Japanese gastronomy is celebrated justifiably for its harmony with nature and seasonality. Neglected in this celebration are the ideological values and the environmental impact of the gastronomy. Lack of sustainability, degradation of the soil, and industrial practices in agriculture are fundamental to creating Japanese cuisine. In addition, the idea of Japanese food as superior to other nations' cultural practices is rooted in political and historical approaches. How does the culture psychologically balance the idea of harmony with the harmfulness of degradation and ideology?

Preceding this annotated translation of the chapter “Dinner in the Current Age” from Eugène Briffault's 1846 work Paris à table is a brief introduction summarizing the author's professional career, contextualizing the text into the literature of the time, and suggesting his objective for the chapter and the book. The translated chapter begins with a look back at previous decades up to the author's time to examine the evolution of dinner at the higher levels of society and among the professions, including the various factors affecting it, such as uncertain financial conditions and tourism. The author follows with a look at dinners held in the world of theater, mentioning the kinds of meals prepared by celebrated artists, like Rachel and Talma, of his and previous times. Descending the social ladder, he then focuses his attention on the “bourgeois” dinner and the role of women cooks in its preparation, both of which meet with his approval. On the other hand, the “parvenu's” dinner meets with his extreme disapproval, and from there he gladly turns to dinner among shopkeepers and merchants, workers and laborers, finishing with several anecdotes that present models for hosts and guests as well as stories describing some of the follies that can occur at the dinner table. Illustrating the article are portraits of the author, Briffault, and several of the Bertall engravings that illustrated the original text.

Japanese gastronomy relies upon seasonality and centuries-old Zen Buddhist principles in methods of cooking, types of ingredients, and colors of food on the plate. But its practitioners and proponents have also mythologized its high-end cuisine. At the same time as Japan was undergoing the most rapid industrialization in history, fantasies about nature, and its role in cooking, developed. These fantasies exist within Japan as well as when its gastronomy is discussed with outsiders to the culture. Long ago, the fantasies served Japan's expansionist goals, and nowadays they contribute to the creation of a global brand—the idea that Japanese food has a native superiority. In addition, the fantasies distract consumers from environmental insult; the talk of Japanese love and respect of nature is at odds with the reality of its industrialization and urban sprawl. When Japanese chefs discuss the ideas behind the food they cook, they can resort to fables, and the psychology of what the food is said to be about has little to do with the pragmatic demands of what goes on in the kitchen. In fact, Japanese gastronomy, as is true of any other national cuisine, has examples of food that represent the nation, but are not rooted in myth. Such food has more to do with cooking than myth.

A brief introduction summarizing the author's professional career and his literary style and procedure precedes this annotated translation of the chapter “The Restaurants of Paris” from Eugène Briffault's 1846 text, Paris à table . Along with an historical discussion and a look back at the glorious days of the Empire's establishments, the chapter examines the specialties, the décor, and the patrons of the grand restaurants of the author's time and before. Looking at the changing restaurant scene since the fall of Napoleon, Briffault criticizes, in particular, the contemporary preference for the opulence of the surroundings over the quality of the food. Along with several anecdotes about specific meals and peculiar characters, he also observes restaurant owners and their staffs, with particular regard to the skills and temperament of the Parisian waiter. Briffault considers such celebrated restaurants as the Cadran bleu, Rocher de Cancale, and Chez Véry—restaurants famous for their cuisine, the lively crowds, and the novelists (along with many of their characters) who dined there. But he does not ignore the role of the mid-range restaurants and bourgeois tables, and he descends as well into the lower depths, visiting the eateries catering to workers and the students on the Left Bank, the gargotes, the tapis francs , the prix fixes, the Flicoteaus and Rougets.