Similarities between politics, finance and foodservice
by Irena Chalmers
The current mind-set of this country has reminded me of a social experiment I once heard about: A bright student gets to class, and he finds everyone working on a problem of identifying parallel lines. The teacher points to two of the lines and asks if they match. The student can see that the lines clearly don’t, but all his classmates say they do.
The student sticks to his guns for a while and disagrees with the rest of the class. But as his classmates continue to contend that the lines are matching, he begins to doubt himself. The student eventually accepts the popular opinion—because he doesn’t want to be the odd man out.
Remembering this story led me to thinking about the parallel universes occupied by the current meltdown in the financial markets, the state of confusion and misunderstandings on the political scene and the everyday challenges faced by the high-end restaurant business. What some interpret as a smear, others relish as a schmear. Or, to coin a phrase, “One man’s bagel is another man’s doughnut with rigor mortis.”
A money manager fears speculative bubbles; chefs Heston Blumenthal and Grant Achatz embrace them. Some can be persuaded to change their mind when those around them have already made up theirs. The Feds and the unfed inhabit different constituencies.
We speak in parallel lines when we talk about “the market” and “stocks.” When financial folks think of markets, they think of money markets; foodies think of farmers’ markets. When moneymen think of stocks, they think of IPOs and investments; food people think about chicken or beef or veal stocks that improve when they are reduced.
Financial people talk about rollovers. We talk about turnovers. Money managers speak of gilt-edged securities. Pastry chefs decorate with gold leaf. Politicians talk about the party. We talk about the banquet. When a politician claims grimly, “Everything is on the table,” she doesn’t mean the same thing as the chef who happily offers us all we can eat.
There are simmering issues, watched pots and pots that boil over. There are pots that call the kettle black and chickens that come home to roost, sometimes leaving egg on the face.
In our parallel universes, there are hot potatoes, small potatoes, top bananas and big enchiladas—and many forks in many roads.
Politicians speak of the “undecideds,” though they don’t know who they are. Waitstaff recognize undecideds in an instant because they ask strange questions. “Is the fish fresh?” “Can I have three appetizers?” “Can we share the calamari?” “Can I have sauce on the side?”
Politicians and food folk try to pack the house with as many seats as possible, but turning the tables means one thing to one group and an entirely different thing to the other.
The bankers played games of chicken before their goose was cooked. Politicians speak with forked tongues, or tongue-in-cheek. Politicians proclaim all issues are local. Restaurateurs promise all products are local. Consumers declare they are green, but not naïve. Green backs are fast-disappearing. Silver-dollar pancakes are now a dime a dozen.
The businesses of finance, politics and restaurants do have at least one thing in common: We all subscribe to the philosophy that perception is reality. Just ask Yogi Berra, who observed, “Nobody goes to that restaurant anymore because it’s too crowded.”
Myths persist long after they have served their purposes; only small children can be conned into believing their mom when she says, “Eat your dinner because children in China are starving.” We grown-ups don’t believe the carrots that are grown (albeit organically) in China and then sold in Wal-Mart are more nutritious than the frozen ones.
I wish the financial and political communities would pay greater attention to the food community, which knows all about battleground “states,” having lived through innumerable frantically busy Friday and Saturday nights. Restaurant owners know all about credit, having wrestled with questionable credit cards. We know all about no-shows. We have our reservations, too. So when it comes to checks and balances, we need to all get together and stand up, instead of accepting the majority opinion as fact.
Irena Chalmers recently penned Food Jobs: 150 Great Jobs for Culinary Students, Career Changers and Food Lovers, published by Beaufort Books. Visit www.foodjobsbook.com.