It’s happening, all around us. Look at your menu. Is it happening? Oh my god, it’s happening: “house-made artisanal organic ketchup” is happening.
It is dangerous, and it has to stop.
Too often, in their quest to create something different, memorable, and so very “them,” restaurants from Charleston to San Francisco to that culinary wonderland Charlevoix, MI, forget about “people who are not them," who "just like regular-ass ketchup.” So while they’re house-making their wonderfully groundbreaking turnip sardine caper aioli, they might also get the not-bright idea to work tomatoes, and vinegar, and some honey from the beehive they’ve been cultivating in the interactive dining room into an unholy mixture they call “Catsup, Buttercup.”
This is hazardous, to all of us. When I order my burger, I'm picturing the Heinz I'm going to bathe it in. That very specific, very expected flavor element is part of why I ordered the burger in the first place -- it's just part of the deal. Ketchup should be a constant, not a variable.