In the past, I have been accused of being excessively generous towards the products that I have reviewed. This is actually a fair criticism; while I try to be very honest about the foods that I discuss, I also tend to focus on the positive and sometimes downplay the negative. Beyond that, I usually only review products that I really like, going with the idea that ignoring lesser foodstuffs is probably the best possible critique.

That having been said, I feel obliged to offer an analysis of La Cucina Italiana, a slick, beautiful monthly that touts itself as "Italy's premier food and cooking magazine." Recently, my wife, who is a huge fan of Italian cuisine, bought us a subscription, hoping that it would inspire me to expand my Tuscan table offerings. As soon as I opened the first issue, I was immediately impressed: the magazine was filled with beautiful pictures, interesting columns, and intriguing recipes. Admittedly, some of the editor in chief's remarks struck me as being self-aggrandizingly douchy, but I assumed that this was another example of the "Christopher Kimball Syndrome." This disease, named for the second-rate George Will clone who publishes Cook's Illustrated, is based in the mistaken impression that editors of low-circulation cooking magazines are actually celebrities, fit to comment on the broader world. While I disagree, I can't really fault La Cucina's Michael Wilson for his misunderstanding. After all, if food celebrity has somehow oozed into the world of food journalism, the fault probably lies in the system, not the lemmings who have gotten sucked into it.

I could forgive La Cucina Italiana its smug, superior tone if the recipes were actually any good. Unfortunately, they run the gamut from moderately passable to utterly vile. The best recipe I've tried was a basic method for roasting tomatoes. While fairly generic, it was also easy and produced a flavorful ingredient that beautifully perked up pasta. On the other hand, of the two caper dishes that I tried, one looked like dog food and tasted like the sink trap at a Korean restaurant. The other was merely bland, which made it vastly superior by comparison.

Unfortunately, we have a subscription to the magazine, which means that it will continue to occupy a proud place in our bathroom magazine rack, offering beautiful pictures of meals that border on the inedible. On the bright side, if kitchen wizardry doesn't do the trick, then high-end food porn might be handy for convincing our friends that my wife and I are serious about cooking!