Today's Herald has a lifestyle story on fashions of the 50s and early 60s that are coming back as a result of the TV show Mad Men. Bill Maher wears skinny ties, and I have a large collection - though I began it 20 years ago - of Roosters. (Why the thin, straight-bottomed, horizontally-striped tie has not made a comeback both puzzles and pleases me.)
But my nostalgia for the period only goes so far, and usually stops at the table. True, people were better dressed before the Summer of Love, but they weren't better fed. When I was growing up, bread was pre-sliced and soup was canned. There were two types of ethnic restaurant in my small New Jersey town: Italian and Chinese, and the latter served spaghetti (yes, spaghetti, not lo mein) for diners who didn't like to stray. Even in sophisticated Manhattan, I suspect, it was difficult to find sushi or pad thai or chicken tikka masala. Practically every day of my life I eat some food that I didn't know existed when I was growing up: black beans, tapenade, salsa, miso, pesto, gazpacho, hummus, ciabatta, tortilla, empanada, arugula, mango, cilantro, risotto, ceviche, shitake, guacamole, kimchee, calamari, rapini, pierogi, wasabi. The stains on my Roosters now cover the world.