In the age of AI, we can expect all sorts of robotic blog posts begin to appear on our screen, if they haven’t already done so. What is real and what isn’t? Ask Shakespeare. He pondered this question throughout the entire tragedy of Macbeth. “Fair is foul and foul is fair“, the opening lines of the play, set the central dilemma posed in every following Act. It is now the most important question of the era, when it comes to news, culture, learning, language, human relations, emotions and the intellect. I remember the outrage when we first began to doctor photos with moody filters, or the press began to manipulate images to suit their agenda. We now accept this as quotidian. Today, News Corp uses AI to produce 3000 Australian local news stories a week.
I opened Bard, Google’s AI assistant, and added a few prompts, such as In My kitchen, home grown, written in the first person, and diary. Here’s the result:
” I’m making soup tonight, and I’m using some of the winter squash that I grew in my kitchen garden. The squash is so flavorful, and it’s the perfect comfort food for a cold winter day. As I’m stirring the soup, I think about how much I love spending time in my kitchen. It’s my favorite place in the house, and I always feel happy and relaxed when I’m here. I love cooking, and I love experimenting with new recipes.”
Nauseating stuff! ‘Bard’ seems to be a misnomer here for a simplistic offering. When I opened the app, I thought it rather ironic that I was required to tick the box, I am not a robot. And, Note to AI, I will not give up the u in colour, or in flavourful, though I prefer the word flavoursome.
With that in mind, I’ll admit that my kitchen photos have been carefully edited. The messy benches and table clutter have been removed. I haven’t included any photos of delicious meals, such as dal, or risotto as these dishes tend to look like a dog’s dinner when photographed. These photos of fruits and food are real, after the mess edit: the colours are enhanced only by the winter light from my north facing window. Or are they? Did I pull the blinds down a fraction to create more chiaroscuro? Hover too unnaturally close to the subject?
The AI assistant on Jetpack provided this assessment of my blog up to this point.
“The content delves into the dilemma posed by AI in the age of robotic blog posts, drawing a parallel with Shakespeare’s Macbeth. It highlights the acceptance of manipulated images and questions the authenticity of AI-generated content. The user also shares a personal experience of editing kitchen photos and includes colorful images of fruits and food.
In terms of feedback, the post effectively raises the issue of AI-generated content and its impact on authenticity. It engages the reader by providing a personal perspective on the topic. The addition of images enhances the visual appeal and reinforces the content.
To improve the post further, here are a few actions:
1. Provide more analysis: While the post presents the issue of AI-generated content, it would benefit from a deeper exploration of the implications and potential consequences. Consider discussing the challenges faced by readers in determining what is real and what isn’t.
2. Diversify examples: Expand the examples beyond manipulated images and kitchen photos to include other areas where AI-generated content raises questions about authenticity, such as news articles, social media posts, or even academic papers.
3. Consider a stronger conclusion: Wrap up the post by summarizing the key points discussed and leave the reader with a thought-provoking question or call to action related to the topic of AI-generated content.
Overall, the post effectively introduces the topic of AI-generated content and its impact on authenticity. By incorporating these suggested actions, the content can be enhanced to provide a more comprehensive analysis and offer a stronger conclusion.”
I am impressed with that feedback, a bonus to all academic and teaching staff or a threat to their future? Marking papers has just become a waste of precious time. Learn online, cheat online, cut and paste, don’t read books, plagiarise if you like, and be assessed by a robot. Nothing is but what is not.
With regard to my images this month, there is always bread, it’s a part of my life, with three bakes most weeks. I enjoy the process during the day, though any bread making after 7 pm really annoys me. My mother and my grandmother never made bread. I very much doubt that my ancestors before them did either. My mother’s bread was delivered daily, as was the milk. Although I use a traditional levain, home baking is a rather modern thing, relying on a good oven and a few nice tools, along with a reliable source of organic flour. I feel very privileged that I can do this. I recently purchased a handsome cast iron Brunswick Bakers, a heavy beast weighing 6.5 kilos. It bakes bread beautifully though requires some strength to lift it in and out of the oven.
By contrast, my daughter came home with this brand-new Falconware Dutch Oven, a find in an opportunity shop for a meagre sum. Well spotted Rachael. At 950 grams, it’s so much easier to use.
The orange season has been impressive this year, providing enough to churn out two batches of marmalade. The trees are in flower again so this year we’ll have two seasons. This may be due to the lack of frost to date. The limes are more prolific, and I never know what to do with them, other than freeze a few for summer use.
The chooks are back on the lay. On lazy nights, there’s always the option of an omelette and a glass of wine, reminding me of the great food writing of Elizabeth David, in the collected essays from her book, An Omelette and a Glass of Wine, originally published in various newspapers and magazines between 1955 to 1984. Good writing, and still inspiring.
I always have turnips in my garden, such an old-fashioned, earthy tasting vegetable, and one I’m learning to use more creatively. One plan is to slice them finely into rounds and quickly pickle them to toss through a salad. Or to finely slice them and layer them with potatoes to cook in a gratin with butter and cream.
This final photo, a composed warm salad made with freshly caught calamari, and our winter salad leaves, was taken during a recent short holiday to Lake Tyers on the east coast of Victoria. It was one of the tastier dishes I made this month.
Thanks, Sherry, for hosting this monthly series. In My Kitchen has always been a comfortable place to record my kitchen exploits over the last 10 years, but as with the changing times, these days I’m more prone to merge my views on life as reflected in photos of food.
ALMOST ITALIAN 