Gwyneth Paltrow has taken time from her rigorous schedule of recommending mid-century modern furnishings and quietly passing judgment on your plebeian lifestyle to write a cookbook, My Father’s Daughter, but the New York Post is skeptical: “The icy blonde famous for her WASP-y good looks suddenly insists she loves to chow down just like normal folk. For a recent Vogue profile, she showed off her deep-fat fryer and outdoor pizza oven. Yet strangely, when she cooked with food critic Jeffrey Steingarten, she made two batches of the corn chowder — one with bacon (for him) and one without (for herself). Talk about food issues. How can a self-proclaimed epicure be so damn picky?”
Not only is Paltrow a regular advocate of cleanses and detox (as she once wrote in a Goop newsletter: “I like to do fasts and detoxes a couple of times during the year, the most hardcore one being the Master Cleanse I did last spring.”), but this is a woman who notoriously refused to eat jamón ibérico with Mario Batali in Spain.
No one is saying self-proclaimed foodies have to enjoy every edible product – though it’s worth noting that Steingarten famously chronicled his attempt to rid himself of food phobias before becoming Vogue’s food writer. But can you truly count yourself as an authority on comfort food if you eschew every delicious quadruped in the animal kingdom? Similarly, it’s possible to love food and count calories (see: Serious Eats honcho Ed Levine’s Serious Diet), but if you, like Gwyneth, were recently diagnosed with the beginning stages of osteopenia, a bone density disease often associated with too much exercising and too little food, you might not be the most authoritative source for pizza and french fry recipes. At the end of the day, Paltrow’s Rachael Ray act is about as convincing as her role in the ultra-campy movie Hush. Perhaps she should stick to issuing proclamations like “I find that the Four Seasons can be hit and miss.”
The Faux Foodie [NYP]