I’m not sure when this need to rebirth food as something to be savored and celebrated became a passionate pursuit. Maybe it started with my raw food journey. Instead of reveling in the pleasure of eating more fresh fruits and vegetables in all their splendor, a meal became a contest and anything less than 100 percent raw was somehow deemed less nourishing than its cooked counterpart. I’d watch raw food enthusiasts order a salad of iceberg lettuce and olives (hold the dressing) because nothing else on the menu met their raw food standards. Not even the most beautiful array of steamed vegetables drizzled with miso lemon vinaigrette. . . Perhaps it started in nutrition school where, with each new malady we examined, one or more…