Wonderfully written review.
Twenty minutes later, possibly under their own steam, the snails arrive. Vesuvian, they bubble and smoke in a magma of astringent garlic butter and parsley. We grasp them with the spring-loaded specula and gingerly unwind the dark gastropods, curling like dinosaur boogers. They go on and on, expanding onto the plate as if they were alien. We have to cut them in half, which is just wrong. The rule with snails is: Don’t eat one you couldn’t get up your nose.
“This sauce is really good,” she said. “It’s so Jean-Georges. He does this French-and-Asian thing.” She warned me that she would need a few seconds to figure out its precise ingredients. (She refused to divulge them, on the ground that Vongerichten would consider the recipe “a trade secret.” I later learned from one of the waiters that the ingredients include powdered English mustard and soy sauce.) “It’s so complex,” she said. “It makes me smile.”
The New Yorker goes undercover with a Michelin food critic, whose mere existence is so secretive that the author is forced to refer to her as M, which is the initial of a name that isn’t even hers.
I couldn’t help but think constantly of Anton Ego, the food critic nemesis in Pixar’s Ratatouille, while reading this article.
Yes, you’re seeing correctly. That is a 2 lb. Italian sausage with 2 lb. of bacon weaved around it and topped with a whole jar of barbecue sauce. Your heart just stopped. And you’re welcome.
Lucky Charms Succeed (via succeedblog)
Sometimes, my dreams are this awesome.
Decorating your lunch box to resemble a picnic on a grassy meadow, complete with a real slice of turf and a beautiful landscape painted on the lid. This is fantastic.
All that’s missing is a whole bunch of ants and other annoying insects snacking on your picnic food.
These photographs show extreme makeovers of actual fast food items purchased at popular fast food restaurants. No additional ingredients have been added except for an occasional simple garnish.
This is oddly fascinating and disturbing to my insides at the same time. I’m following this tumblelog for future gross-outness.
Memorial Day Weekend
What better way to commemorate our fallen troops than stuffing ourselves silly with burgers, hot dogs, and wings? Break out the old grill and open up a new bag of charcoal because it’s time for some BBQ! Nothing says ‘American pride’ quite like using national holidays as an excuse to expand our waistlines and raise our insurance premiums.
Time to go make my country proud. Those burgers, hot dogs, and wings aren’t going to eat themselves. You’re all invited! Non-New Yorkers need not apply.Bonus linkage
Gizmodo’s ‘10 Awesome Grills for the ultimate Memorial Day BBQ’ Check out the hilarious accessories. Roast my weenie! LOL