Futurism, boiled Barolo and Rhum
Filippo Tommaso Marinetti was a visionary and by now we've understood that visionaries may be grossly overlooked for ages before their idea of a new world actually starts materialising before everyone else.
Imagine a 32 years old poet that in 1908, together with some fellow artists, decides to impersonate the very essence of modern iconoclasm, destroying the old to give space to an artistic avantgarde based upon the principles of Novelty, Speed, Noise, Industry, Violence, Unseen, Unheard, Untasted, in a word, Future. Going as far as to seduce and then drop the daughter of Le Figaro's directeur general in order to publish a Manifesto on the European possibly most influetial newspapers. This is our hero, or villain depending on the ideology we think we subscribe to. He and his Futurist friends developed a body of work across the most diverse disciplines, from visual art to spoken word, passing through theatre, architecture and, of course, cuisine.
Perhaps the headline's recipe sounds still a bit too odd.. but thinking it over, even bacon-infused Manatthans would have been deemed extremely bold (not to say crazy) mixes only few years ago. The point here is being different at all costs, while at the same time create an experience worth to be remembered. La Cucina Futurista boasts dishes such as Porcoeccitato (litterally: excited pork), a skinless raw salame served in a blend of steamy hot espresso coffee and cologne; or Paradosso Primaverile (springtime paradox) for dessert, a palm-shaped cilinder of ice cream featuring on top banana skins and hard-boiled eggs filled with plum marmelade. Other dishes such as Ortocubo are plated in specific patterns so to create a visual feel similar to that of abstract paintings, mimicking Kandinski or Miró:
The Futurist drink list is no less surprising with its Decisione (equal parts of Vino Chinato, Rhum, Boiled Barolo and Tangerine Sauce), and Le Grandi Acque (equal parts Grappa, Gin, Kummel and Anice Liqueur topped with a floating anchoives rolled in a sacred host).
Meals are then served within creative environments in which aromas are sprayed, trumpets blown and specific words uttered while eating. This was quite a revolution for the beginning of 20th century but seems anyway that it may have influenced contemporary chefs and mixologists. "Who says you can't mix sardines and white chocolate?", this is words of Bulli's Ferran Adria, one of the most respected innovators of modern cuisine.
The crucial question is how really the perception of 'good taste' and 'bad taste' changes through time and space and what part do mediatic resonance play within the equation. Futurism, like any other ideology, is after all a form of marketing; think about the impact of communist or fascist propaganda and compare it with massive marketing campaigns conducted throughout several year of advertising sauration, lifestyle association and persuasion techniques based on the idea of a better future for us all and the rejection of tradional schemes (or brands, e.g. 1984 Apple commercial).
The generalised idea of 'good taste' seems therefore to gradually change along with trends raher than the opposite; people are ready to accept the bitter feel of a new fashion in exchange for the emotion generated by belonging to a larger community. Think about all the noise around spritzer drinks for example, and how a powerful Campari campaign has helped the transaction from sweet to bitter style of drinking; or the sudden disappearance of Pinot Grigio among lists in London's most influencial wine venues as it was starting probably to be perceived as being far too balanced and not bold enough in times where young consumers demand more and more identity from each product on the market. Identity is then served on silver plated ads by top brands, political parties or again found into diversity, novelty and experimentation.
It is of course a hard task, no to say an impossible one, to know what it sits at the bottom of it all; if it is organisations to influence people towards their products or ideologies, or if it depends exclusively from people's hidden motifs and everchanging demands; maybe a combination of both, maybe some other deep essential reason at the core of our being, maybe one day not too far from now bartenders across the world will really boil up Barolo in their latest mixology craze and Marinetti's Futurism will be recognised as the movement that started it all. Until then we may want to enjoy a glass as we usually do before our taste buds begin to tell us otherwise, after all I bet the man himself wouldn't have done otherwise in his evenings out with D'Annunzio & co. We must face it, innovation is king, but tradition is its mother and these two polarised forces are the engine of change, which is life itself, the idea that opens new horizons while keeping enough discipline not to lose itself into chaos.