Last Saturday, another edition of the gastronomic festival “Reserva de Sabores” took place at Hacienda de los Morales in Mexico City, where some of Mexico’s best chefs showcased their creations inspired by a classic from Tapatío cuisine: the torta ahogada, paired with one of Mexico’s finest tequilas.
This space is not dedicated to gastronomic chronicles. However, this event served as the perfect setting to analyze, within a micro social space, many aspects that occur around the world of gastronomy, charity events, culinary trends, sharing food, etc. All under a socio-anthropological lens.
The event was organized in part as a celebration of gastronomy but also as a fundraiser for the foundations Niños en Alegría and APAC. Philanthropy is an entire case study in itself. The historian Paul Veyne, in his magnificent work “Bread and Circuses,” documented in detail the intrinsic relationship between acts of charity and banquets in ancient Rome. He explained the term evergetism as those actions undertaken by individuals to publicly share their wealth, such as organizing sumptuous banquets, among other things, to give to citizens who had less, in exchange for which the donor gained high esteem and prestige in their community. Inspired by these studies, Marcel Mauss wrote his famous “Essay on the Gift,” which to this day remains a cornerstone of many investigations: What compels us to give when we have received something? Reciprocity is, in part, one of the principles that allow us to function in society—not necessarily expecting to receive the same in return, but always, when we give, we unconsciously expect something. The gift given without expectation is theoretically described as philanthropy. On ethical grounds, sometimes we donate to feel better about ourselves and to contribute to improving our environment. Religious, humanitarian, ethical, spiritual, or even fiscal reasons: humans, by nature, at some point empathize with a cause. When this cause is framed within a celebration of gastronomy, so fashionable today, it is undoubtedly more attractive to people who may not be accustomed to supporting social causes.
Speaking of gastronomy, it is also interesting to observe how the gastronomic movement in Mexico is moving in the same direction as elsewhere. Some sociologists have already described how cooking has shifted from being an everyday process to an aesthetic elevation that many even consider art. And all art requires artists. Today’s chefs are the rockstars of the 60s. Now, a food enthusiast dreams of attending a “concert” (that is, obtaining a reservation at El Bulli) by Ferran Adrià as if it were a front-row Rolling Stones concert. The chefs participating in the festival were seen enjoying themselves, kind and smiling—a feat not easy when running a kitchen with millimetric precision and military order. This gesture is appreciated when reflected in the dishes tasted. Regarding the dishes, we will not discuss their quality, as that is for gastronomes, but we will make some sociological observations: We especially appreciate the creativity with which chefs Benito and Solange offer unpretentious creations, rescuing Mexican flavors and ingredients, executed with cleanliness and simplicity to enhance the flavors, rather than focusing on the exoticism of presentation, failed ingredient combinations, or pretentious concoctions. The monopoly of classic cuisines like the French is waning. But if we aspire to be a global reference, we must take advantage of the best of both worlds: the originality and richness of our ingredients and the creativity of our cooks, with the French control of processes so that a dish always comes out the same, regardless of whether the cook is angry, sick, or replaced that day.
A final aspect to highlight is the power of commensality, defined as “the act of eating together.” Thus, finding ourselves at a long table with strangers, eating elbow to elbow, where even due to space constraints, the much-studied social bubble (or interpersonal distance) is invaded in the purest style of a tavern, market counter, or diner; only served to encourage exchanges that, in other circumstances, would hardly promote conversation. If all this is facilitated by the loosened tongues that tequila provides, the gathering becomes a pleasant space. Everyone likes to talk about food, for better or worse. In the end, whether it’s for a passion for food, admiration for today’s chefs, a desire to help philanthropic associations, or simply to meet people, an event like Reserva de Sabores is the ideal setting to enjoy.
@Lillie_ML
— This article was originally published in Spanish by Liliana Martínez Lomelí. Translation generated with AI from the original text.