In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations, the new needs friends.
昨晚，我有了壹次全新的體驗，品嘗了壹道異乎尋常的美味，出自某個想都不敢想的廚師之手。這道美味以及它的創造者改變了我對廚藝的膚淺看法，他們徹底顛覆了我的內心。過去我曾口無遮攔地對古斯特主廚的那句名言“人人都能做菜”加以嘲諷。直到如今，我才明白他那句話的真正含義。並不是所有人都能夠成為偉大的藝術家，而壹位偉大的藝術家卻可能來自任何壹個角落。難以想象現在古斯特餐廳掌勺的天才大廚竟是如此卑微不起眼的出生，但他可以說是，從我評論家的眼光看，巴黎最壹流的主廚。我迫不及待地想要重返古斯特餐廳，渴望品味更多他的傑作。
Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more.