Fancy eatin’ you here

It won’t be the first time someone has said this: Anthony Bourdain done fucked everything up. This guy swoops in with his beaver teeth and his Just for Men: Touch of Gray hairdo and boom, everyone is a food snob. And they write about it. Food snob, foodie, foodophile, pretentious prick, whatever you want to call them. And I’m over here wondering where all the Long John Silvers went.

You know where they went? The way of the buffalo, my friends. And it happened almost immediately after Regular Joe Douchebag demanded an amuse bouche between courses of microgreens and endangered jackalope braised with the tears of baby anteaters. Dude.

What the hell is an amuse bouche anyway? It sounds like two craptastic 90s hit-making machines had a baby. And it tasted like shit. If I wanted to cleanse my palate between courses, I’d take a shot of Rumpleminz.

All of a sudden it is trashy and distasteful to enjoy Red Lobster from time to time. Red Lobster?! So now I have to hole up in an underground bunker with my Cheddar Bay Biscuits and my Admiral’s Feast? Sparring with feelings of shame and compunction instead of reveling in the glory that is a plate full of battered and deep fried chum? I reject this new world, Bourdainites! You can take your Belle & Sebastian record and plate of imported cheeses straight to Jos. A. Bank.

And what’s with all the food foam these days? Avocado foam, salmon foam, pee foam. Well, I just made up pee foam but the other ones are legit. Foam to me does not sound appetizing. Nobody has ever said, ‘mmmm…foam’. The only thing I want to use foam for is to create a slick surface for my razor to shear the hair off my legs every few months.

In other news, if I learned today that there is conclusive, incontrovertible evidence that Portillo’s uses nothing but shoes and raccoons to manufacture their hot dogs, it still would not stop me from eating the shit out of those things. And maybe, just maybe, this alone will qualify me as a sophisticated and adventurous diner, a food snob if you will. Well call me Padma Mother Fuckin’ Lakshmi!

I’m really not this hateful. I believe everyone should eat what they love and not be ashamed. Just make sure you Instagram the shit out of that food so everyone knows just how refined your palate is. Keep it classy, folks. Dick Portillo, 2016!