Kathy loved this weekend's New York Times profile of Chris Matthews, and as a profile, she's right. It was terrifically written, fast-moving, and had some of the best quotes in recent memory ("Sometimes during commercial breaks, Matthews will boast to Olbermann of having restrained himself during the prior segment. 'And I reward him with a grape,' Olbermann says."). Reihan, who used to work for Matthews, is less positive. He declares Matthews bombast as imbued with purpose and "moral urgency," a response to the dark times in which we live. Both Kathy and Reihan, I think, are focusing too much on Matthews, when in fact, he's a bit besides the point. In Bill Buford’s book Heat, Buford describes the guiding imperative of Babbo, the restaurant of the garrulous and brilliant chef Mario Batali. “We’re here to buy food, fix it up, and sell it at a profit,” Batali would say. “That’s what we do.” At the same time, however, the kitchen always aspired to that glittering ideal known as “cooking with love.” Babbo often seemed riven by those two missions – yet another example of the inevitable collision that occurs when an individual’s passion also becomes their livelihood. Batali can be brilliant, and his kitchen can cook with love, but only insofar as both things are profitable. If the brilliance or the love enter into real tension with the profits, the profits will win. DOES MATTHEWS MATTER?
Kathy loved this weekend's New York Times profile of Chris Matthews, and as a profile, she's right. It was terrifically written, fast-moving, and had some of the best quotes in recent memory ("Sometimes during commercial breaks, Matthews will boast to Olbermann of having restrained himself during the prior segment. 'And I reward him with a grape,' Olbermann says."). Reihan, who used to work for Matthews, is less positive. He declares Matthews bombast as imbued with purpose and "moral urgency," a response to the dark times in which we live. Both Kathy and Reihan, I think, are focusing too much on Matthews, when in fact, he's a bit besides the point. In Bill Buford’s book Heat, Buford describes the guiding imperative of Babbo, the restaurant of the garrulous and brilliant chef Mario Batali. “We’re here to buy food, fix it up, and sell it at a profit,” Batali would say. “That’s what we do.” At the same time, however, the kitchen always aspired to that glittering ideal known as “cooking with love.” Babbo often seemed riven by those two missions – yet another example of the inevitable collision that occurs when an individual’s passion also becomes their livelihood. Batali can be brilliant, and his kitchen can cook with love, but only insofar as both things are profitable. If the brilliance or the love enter into real tension with the profits, the profits will win. 
