By Phoebe Damrosch

Whisk-wielding rock-star chefs are everywhere these days. Same goes for sincere farmers — posing, elbow on hoe, in glossy food-magazine spreads. We applaud former Wall Street executives who open cupcake shops and lawyers who ditch the briefcase and buy a vineyard. Go to some friends’ house for breakfast and they usher you into their chef’s kitchen where they make you a macchiato with their vintage La Pavoni, garnish your scrambled eggs with shaved bottarga and later tag the food (not you) in a Facebook album.

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