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Our favo(u)rite British music mags are in especially fine Snob form this month. In Mojo, David Fricke, actually an American rock writer with an awesome Marky Ramone ’do, describes the sound of vintage Blondie as “a knockout combination of hot candy and pop-art vision, powered by the drumming of Clem Burke and iced with the peppermint-Kraftwerk keyboards of Jimmy Destri.” Nice one, David! Though if it’s “hot candy,” why are the Kraftwerk peppermints so icy?
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Adrià, Ferran. Spanish chef of appropriately surrealist, Dali-esque mien who functions as a lightning rod in the Food Snob debate over whether MOLECULAR GASTRONOMY is bracingly innovative or overwhelmed by gimmickry. The popularizer of the vegetable FOAMS that reviewers loved in Spain in 1998 but jadedly condemn in America now, Adrià, who operates out of a coastal Catalan resort called El Bulli (The Bulldog), combines a DayGlo aesthetic with a FERNAND POINT fealty to getting the most flavor out of his ingredients, resulting in such weird-ass but surprisingly edible creations as a sardine skeleton enshrouded in cotton candy and skinless green-pea raviolis that look like Dr. Seuss egg yolks. I clocked some Ferran Adrià influence in those fruit soups that we sucked down from medical syringes.