Vagina Blogatta

a big hole with teeth, it is the mouth of a creature from star wars

It’s possible I’m not good at writing snappy headlines anymore but you guys, remember when food stuff was way more INDIE and AUTHENTIC? A former Grub Street editor does!

As late as the mid -’90s, small, weird restaurants were the exclusive purview of a few zines and newsletters, like Jim Leff’s “Chowhound” and Robert Sietsema’s “Down the Hatch.” But in the long run, these small and agile mammals outran the immense, omnipotent beasts who ruled the forest.

I’m not really sure what Jurassic Park has to do with it, but no one cool ate anything in the 90s, dude. I guess he has bigger things to worry about:

I’ve been in a bad marriage, survived a doctoral program, suffered obsessive episodes requiring medication, lived with a girlfriend who worked as an escort, struggled to keep a business afloat, been in tax trouble and written nine books—and I have never felt the kind of pressure I did when I was helming Grub Street.

MY GOD. I won’t quote any more but you should read it, if only for the laugh you will produce when he mentions a “journalistic sarlacc.”

Appetite for Destruction

an egg with writing on it, the writing is an omelet recipe

The brilliant minds at Slash Food loved this gimmicky egg with an omelet recipe on it but failed to mention the obvious flaw—once you break the egg and start cooking, the recipe is gone.

That said, more things should come with tips on how to kill them.

Sometimes We Hate Being Right

…because this is so wrong.

headline that reads "failed backyard farms lead to growing number of homeless animals"

Breaking news: people suck.

You should read the whole thing, but here is a choice excerpt:

The Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary gets weekly calls from people looking for new homes for their roosters, goats and other animals. Founded in 2004 with just a few chickens and a rooster, today the 23-acre refuge in Woodstock, N.Y., is home to more than 200 animals. While most of them are the result of investigations into farms and slaughterhouses, “a surprising number” are rescued “from the streets of New York City,” according to the sanctuary’s website.
“We get calls all the time from people who don’t want their animals or can’t afford them. We get emails about roosters found in the city or goats being neglected or pigs that are going to be killed if we don’t take them,” says Elana Kirshenbaum, programs coordinator at Woodstock.
As the local food movement takes hold and urban homesteading gains popularity, more people are giving backyard farming a try. The prospect of fresh eggs and milk inspires them to bring home adorable chicks and goats — but when chicks grow into roosters or goats begin eating the landscaping, these animals are often given to animal sanctuaries or simply abandoned.

As luck would have it, I’m heading up to a different farm sanctuary in May, and you better believe I’m going to bring some printouts and see if I can get those damn animals riled up enough to start a movement.  I’m pretty sure Elliott, a badass goat who escaped a meat market in Brooklyn, is ready to get Orwellian. (Remember it was Muriel the goat who could read and figured everything out.)

The One Person We Wanted to Keep Talking

Andy Rooney, an old white man with bushy eyebrows, in a suit and tie, sitting at a desk with books behind him.

 

As you all know, we here at Shut Up Foodies consider Mr. Andy Rooney to be our patron saint and trailblazer in vaguely angry social commentary. (Our other patron saints are Charles Dickens, Flo Kennedy, and Al Flipside. Actually those are mine. Meatball’s are irrelevant because she is still asleep.)

 

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Honestly, “What’s wrong with coffee-flavored coffee?” is as trenchant and relevant today as it was when he first said it 200 years ago. Or was it 150? Anyway, we were supremely flattered to have been compared to him once, even though it was by someone who says “meh.”

Only Andy would take the time to expose this nutrage and be so focused on his truth that he completely does not die laughing saying “nuts” over and over. (Note that he takes the time to get English Major on Planter’s ass and explain the difference between “less” and “fewer.” Zap!)

 

 

I’m glad we took the time to honor Andy with things like Andy Rooney Friday back when he was alive and we still cared about and updated this blog. I’m sure for him heaven is full of mixed nuts and rainbows, as it should be.

Get Some Skin in the Game

This is hands down the MOST DISGUSTING THING EVER and I am including a lot of shitty blog commenters on that EVER. Every single person in this story on chicken skin, which includes a discussion of “skinwiches” and chicken skin tacos (OH THE JOKES), should be forced to wear this mask, which is made of chicken skin and available, of course, on Etsy.

A mask of a human face that is made from chicken skin and is disgusting

In other news, our hero, Andy Rooney is retiring. His first piece for television, back in 1964, was “An Essay on Doors.” A brilliancy.

It is grosser even than the above mask which is made of chicken skin and being sold on ebay.