Slow Food Nation is smiling

I spent two hours at the Slow Food Nation taste pavilion this past weekend here in San Francisco. Lots of debate around these parts as to the "elitist" nature of the event and the movement from which it springs. What did I see?

Happy people. Lots of them, on both sides of the exchange.

The Slow Food campaign, which started in Italy two decades ago, now counts more than 80,000 members worldwide. The turnout for Slow Food Nation this past weekend was estimated at 60,000.

Something's going on. But what exactly?

Slow Food is the opposite of fast. The underlying idea is that food is meant to be savored, its origins understood. From that point, a multitude of good things follow.

Slow Food Nation organizer and celebrity chef Alice Waters put it this way:

"When we eat fast food, we are eating the values of that fast food. And it's telling us that food should be cheap. And its telling us that advertising confers value, and that standardization is more important than quality, and that kitchen work is drudgery. ... We have to understand that food is something very precious, not something that [comes] after the Nike shoes, the cell phones and the cars and whatever else we decide we're going to spend our money on. It should be way up there [in our values]. And we either pay up front, or we pay [later]."

Slow foodists favor paying now, and if what I saw this past weekend is any indication, are happy to do so.

Enthusiasts had been targeting this past weekend's San Francisco event, the first of its kind, for a long while, and spirits were high -- pun intended. The chattiest exhibitors we met were the bartenders.

Our absinthe cocktail came with a 10-minute explanation of the spirit's origin, history, use, and pointed direction on how to drink it: "Like wine! Don't gulp!"

We met Art Pollard, a chocolatier from Utah, whose enthusiasm for his end product seemed to settle the question: If you could eat chocolate any time you wanted, would you still? His method of doling out samples was: one for you, one for me, one for you...

We chatted with a couple in from Eugene, Oregon for the weekend, on behalf of their Slow Food "convivium" (read: local chapter).

Toward the end of the night, we slumped in folding chairs at long tables around cups of strong coffee. The vibe was more wedding than convention.

Three days later, I'm still smiling. The event's lasting impression: Think before you eat, about the source of what you're about to put in your mouth, the distance it's traveled, the people who cultivated it.

And if they're standing in front of you, say "thank you."