Food, money, class.

FOOD, MONEY, CLASS WHEN DID FOOD become a matter of class in the United States? It may have happened when class in this country got to be a matter of money, and the classy but still insecure haves felt the need to proclaim their superiority over the have-nots any way they could. Food happens to be the easiest, least expensive, and most immediate way of showing off one's blessings--compare the price of even the most expensive grain of caviar with that of the cheapest emerald.

Over time, of course, fancy food habits do trickle down from above. Sweden and Denmark are good examples of this progression de haut en bas. For several centuries, these countries were ruled by aristocrats with luxurious food habits and tastes. These inspired the local masses to imitate them as well as they could, with the result that the food of Sweden and Denmark is far more interesting even today than that of the other Scandinavian countries.

In the United States, meanwhile, the contrast between rich and poor is far less pronounced today than it was a few decades ago and--far more importantly for culinary trends--so is the contrast between the middle and upper classes. Witness the luxury restaurants sprouting up, the increasing consumption of classy foods like caviar and foie gras, and the growing imports of exotic potables. Consumption of French champagne has risen; indeed, champagne, both domestic and imported, and wine coolers are the only growing categories in the depressed wine and liquor markets. Nor is this a "yuppie" phenomenon--I see people who are neither old rich nor about-to-be rich piling up their shopping carts with so-called gourmet items from the supermarket in our neighborhood. Perhaps it is a portent that even unfashionable neighborhoods now have better-stocked supermarkets.

But classiness in foods is not confined to exotic imports. Even vegetables have a social status. Why are cabbage and carrots not as highly regarded as lettuce and peas? Why would a cook rather serve guests asparagus than broccoli? Is it because of the difference in price? Size is also a factor in the social status of vegetables: the smaller, the better, and never mind that the miniature vegetables one buys at inflated prices don't taste as good as their full-grown brothers. Speaking for myself, I think that it is useless to serve good vegetables as adjuncts to a meat dish anyway. If the vegetable is worthy, make a separate course of it as the French do in their traditional cooking. But if you feel that your raost needs a touch of green, do as so many restaurants do: puree your veggie with butter and a little cream. Keep it hot over gently simmering water in the top of a double boiler, and you will find that the vegetable keeps much nicer and fresher than when it is cooked in the ordinary way.

Like a Ferris wheel, food snobberies keep on going up, down, and around. Why do expensive restaurants feature little mounds of cornmeal mush and call it polenta, in Italian, as if cornmeal mush were something special? Why are the heavy, greasy foods of the peasants who came to America in search of a better life now expensive and desirable? Why is sloppy Mexican food fashionable when children, so one hopes, are told to eat neatly? Why is it so important for rich women to be thin? Why is it less seemly to drink wine at lunch, even in moderation, than it is to drink Perrier water? And, finally, why is it stupid to go to a restaurant to enjoy dishes you can't possibly have at home, but classy to eat out for a restaurant's ambiance? Why, why, why? I ask myself when I cannot sleep at night, rather than meditate on spiritual matters. And when I am honest with myself, I have to admit that my English governess was right when she told my mother, many years ago, that I was not given to thinking serious thoughts, and never would be.