Eat dirt and die, but without your phone to record it

I have had the excellent good fortune to have consumed many wonderful meals in my life, and many of those many wonderful meals were consumed in wonderful, often pricey, sometimes foodie, and occasionally bordering on precious, restaurants.

But the older I get, the more likely I am to opt for a restaurant where I can get, say, roast chicken and garlic mashed potatoes. Hold the infusion. Hold the froth. Hold the nasturtium. Hold the odd pairings Hold the minimalist portions.

Not that I’ve lost all sense of adventure, but mostly I’d prefer that the plate that gets plunked down lands with a satisfying plunk. That I recognize the food. That it’s substantial enough that I can lustily dig my fork in – and take something home in a doggy bag to enojy the next night.

So I was just as happy that an upcoming restaurant, Conversation, will be opening up in another month or so in Seattle, not in Boston.

Some of what Conversation has to offer is regular old foodie:

…a foie gras dish with a counterintuitive texture: “light, airy, cold.” The various influences will come together in dishes like lamb en croute with spring peas, tsukemono pickles, and crispy prosciutto—a blend of French (lamb en croute), Japanese (tsukemono), and modernist techniques (the peas will come in various textures, including freeze-dried). (Source: Seattle Met, via – I think – my friend John W)

Hey, it’s not roast chicken and garlic mashed, but this stuff doesn’t sound all that weird. (Okay, light and airy foie gras does sound sort of weird.) And I mostly feel about modernist food techniques the way I feel about modernist writing techniques. Ah, not now thanks. Maybe later. (Likely never.)

But Conversation will also feature:

…“soils” (edible dirt made from foodstuffs.

Having googled “edible dirt” and “edible soil”, I now realize that this stuff has been around for a while. The recipes run the gamut from the decidedly pedestrian non-foodie (because any recipe with Cool Whip and Oreos as ingredients ain’t never going to pass for foodie) to ultra foodie-plus (leeks and black barley powder…).

But while a mashup of Oreos and Cool Whip doesn’t sound half-bad, why would you want to puree up a bunch of olives, mushrooms, and whatever “foodstuffs” you have in mind so that it’s the consistency of soil. Isn’t part of the fun of eating the actual real-life consistency of food? Why turn it into glorified baby food, or some nutritional glop created for the old, infirm, and toothless. Okay, when I’m old, infirm, and toothless, I’ll likely be begging for edible soils. But for now, it sounds way too much like soylent green. And as we’ve all known since 1973, “soylent green is people.”

Remember man that thou art dust and all that, but I’d just as soon take a hard pass.

On the other hand, Conversation will feature a non-foodstuff that’s a little more conversation a little less edible soil. Their concept is creating a digital-free zone.

In this digital era where text messaging and screen swiping threaten the allure of face-to-face quality time, Conversation intends to create an environment where human connection takes priority.”

The owners, including head chef Derek Simcik are:

…also playing with the idea of having someone come around and gather people’s phones and lock them away for the duration of dinner. “I guess you could call it a tableside phone valet,” says Simcik”

Well, I’m all in favor of conversation. It’s something that I enjoy and – get this – actually excel at. Sure, I’ve been known to whip out my phone in a restaurant, mainly when a question comes up in conversation that calls for immediate information. Say you’re talking about the Mickey Mouse Club and someone needs to know whether Annette Funicello is still alive. (Answer: No. She d)ied in 2013.) Or someone else wants to know which team the Red Sox beat in the World Series in 2007. (How soon we forget: it was the Colorado Rockies.) On occasion, it’s something a bit brainier. Like the difference between synecdoche and metonymy. (Hey, you’ve got a phone. Look it up for yourself. But for metonymy, think “container for the thing contained.”)

But “information, please” at the table is only mildly annoying, especially given that most of the diners are craving the info as much as the person doing the looking up is.

But sending texts, checking emails, or – even worse – holding a conversation with someone who’s not there. JUST SAY NO. Unless it’s something really important – your house just got struck by lightning or your daughter’s baby came early – why is the person who’s not there more important than the company who’s present?

Locking the phones away is a bit contrived, but Conversation may be on to something. Although I know if I were there, and saw “soils” on the menu, I would be sorely tempted to surreptitiously snap a quick pic and text it off to someone who would appreciate it. A fellow roast chicken with mashed non-foodie…OMG. FFS. Get a load of this!