I attended the Press Preview and Opening Reception for both The Goat’s Dance: Photographs by Graciela Iturbide and André Kertész: Seven Decades last night. I figured it’s best that I separate my review (short version - they’re both excellent, really everything the Getty Center is doing right now is excellent, and if you live in or near LA you should see everything they do, even if it’s just casually) from my foodblogging, so that the whole thing doesn’t run on way, way too long. I really like writing about the more trivial aspects of the Getty, an organization that I’ve become increasingly fascinated by. I’d love to devote a whole year to just creeping around the place with my camera, constructing an extended portrait of the organization and the physical place itself.
The one thing I can say is this - arriving at the press table to before proceeding into the exhibition, the first thing that was said to me was how much they liked my reviews of the Getty food from their press luncheon. So I guess I’ve found what I’m good at.
Reviewing food at the Getty is so much fun because the institution is both so open and accessible to everyone (despite being on a hill and only accessible by tram or shuttle) and at the same time such a posh place. I never manage to not feel out of place there - even the lowliest Getty employee seems to spend more on clothing than I make. Maybe they’re just snappier dressers and smarter shoppers than I am. So there’s this interesting divide between an organization that seems unflinchingly devoted to delivering arts content of the highest quality to the broadest possible audience, and one that serves big heaping bowls of faux-Devonshire cream (I’m considering starting a campaign to make them start serving the real deal - just so I can taste it) to people attending small meetings, and it just fascinates me.

Above - I ate a lot of good food last night, and this was the start of it. I’m immediately suspicious of any tamale that isn’t sold out of an insulated cooler, carried about on a man’s shoulder. I had the chicken tamale, seen above, and Michele had the sweet corn tamale. They were both shockingly moist, and really blew my expectations out of the water. The sweet corn tamale was the better of the two, in my opinion, as I tend to prefer my chicken tamales more on the doused in hot sauce side. The only thing missing was a guy walking around and yelling “Tamales!”

Above - The condiment bar between the tamales and the soup. Again, the Getty really surprised me. That little bowl at the bottom of the table is my bowl of pork and pozole soup. Just excellent, with a little avocado, sour cream and a few dashes of Tapatio. The pozole was cooked to just the right texture so that it has enough body to resist a little when you bite down on it. The only thing missing was the hangover. They also served a vegetarian tortilla soup.” Tortilla soupse in parts of Mexico, tortilla soup is something you might feed to the stray dog that lives in your yard, not that there’s anything wrong with eating dog food, especially when it’s delicious.

Above - The Cheese and Bread Table. I guess this is mandatory, but it seemed sort of unnessecary after the excellent soup and tortillas that were being served. The cheese selection looked excellent, but my lactose intolerance made me shy away. I think that habitual opening-goers develop some kind of dependence on cheese. Watching the almost relentless procession of wait staff continually replenishing this table was intense. A lot of juggling and employees in vests making tight, stressed faces as they struggled to shuffle around the crowd and each other without being intrusive.
Although it’s not seen in any of these photographs, the booze selection was really excellent. The Getty’s Mexican beers were Bohemia and Negro Modelo, which are, in my opinion, the only Mexican beers worth drinking. I was also relieved to see that the lemons they were slicing were going into glasses of water and/or Coca-Cola, rather being used to abuse the flavour of anyone’s beer.
The food at the Getty was so good that I think both Michele and I were tempted to just pig out and abandon our plans to go to Tommy’s on Foothill in Sunland afterwards, but the temptation of that chili dog and fries was just too powerful. Getty chow makes an appropriately LA appetizer to one of our city’s finest meals, though.
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