Spitball Army

David Brooks wrote a thoughtful column in The New York Times today.  In it, he attempts to contrast institutionalized versus individualized thinking, and how it affects our lives.  It’s not a piece providing answers, instead providing quite a bit of food for thought.

A few years ago, a faculty committee at Harvard produced a report on the purpose of education. “The aim of a liberal education” the report declared, “is to unsettle presumptions, to defamiliarize the familiar, to reveal what is going on beneath and behind appearances, to disorient young people and to help them to find ways to reorient themselves.”

The report implied an entire way of living. Individuals should learn to think for themselves. They should be skeptical of pre-existing arrangements. They should break free from the way they were raised, examine life from the outside and discover their own values.

This approach is deeply consistent with the individualism of modern culture, with its emphasis on personal inquiry, personal self-discovery and personal happiness. But there is another, older way of living, and it was discussed in a neglected book that came out last summer called “On Thinking Institutionally” by the political scientist Hugh Heclo.

In this way of living, to borrow an old phrase, we are not defined by what we ask of life. We are defined by what life asks of us. As we go through life, we travel through institutions — first family and school, then the institutions of a profession or a craft.

Each of these institutions comes with certain rules and obligations that tell us how to do what we’re supposed to do. Journalism imposes habits that help reporters keep a mental distance from those they cover. Scientists have obligations to the community of researchers. In the process of absorbing the rules of the institutions we inhabit, we become who we are.

Read the full article here.

I am addicted to Top Chef!

There, I’ve said it.  Not only am I hooked on watching this cooking competition (slash) reality show, but I have even hooked a handful of my friends on the Bravo TV program (or “semi-hooked,” if that is defined as them now watching the show on a regular basis and being able to discuss the personalities of the contestants and the curious and enticing concoctions whipped up each week).

Here are some of the many lessons I’ve learned from watching Top Chef:

• Never send the food out without tasting it first!
• Fresh ingredients rock! (Alternately, canned ingredients suck!)
• High altitude wreaks havoc on cooking temperatures and times!
• Keep it simple!
• Don’t put liquid on the plate!
• “It’s called Top Chef, not Top Scallop!”  (Uttered by Fabio, a current contestant.)

Head judge Chef Tom Collicchio even made the news during Inauguration Week, coming to the rescue of food author Joan Nathan.  While attending a charity benefit at Nathan’s DC home, Chef Tom noticed the hostess choking (on a Persian chicken kabob, no less) and saved the day by utilizing the Heimlich manuever on her.  The thought may have passed through his mind, at that moment, that Dr. Heimlich’s trusty maneuver might have come in just as handy a time or two on Top Chef…

And as enjoyable as watching Top Chef is, there are always one or two painful elements.  This season, the most uncomfortable moments come while watching contestant Stefan Richter, possibly the most arrogant and conniving entrant in five seasons of the show.  All of the other chefs seem to dislike Stefan (with the possible exception of Fabio, who appears more capable of tolerating him than the others), who is notoriously hard to work with by virtue of his pigheadedness and, invariably, is always the last person chosen when the contestants split into teams (it’s hard to imagine that this bothers Stefan, who likely became used to being the last one chosen for the soccer game on the grade school playground).  And not that there is anything wrong with having ideas, but the editors of the show made it seem that Stefan had craftily planned his strategy for last week’s “restaurant wars” episode.  As soon as he was chosen for a team (last, of course), he firmly announced his desire to prepare the dessert, the menu for which he had undoubtedly concocted well in advance of the challenge (thus, eliminating the spur-of-the-moment creativity which is one of the show’s delights).  This preparation won him the challenge.  And, while there is no arguing the ugliness of Stefan’s personality traits, there can be no debate against the extremely tempting desserts that he prepared for the Sunset Lounge menu.

Stefan’s dessert service ended with a surprise for each diner: a mango lollipop.  I dare your mouth not to water when you read this incredibly simple recipe, taken (and slightly revised) from Bravo TV’s Top Chef website.

Stefan Richter’s Mango Lollipops
Prep Time: About half an hour
Serves: 5-6

Ingredients:
10 mango cubes, about half an inch on all sides
2 oz. melted chocolate
1 tbsp. mint oil
10 mint leaves
10 skewers

Directions:
1.  Melt chocolate, add mint oil.
2.  Dip mango cube half way in chocolate.
3.  Serve on skewer.

Maureen Dowd, writing about yesterday’s Presidential inauguration in today’s New York Times:

It was the Instant the Earth Stood Still.

Not since Klaatu landed in a flying saucer on the Ellipse has Washington been so mesmerized by an object whirring through the sky.

But this one was departing, not arriving.

As W. ceased to be president, he flew off over the Capitol and across the Mall en route to Andrews Air Force Base, and then back to Texas.

I’ve seen many presidents come and go, but I’ve never watched a tableau like the one Tuesday, when four million eyes turned heavenward, following the helicopter’s path out of town. Everyone, it seemed, was waving goodbye, with one or two hands, a wave that moved westward down the Mall toward the Lincoln Memorial, and keeping their eyes fixed unwaveringly on that green bird.

They wanted to make absolutely, positively certain that W. was gone. It was like a physical burden being lifted, like a sigh went up of “Thank God. Has Cheney’s wheelchair left the building, too?”

The crowd was exuberant that George Bush was now an ex-president, and 43 himself was jovial “the way he always is,” according to his last press secretary, Dana Perino.

It was like a catharsis in Greek drama, with the antagonist plucked out of the scene into the sky, and the protagonist dropping into the scene to magically fix all the problems. Except Barack Obama’s somber mien and restrained oratory conveyed that he’s no divinity and there will be no easy resolution to this plot.

Read the full column here.