Sure, a lot of people hate fruitcake (a lot of people whose friends need to buy more expensive fruitcake). But really, to challenge one to a rap battle?

I think, as well, to then lose to the fruitcake? That, my friends, is no way to celebrate Christmas.

Except your stomach, after this meal!

Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts

That's not a 99% markup tho

Jeez, never trust a restaurant that can’t even do math. If it were really a 99% burger, it should be 58 cents!

Which is just about what the 99% can afford lately.

Whipped Cream Vodka

Via Wayne Racine:

Is there a NFTW tag? If so this deserves it. Imitation whipped cream flavoured vodka. No thank-you!http://instagr.am/p/PbuH8/

I guess this is useful for when you’re all out of Malibu and you have exactly a half-hour to get drunk and pass out before your parents get home.

How many kinds of Pringles are there?

That's a whole lotta Pringles

I don’t know. Frankly, I got as far as Blueberry and Hazelnut Pringles before I lost the ability to concentrate. Or retain breakfast. Until I got to that, I was thinking about the truism that no matter what size the Pringles can, it’s only one serving.

Here are 100 different kinds, anyway:

What the HEY-ELL?

One finds the strangest things, one does, when surfing the internet looking for virtual presents for other bloggers (don’t ask). One of those things is this: the confetti bedazzled winebottle fishnet thingummy, which really should be on Regretsy, except it appears also to be mass-produced, because I guess the masses want their booze to look more Kardashian.

When one puts “wine” together with “confetti” the above is not acceptable (unless, of course, one is gifting someone to celebrate her victory at America’s Next Top Ecdysiast). The following IS:

A handblown Italian wineglass. It’s just special enough to make an al fresco afternoon a little more exciting. And I like a fairly substantial glass for drinking wine outdoors. It just feels more medieval to me, as if Jonathan Rhys Meyers or Alan Rickman might show up on a horse and join me for a glass. And what is the point of being outside if they’re not going to, I ask? Rhetorically, of course: they wouldn’t show up without a proper invitation…now, do any of you have their emails?

Speaking of bad manners and bad ideas and wine, we present the following, tangentially-related video, one of a very amusing series on YouTube called My Drunk Kitchen. If you’ve watched every Sandra Lee show ever aired and are pining for something even more Out There, why, this girl has got you covered. Personally, I suspect that more than two bottles of bubbly were involved in the production of these “cookies,” and I’d like to know since when does YouTubing pay that much, but that is neither here nor there. Nor over there either.

So, here:

When your cooking project requires a spotter for safety reasons, maybe it’s time to order in.

With carefully chosen accompaniments, that is. If I served the wrong wine with human flesh, well, I’d just DIE!

Okay, who ordered the Tête de Jean-Baptiste?

Chianti, yes. Fava beans, no.

I’m not talking out of my toque here: I’ve surveyed professional winemakers of my acquaintance and studied the literature:

This Chilean/Israeli/Danish artist did not specify what wine he served at the dinner party where he also served meatballs made of … himself. But still, we can assume a robust Chilean red would work best (I mean, have you tried Aquavit? Have you put it in your mouth???)

The Democratic Underground suggests that Chianti is overpowering, and a good dry Riesling is the right accompaniment, although this could reflect the fact that democrats are very often spend their lives in captivity, penned in tiny cubicles and behind espresso machines and the ticket-taking window of indie theatres and are thus analogous to veal.  And they die young: just ask the Kennedys.

In light of the fact that Japan’s (why is it always Japan? Eh?) flesh-tasting robot puts human flesh (although maybe only fingers…insert anthropomorphic musing about why we call them “chicken fingers” etc here…also, what part of the chicken is the “nugget” anyway? No, don’t go there) in the same category as prosciutto and bacon, we should go with these recommendations from the Sideways Wine Club and drink Pinot Noir or (yes) Chianti, or possibly a Syrah, Rhone or Zinfandel.

I had a sparkling Syrah once, and it was exactly like carbonated hemoglobin, so I think it would be perfect for any cannibal occasion. Indeed, bubbly of any kind lends a certain flair to an event that highlights its importance. After all, it’s not every day you eat human flesh. Presumably. Hufu for the vegetarians present, of course.

Best Facebook Thread EVER

As you can see, my expert friends suggest Pinot Noir (but then, they MAKE Pinot Noir) along with Hermitage or Grenache. Seriously, the younger the flesh, the whiter and less hemoglobular the wine should be, so for me (ferinstance) you’d want something as rich and old as Anna Nicole Smith’s last husband.

Now, about those fava beans…

Fava Beans share, along with liver and king mackerel, a certain dry umami flavour which renders them quite redundant when served alongside one another. If I have something that tastes a certain way, you know, thanks, I don’t need something that tastes pretty much the same sitting right beside it masquerading as something different. Yes, wines should be chosen to complement and extend, rather than contrast with the meal, but they’re much less likely to actually taste the same as the entree.

As for choosing the meat, other than selecting a young person who’s been confined to a cubicle his entire working life, I have no advice except that if you are going to eat human liver, perhaps you don’t want to choose Russian. Theirs are pretty much used up.

So, the next time you’re serving cutlets à la Salome, remember this post and serve something appropriate. If you get it wrong, you’ll never live it down.

Red Green

via CoffeeGeek