Restaurants on the Bleeding Edge

by Kenshin

I had the misfortune to suffer through two dinners worth of liberal food in a row. No longer content merely with ruining America, now liberals have gotten their morally reprehensible claws into your dinner.

Now wait a minute, you’re thinking—-food is an inanimate object (even barbecue, after you kill it). How can food have a political bent? Just what is liberal food, you ask?

Glad to tell you.

Liberal food combines ingredients that shouldn’t even exist within the same zip code, much less on the same plate. Onions and vanilla do not taste good together, but liberals insist on forcing concoctions like that upon the unsuspecting public. Some vegetables can be enjoyed raw. Take carrots, for instance. These good-for-raw-consumption vegetables, however, do not include asparagus and beets, unless you happen to be a bovine or a hippie.

Nor is chicken meant to be sashimi. Hello central, salmonella calling!

Years ago, at a posh place out in the Hamptons, I was served a chicken breast that was still trying to escape from the plate. The staff had stabbed it through the heart with a hefty stake of rosemary in a vain attempt to get it to lie there quietly and stop bleeding.

That should have been a warning to me.

See, what these leftist chefs and restaurateurs are saying through their “creations” is: Reality and tradition mean nothing to us (not to mention palates).

Coconut in salsa. Raw trout in ice cream. Horse’s hooves stuffed with mustard sorbet and swamp mud. These are just some of the other delicacies that litter the menu of liberal (sometimes also known as “hip” and “cutting edge”) restaurants.

So what they do then is attempt to disguise the food by presenting it in a “different” and “unusual” and “hip” and “cutting edge” manner. Just like every other foo-foo restaurant on the face of the planet.

They do this to disguise the fact that it tastes like crap, much in the same way that liberals attempt to disguise their crappy socialist political message by wrapping it up in pretty entitlement packages and calling it “Something other than the vile disease of socialism.”

That’s pretty much what they do with their food. When you need a paragraph to name a dish, you know you’re in one of Those restaurants.

Then they either stack it so high on the plate it needs clearance from ground control, or they bury things under other things, like hiding your raw asparagus under some squished peyote and a slab of semi-raw chicken.

And then they decorate it with an empty lobster shell.

And expect you to like it.

Not only like it, but approve of it via your wallet and a check that would buy dinner for eight at your local neighborhood pizzeria.

Come to think of it, you’d be much better off at Joe’s Pizza Joint, where they have never heard of mustard sorbet, and the most complicated item on the menu is a green salad. Served flat. On a plate. With the dressing over it. They way God meant it to be.

—The Sword Heart Scrolls, copyright 2k6