Do my cannoli shells have to be flown to New York daily from a little town outside Palermo and be stuffed with authentic, imported ricotta, or can I just enjoy my cannolo Little Italy style in pastry that they made at the shop? They taste good to me, so why not?
Can I enjoy the ramen soup at the local Japanese joint, even though eating it there is strickly forbidden by the cognoscenti, because it is not authentically-prepared Japanese ramen?
Is the Foodie obsession with authenticity preventing us from actually just enjoying good food?
I kind of wonder about other kinds of food fetishism, too.
Can I just get my cup of coffee the way I like it?
Or I do I need to exclusively drink fair trade coffee picked by members of an indigenous women's collective on the lava-strewn slopes of a Nicaraguan volcano where Western people have not set foot since 1586 ... and the beans are secretly passed to members of a Berkeley-based "freedom foundation" via an underground railroad so that profits don't get to whatever ruling junta is currently in charge there.
And that tomato on the shelf over there looks pretty good to me, too, even though it was grown in a hot house in the Netherlands.