The Year of Dining Dangerously

By Mimi Sheraton

If there is a single word to characterize 1987 in the gourmet marketplace, it would be silliness. Mustard came in for a drubbing with a variety of novelty flavorings, and deodorized garlic is in the wings. Dieters still want to eat their cake without having it on their waistlines, and speaking of cake, Texas is exporting cheesecake to New York, the home of the original. Frightened by a shaky market (and perhaps having exhausted their ingenuity), restaurateurs began to think small, and the future of the epic theme eatery is much in doubt. A stronger trend in dining out is the renaissance of Italian cuisine in stylish settings -- beating the fancy French at their own game.

CHUTZPAH AWARD The hands-down winner is Lyn Dunsavage, who in July brought her New York, Texas Cheesecake to, of all places, New York, New York, hoping to find retail outlets. Baked back home, this lemon- and vanilla-flavored cake is based on a recipe Dunsavage's mother developed after being beguiled by the original on a trip to the Big Apple. The verdict from this aficionado of the genre: not bad, but a bit too sweet and creamy to fool connoisseurs.

CUISINE OF THE YEAR Italian food is the no-contest fashion favorite, especially in new casually chic cafe-trattorias. Enticing antipasti, new thin pizzas, and the pasta, fish and vegetable dishes suit modern ideas of good nutrition, as well as the desires of grazers. The Milan import Bice took Manhattan by storm last summer, and hopes to do the same in Beverly Hills in '88, when it opens another branch. Both Avanzare and Spiaggia are seeing heavy action in Chicago, and Restaurant Associates is planning to expand its Vivande format from Baltimore to Washington, D.C., and Livingston, N.J.

MOST OVERWORKED CONDIMENT Cutting the mustard with just about everything from apricots to tarragon, with champagne, honey, horseradish, garlic, pickles and jalapenos in between, seemed the favorite ploy of sales-minded merchandisers, invariably with cloying results. Jars of mustard line store shelves as flavored oils and vinegars did a few years back.

MOST CONFUSING FISH DISH Dubbed Skin Caviar by its maker, La Prairie, and packed with a silvery spoon, this chemical anti-aging goop looks good enough to eat. It raises the question of whether these tiny pearly grains are meant to be spread on toast or on one's face. The latter is the answer, of course, but if stored in the refrigerator, Skin Caviar, at $65 for two ounces, could lead to some surprise snacking.

NEATEST TURNAROUND Can a new management take over a revered but fading institution, refurbish it and attract a young and trendy clientele without alienating its valuable old regulars? In the case of Manhattan's fabled '21' Club, the answer promises to be yes. Biggest controversy is the house hamburger, now with herb butter at the center. Newcomers love it, but old- timers say, "Hold everything."

; NOSTALGIA ON THE HIGHEST The '30s in all of their sleek and glitzy Art Deco splendor have been re-created in the restoration of the Rainbow Room in New York City's Rockefeller Center. Perched atop the 70-story RCA Building, this classic setting offers incomparable views of the fabulous skyline, plus revolving dance floor, deep purple walls and glints of crystal and brass. Now if only they can cook . . .

THE MOST AMAZING GRACE For the new diet religion, a new way to say grace before meals. Before beginning to eat, devout dieters ask indulgence of those at their table for the caloric sins they are about to commit, specifying both their diets and their self-imposed penances. Some samples overheard in restaurants across the country this year: "I'm on Pritikin, but not for lunch"; "I'm on Fit for Life, but I'll have bacon and eggs for breakfast and fruit the rest of the week"; "I didn't eat anything this morning (or yesterday), so I can splurge now"; "I will not eat anything tonight (or tomorrow), so please pass the bread and butter"; "I skipped meat because I want dessert."

LEAST NECESSARY COOKBOOK Think of all the hideous food you have had in airplanes and along highways, then wonder why you would want recipes for such fare. Nonetheless, the Marriott Hot Shoppes Cookbook provides exactly that, honoring this institutional caterer's 60th anniversary. With alarming candor, the book advocates oleo for almost everything, flour in chicken soup, cornstarch and mayonnaise in quiche, and the kind of gravy that gives gravy a bad name. For good measure, the edges of the book's pages are artificially yellowed for that homey touch of age.

MOST POINTLESS IMPROVEMENT With the senses of taste and smell being so mutually dependent, why would anyone choose to eat odorless garlic? Yet Dr. Saiki's Garlic, developed in Japan, will be available in East Coast test markets by February. A spokesman promises that this processed garlic, soaked and then dried, has the characteristic odor before it is eaten but not after, thereby eliminating half the pleasure of the true garlic lover.

MOST BURNING QUESTION If the October market crash marks the end of yuppiedom, what will happen to the restaurants yuppies frequented? Will they have to add acoustical tile to cut down noise? Will their chefs have to learn to cook? Will actor-waiters have to act like waiters? Stay tuned.