“They’ve stolen our dreadlocks!” ~ Have American chefs culturally appropriated la cucina Italiana?

As an Italian food chronicler, by virtue of working through the past few decades and witnessing many iterations of Italian-divined restaurants, living where I live in 2024 can be a bit discombobulating.

While I understand the spirit of Italian cooking draws upon improvisation, there is also a good argument for the great classic dishes that are rarely seen in these parts in their pure form. Ingredients matter. The season matters. The place where one lives matters. But sometimes lines are crossed, and from where I observe, we’ve crossed over into the land of contravention. They’ve stolen our dreadlocks. Italian food has been culturally appropriated. And it’s an unsightly mess.

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 Over the past few days, I’ve been chatting with a foodie friend who spares no expense when it comes to food and wine. This is a person who will fly to Japan to eat raw fish. He was asking me for my take on some Italian places here in Dallas. One of his comments, in response was, “I’d rather fly to New York and go to Rezdora,” where the chef is a (local) friend of ours.

It got me to thinking about the costs of getting on a plane and going to Italy to eat authentic Italian.

What? Of all the profligate, indulgent, extravagant, privileged, entitled, senseless babble!

Well, as Batman said, “The world only makes sense when you force it to.”

So, let’s run some numbers.