Had lunch recently with another LTHer, and as we waited for our food I suggested that sometimes "good" and "authentic" get confused in discussions, because I felt something could be absolutely authentic without being very good.
In the context of the meal, I had narrowed the definition of authentic to something that reproduces an experience that at least a few people at a specific time and place could identify as being what they expect. I saw how happy the Asian diners in the establishment were -- and are every time I visit -- and how they stand in line to wait for a table to get generally pretty good but not outstanding food. And it occurred to me that "authentic" has to do more with memories than with quality. Most people grow up eating okay food, rather than amazing. The steaming bowls of noodles surrounding me would, in fact, be more authentic to the diners than something that tasted much better to someone else.
It reminded me of when I was in Charleston, SC. I hunted down local specialties at all the most highly recommended places. Lots of serious "wow" moments. Then I headed out to the islands, to sample Gullah food as prepared by the people for whom it is the traditional cuisine. It was clear from the working folks crowding the places I stopped that this was where the locals ate. It was pretty good -- but it wasn't as good as what I had in town. So I think it is important to remember that "authentic" doesn't, even within a sufficiently narrow definition, necessarily mean "best of class." I have no doubt that the folks enjoying the Gullah food-- or the folks slurping the noodles in that Asian restaurant -- were having an authentic experience. Even in my neighborhood growing up, no two moms made tuna salad the same. (And I might go so far as to say that really outstanding food will almost never be authentic, if we speak of it as what one grew up with.)
Another thing I think affects our concept of authenticity is expectations -- both cultural and what we've learned to like. This is slightly different from memory, because we’re judging things based on what we think, rather than on long years and cherished experience.
The example that came to mind during the original conversation was a dinner I had about a decade ago in France. I was traveling with a friend who is the director of the Napoleonic Alliance. He had arranged a dinner at Valençay, in Tallyrand’s grand dining room, that reproduced a formal dinner once served by Antonin Careme. It was astonishing – cream of truffle soup with half a lobster tail, fois gras terrine with fig conserves, venison – and so on. Just amazing ingredients and absolutely true to the original recipes. But it was hard to not be a tiny bit disappointed by the taste, simply because we’ve gotten so accustomed to everyone at the high end of the culinary realm adding a little something extra to everything we eat – a dash of some imported spice, some fruit from the far side of the world, some influence or technique from a different culture. I enjoyed it tremendously, but being truly authentic actually made it harder for the food to meet the expectations of my palate.
Toss in world travels where I’ve seen all sorts of things added to dishes that fit well within the culture but would be rejected as not authentic if you tried to sell them in Chicago, and I think that what is truly the most authentic thing in the world is never rejecting a new food. Use anything that is available. Fusion cuisine is the history of the world. I think Mongolia is the only place I’ve had a meal unaffected by outside influences – just meat and heat.
All that said, I understand what, at heart, people mean by saying “authentic” – they are trying to connect with that experience of the people who grew up with the food – that sense of being “inside” the culture. I love doing that, too – I just realize that often that won’t introduce me to the culture’s best food.
Which actually reminds me of a quote from Adrian Miller’s book
Soul Food: Miller was quoting Chef Louis Szathmary, who said that “All immigrants from all parts of the world arriving in the United States started to replace their everyday national dishes with their homeland’s special holiday and festival dishes and Sunday meals.” Szathmary went on to say that he felt that the special dishes helped them remember the most pleasant aspects of the “old country.” Plus special things like meat were much cheaper in the U.S. So there is a degree to which even the people who come here and cook the food from back home are actually not living authentically.
And yet, I will still search for that which connects with the cultures and memories of others – that search for the “authentic.” And I’ll enjoy it all.