We are all gripped by the selfie: the pointless, egotistical guilty pleasure of photographing ourselves with our smartphone, to not only document the mad and wonderful life we live, but to rub other people’s noses in it. Selfies may be taken for oneself, of oneself and by oneself, but they are almost never kept to oneself. Instead, the selfies almost immediately find their way onto Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram and all those other wonderful soapboxes of the internet, where we stand and scream and shout to announce and validate our existence.
I am not so big on taking selfies, perhaps because I just don’t find myself all that interesting or photogenic. I do, however, take lots and lots of phtotos of food and drink, and of myself eating and drinking. Recently, I have been reading articles about snooty restaurant chefs taking offense of this harmless habit. They declare war on guests who take photos of their carefully constructed culinary creations. Apparently, they are quite willing to sell you these edible works of art, but they want to maintain intellectual ownership. So you may destroy the food with your knife, put it in your mouth, dissolve it in gastric acid and send it to its demise in a porcelain toilet bowl, but you are NOT allowed to take a photo of what you just paid 50 euro’s for to keep as a memento.
These chefs have no idea about food and about what it does to emotions and memories. Let me explain how it works for me. Great, memorable meals are always more than just that. They are also great, memorable times spent with great, memorable people. A terrific meal by oneself is really quite a depressing affair. A great meal in great company is the best thing imagineable. Life just does not get any better. So, when I take a photo of a lovely plate of food, I also place a marker in my memory of a truly great moment. What chef would not be proud, to be part of someone’s dearest memories?
Apparently, the chefs who protest against food selfies, and who in some cases have gone so far as to explicitly forbid photography in their restaurants, are afraid that their intellectual property gets infringed upon. Yeah right. As if a crappy iPhone photo of some exquisite food is suddenly going to make you able to replicate that same food in your own kitchen. I have phtographed lots of food, but never once in order to copy a dish at home. Simply put: if a restaurant serves the kind of food I can cook at home, I am not going to eat there. The beauty of a home cooked meal is just that: that you or a loved one made it, and that you eat it at home. In a restaurant, I want to be stunned and amazed by ingredients I cannot get my hands on, by cooking skills that require years of training, by beautiful presentation I could never pull off on my cheap plates. And I want to remember that, so I want to take that photo.
Deal with it, snooty chefs, and allow me the pleasure of hanging on to what should be a wonderful memory. If you see me taking a food selfie in your restaurant, the you can be damn sure I am having a wonderful time, that I want to remember long after the food has been digested. So please… indulge me, or better still, pose with me! And you can be sure I’ll be back.