the belly) after a feast (for the eyes) that makes the holistic aesthetic experience that much more meaningful?
Wouldn’t this make a great topic for Tablesetting!?
Buckle up.
Maybe not all art lovers are food lovers, but I would venture that most food lovers are art lovers — squares, rectangles, etc. So, not a circle. Shapes!
There has to be some sort of correlation here though, otherwise why are some of the best restaurants in the world nestled in museums? Is it presumed disposable income? A certain kind of scene? (See also: Tatiana/Lincoln Center; Russian Tea Room/Carnegie Hall.)
Which leads me to the next thought — though admittedly my research is spotty here. If you’re reading this and you don’t live in New York, Paris, or London, please smash that comment button and let me know what the food at your local museum is like. Because I do know that Cleveland, Pittsburgh, Detroit, Minneapolis, Dallas, Houston, Portland and Palm Springs (to name just a few) have stellar museums and collections. I just haven’t eaten there.
Although I suppose we’d need to define what I mean by “big” city. Some of those are big ass cities — but only a few among the “cultural capitals” of the world. (This is a fun thread for the Redditors among us.)
Regarding the holistic experience, studies have shown that food is perceived to be tastier when consumed in aesthetically pleasing environments; beautiful plating also boosts taste perception, which might be something for a future newsletter. It would follow, then, that there is indeed something there about a feast for the eyes (museum) and for the stomach (museum café) being a nourishing experience for the brain and the belly.
And finally yes, this does make a fun topic for Tablesetting. So fun, in fact, that for my birthday last month I made a reservation at The Dining Room at the Met for the express purpose of writing about it right here, for you, right now.
Despite living in New York for eighteen (!) years, I had no idea about the existence of the place until I got it into my head to explore this theme. In fact, I had no idea about its iconic history until I sat down to actually write this newsletter!
Admittedly, the Met is not my preferred museum — it’s too crowded, and I’m more of a modern girlie. But still: when the elevators opened up, and the hallway beckoned with its amber glow, and the views came into focus, I felt like I was dreaming. I’m not even kidding. The Dining Room really is one of the Met’s best kept open secrets.
It was a Monday, at lunchtime; the crowd was trustees, retirees, and little old me(s). Yet the staff made me feel welcome, with a warm yet understated hospitality that felt just right.
After hours of wandering the iconic institution, getting lost in rooms filled from floor to ceiling with exquisite works of art, the meal felt like a natural extension of my aesthetic experience — exactly what I needed.
As per usual, I have come to the conclusion of a newsletter with even more questions and ideas for future probes and deeper dives. Could I go on and on and on about cultural capitals, about prestige and pretentiousness, about aesthetics, about how I wish museums (and good food) were more accessible to all? Yes. And then some.
But it’s Sunday, and it’s June, and I don’t want you to be in front of a screen anymore. I want you to be experiencing art! I want you to be experiencing joy.
Here’s what I’ve been craving and coveting lately…
…here’s my favorite NYC museum restaurant for a more casual experience…and here’s one I’m excited to visit this fall…
…here’s a fun little dive into food IN art, which maybe we should talk about one day soon as well…
…and here’s hoping that the aforementioned horseshit and chaos settles down a little but, since it shows no sign of doing so, here’s a beautiful little musical meditation to lower your blood pressure. Nothing to do with food! Just vibes, and joy.