Shut Up, Foodies!

This has been making the internerd rounds, and I gotta say – I remember each and every one of these sandwiches with extreme fondness.

PS. Lookin’ at you, Neverending Story. xoxo

Despite our “in” last year, The Beard Foundation has awarded Ruth Bourdain a grand dame humor writing award.  Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.

Found here.

Photo from The New York Times

Rush hour or not, I daresay the L train is probably the least likely place I’d want to participate in (a) eating and (b) a showy NYT-covered stunt.  But they did one, and it looks like I’m not alone in thinking it wasn’t a great idea:

There was no sign of the police or even a conductor, but officials at the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, reached on Monday, were not amused. “A dinner party on the L train?” said Charles F. Seaton, a spokesman for the authority. “No. Subway trains are for riding, not for holding parties.”

If you have had the pleasure of living off the L train in the past 5 years, you’ve also had the pleasure of experiencing Williamsburg’s overpopulation problem’s finest side effect:  not being able to get on the damn train.  I would actually find it extremely funny to see what would happen to a party like this at 8:30am at Lorimer, but of course I love a good riot.

PS.  I wonder what grade this would receive from the health department?

There is a tumblr simply entitled, Monkeys Eating Bacon.  Oh. No.  Oh no no no.  Not the monkeys too!

I’ve been spending my morning reading the tumblr <15%, an informative, snarky, angry blog about being stiffed as a delivery guy.  The funny thing is, people have been submitting feedback in droves and WOW, I had no idea my neighborhood + the neighboring neighborhood = complete asshats when it comes to tipping!  No wonder the delivery guy always looks so pleased when I tip 30%!

The crowd goes wild for pan-seared ramps and garlic pastry puff concubine salad!

The NYT reports that sports bars are pulling out all the stops and providing highbrow, foodie-esque dining options:

The food is from-scratch, fresh and even locavore. Behold, then, the Springer Mountain free-range chicken from north Georgia proudly referenced on the menu of Dantanna’s Surf and Turf in the Buckhead neighborhood of Atlanta — along with Creekstone and Allen Brothers beef and Niman Ranch pork. Note the butternut squash bisque at the Hype Lounge, and that roasted brussels sprouts side at the Ainsworth, both in Manhattan. Then meditate on Emeril Lagasse’s steak BAM’Wich at his Lagasse’s Stadium in Las Vegas: grilled sirloin on herb focaccia dressed with blue-cheese slaw and balsamic-braised onions, served with truffle-Parmesan steak fries.

Most of this makes sense, yeah, ok – sports fans are foodies, etc. I love chicken wings and hot dogs and beer too. What I do *not* understand is the butternut squash bisque. I cannot possibly see how that sounds appealing to someone who is gearing up for a rowdy, athletic night. YEAH! WE’LL GET PITCHERS AND WINGS AND SOME FRIES! Then Lilith speaks up, “You mean frites.  And I’ll just have the butternut squash bisque. Is that locally-sourced butternut squash by the way?”

My favorite quote:

Alert customers certainly appreciate the effort.

Because those that are passed out in the back? Not so much.

NPR reports on how the US is a little bit late to overhaul school lunches yesterday, and provides an awesome slideshow of who’s got what & where. (London’s makeover is extremely impressive)

Gratuitous picture of my lunch

Oh, this is why.  Because our lunches look like crap.

I know I’m not alone in thinking this is fascinating.