by Fat Lady Singing » Sun May 14, 2006 11:21 am
As I read “Xtreme Cuisine,” I just kept asking myself, “is this real?” If it is, it is certainly one of the most horrifying and well-documented pieces of evidence to support a variety of theories about how the haut monde operate. So now, even though it has been many years, I’m going to step back into English-major mode and try to figure this one out. <br><br>What clues can we glean from the article?<br><br>As Albion pointed out, the “Yammi” quotes sound like a very stereotypical Asian accent (I kept hearing “King of the Hill” character Khan’s voice as I read the quotes). I’m not sure if the accent, in and of itself, is damning. Perhaps some Asian people do speak this way, or perhaps Yammi speaks this way on purpose, perhaps motivated by a flair for the theatrical and wishing to challenge the stereotypes by throwing it Anglo faces (perhaps along the lines of Margaret Cho’s routines about her mother). Anyway, the accent, for me, doesn’t support--at the moment--the case for satire or for straight journalism.<br><br>Next, have a look at the photos. They look quite staged to me, especially the one where Yammi is draped across a Bighorn Sheep, the one where he’s cutting down the saguaro cactus, and the penguin cooking (what’s with the carefully arranged fruit and vegetable bed, complete with a pineapple, on the left? I wish I could see these photos larger, but for me the photos support the case for satire.<br><br>What about “the chef’s indiscretion,” which Jeff says he has a harder time believing than “the mayor’s cannibalism”? Yammi names many, many names, not the least of whom are a Senator, sports stars, movie stars, police, governmental representatives...he’s got loose lips, to be sure. Even author Lemons wonders about it. He says:<br><br>“He’s so foolhardy and headstrong, I wonder how long it will be before Yamamoto finally becomes a target for law enforcement.... Yamamoto says he keeps his and his girlfriend Alexis’ passports current, and they both have packed bags and one-way tickets to Zurich, where they could rent a chalet and have access to Yamamoto’s Swiss bank account. He brags of a clandestine network of informants here who will tip him off should the law come gunning for him.<br><br>But why did he talk to me for this story? Why give the authorities a heads-up in print, which is what this article will inevitably do? Certainly, what property he holds locally is under fake names, and a phony shell corporation with an offshore mailbox serves as his corporate address. But it’s not exactly as if Arizona is overloaded with Asian males, and his face will be published on thousands of New Times covers. There are two answers (besides, of course, his lust for recognition). The first is that Yamamoto may already be planning to set up shop in Europe, where regulations are more lax. And the second is that Yamamoto and I already have a history, having met in Los Angeles, close to five years ago.”<br><br>So he tackles that question head on in a seemingly straightforward manner. He even contacts certain folks for verification, and most don’t seem to answer him, except Alice Cooper, who I could see as being in on the joke or as being one of Yammi’s patrons. <br><br>Marykmusic implies that the haut monde of Phoenix, the “Phoenix Forty,” are essentially untouchable, so perhaps Yammi has nothing to fear anyway. Or perhaps he’s revealing all the way the hero does in certain old-fashioned movies, by going to the press and hoping that the publicity will protect him. You know the kind of movie--“Before you kill me, you should know that I’ve sent copies to every major newspaper in America, saying that if I should be killed, it will have been at your hands.” [As if that tactic would work in real life--I do believe we’ve seen evidence to the contrary time and again...but I digress.]<br><br>So Yammi’s indiscretion isn’t making me lean one way or the other for satire or straight journalism. There are points on both sides.<br><br>Let’s turn now to the author’s words. I found it particularly interesting that he wrote his Los Angeles column in character: it “was written through the guise of my alter ego, a Sydney Greenstreet-like character not too far removed from the person I actually am.” Perhaps his Phoenix column is written similarly in the guise of a character--one who easily overcomes the Western taboo of eating dog to say, “can’t think of a lovelier way to celebrate the Chinese Year of the Dog.”<br><br>Then there’s his description of eating the owl: “I devour half my owl in one bite, and find it crunchy and succulent, brown juice covering my fingers and running down one side of my mouth. The heart, liver and other innards pop with an explosion of warm saltiness as I chew into them. ... I feel a twinge of guilt, knowing the rarity of this especially rara avis, but I admit that there’s the flush and tingle that accompanies doing anything so very, very wrong.” The description is so vivid, and so disgusting, that I believe we’re meant to be repulsed.<br><br>Later, he further admits the most heinous of acts: “How could I resist?...I sample a bit of each [kinds of human flesh], and I must admit that Yamamoto is correct. Mexican liver is exquisite, a thousand times tastier than its bovine counterpart. The leg muscle was a little chewy, sort of like gnawing on a fried chicken gizzard, but not bad.” <br><br>For a guy who happily chomps down on human flesh obtained through poor people selling their “extra” bits, it seems odd that he’d balk at other varieties, but balk he does. He says, “I’m a bit grossed out by Yamamoto’s admission that he has an unsavory agreement with some local mortuaries to harvest kidneys and other internal organs for him from children and teenagers who have died in car accidents. But Yamamoto’s ultimate desire to prepare the most unthinkable of dinners is what really sends shivers down my spine.”<br><br>So is it Lemons (a rather suspect nom de plume for a food critic) or his “character” who is so deplorable as to eat dog, endangered birds, and the ne plus ultra of taboos, human flesh? Is Lemons or “Lemons” such a cuisine libertine, but one who simply <b>must</b> draw the line <b>some</b>where? I’m leaning toward satire, or else a completely self-deluded author.<br><br>The idea for Le Menu is outrageous--and nothing new, of course; the article itself points to the film “The Freshman” as the impetus for Le Menu, and the most obvious literary antecedent for the article is Swift’s “A Modest Proposal.”<br><br>The difference between this article and Swift, though, is that Swift takes an outrageous concept and makes it sound perfectly reasonable (which should provoke outrage in the reader). It is predicated on something that is clearly not reality. It is furthermore meant to make readers question their assumptions about class and capitalism--that’s what makes it a satire rather than a spoof.<br><br>Yet “Xtreme Cuisine” doesn’t really attempt to make the outrageous concept sound perfectly reasonable. Several times throughout the article, Lemons or “Lemons” expresses his distaste and shock for Yammi’s menu and methods. And if it’s a satire, at what is it pointed? Rich folks who like weird food? Ted Nugent-style hunting? Restaurants serving buffalo, elk, and exotic meats? As I think Jeff pointed out, it’s an awfully long and detailed article for satire, and I’d add for satire aimed at such easy pickin’s.<br><br>I still don’t have a firm conclusion. But, I do know something else, which is only tangentialy related: there’s a new trend in restaurants, sort of Xtreme Dining Experiences, I guess you could call it. I’ve read about it in The Village Voice and other places. I wish I could remember details, but essentially the chef presents a menu that challenges diners’ concepts of “the meal” or presents a menu in an environment that challenges the diners’ concepts of “the restaurant.”<br><br>For instance, there’s Moto in Chicago (from epicurious.com): “ It’s hard to ignore Moto, if only because chef Homaro Cantu has become the poster child of the mad-scientist conceptual-cooking fad in America. In fact, Cantu spent a year researching his Moto menu in a test kitchen cum chemistry lab before opening the surprisingly small, mod dining room. The result is what he calls postmodernist interactive cuisine. Do you really want dinner to talk back? Some of Cantu’s thinking-outside-the-oven dishes are worth all the brainy experimentation, especially a butter-poached lobster paired with carbonated orange. Others, like the signature tuna maki rolled up in edible paper printed with a pinup of the maki itself, literally work better on paper. Still, you’ll never be bored.”<br><br>Alinea, also in Chicago, is one of these extremely high-concept restaurants. In New York, there’s PoMo’s of NoHo, where “chefs serve up a sensuous deconstruction” of meals and invite diners to use the “JohnCage” computer to randomly choose dishes and their order. <br><br>Then there’s the whole underground restaurant trend; read about it here: <!--EZCODE AUTOLINK START--><a href="http://tinyurl.com/k4cz4">tinyurl.com/k4cz4</a><!--EZCODE AUTOLINK END--> or here: <!--EZCODE AUTOLINK START--><a href="http://tinyurl.com/dbv8c">tinyurl.com/dbv8c</a><!--EZCODE AUTOLINK END--><br><br>Whilst googling about for this post, I found an interesting academic paper called, “Cannibalism and the Chinese Body Politic: Hermeneutics and Violence in Cross-Cultural Perception” by Carlos Rojas, at <!--EZCODE AUTOLINK START--><a href="http://tinyurl.com/nnx57.">tinyurl.com/nnx57.</a><!--EZCODE AUTOLINK END--> Here’s an interesting quote, about widespread internet rumors of a trendy Taiwanese restaurant that serves human flesh. It seems a photo of a man eating a human fetus accompanied most of the stories, and it is a real photo. <br><br>“Specifically, the photos were taken as part of a performance entitled ”Eating People“ (or ”Man-Eater“) [shiren] performed on 17 October 2000 in Shanghai by the 30-year-old avant-garde performance artist Zhu Yu (see Figure 1). ”<br><br>How does this relate to our article in question? I’m not entirely sure.<br><br>I’m feeling that Yammi is an avant-garde performance artist and underground restaurant chef. I’m not sure whether Lemons knows this or is a partner in it. I’m thinking that perhaps Le Menu fare isn’t unethical, immoral, or illegal in any way, but his calling what’s on the plate “penguin” or “saguaro cactus” or “Mexican” is meant to create the illusion of such fare.<br><br>All in all, the article treads a very thin line. If it’s true and readers say, “oh my God this is horrible!” and demand an accounting, Lemons can always say, “come on, you had to know it was a joke! It’s preposterous! Don’t be stupid!” If it is meant to be satire, I think it’s not as skillful a satire as he’d like me to think it is. But he’s covered, either way.<br><br>Anyone have any further thoughts on this article? <p></p><i></i>
