The Opposite Of Food Porn

In a move that suggests that Domino’s Pizza is now getting ideas for its menu from This Is Why You’re Fat, the delivery chain recently launched a line of Bread Bowl Pastas; which amount to a pile of “fuck you” to people on the Atkins diet (not to mention Italians and their culture.) 

These carb bombs are available in five different flavors and are no doubt delicious for people who believe that The Olive Garden sends its cooks to Tuscany to learn to cook. 

They also completely nullify the Italian concept of scarpetta (literally, “little shoe”), the ritualistic sweeping of the bowl with a crust of bread to pick up the remaining sauce at the bottom. When the bowl IS the bread, scarpetta is practically futile. Thanks again, Domino’s.

This latest dumbfounding invention brought to mind another gastronomical monstrosity, concocted by a multinational conglomerate to test the boundaries of good taste:

The KFC Famous Bowls - The Chicken & Biscuit Bowl starts with mashed potatoes, layered with sweet kernel corn and loaded with bite-size pieces of crispy chicken. Then it’s topped with homestyle white pepper gravy and sprinkled with a shredded three cheese blend. For the final touch, a buttermilk biscuit is tucked in the side. 

This sensory excercise in flavor distinction is aptly immortalized by Patton Oswalt as “a failure pile in a sadness bowl” in the clip below. 

By the way, I’ve just learned that Domino’s is giving away a free Bread Bowl Pasta from 11AM to 2PM tomorrow at participating stores, so make sure to carb up to the max, on the house! 

America Agrees: Guy Fieri Is Still A Douche

I would like to thank certified douche bag Guy Fieri for being the inspiration for Bazookaluca’s most viewed and sought-after post ever: No More Mr. Douche Guy.

Day after day, through his various vexatious Food Network shows and truly terrible T.G.I. Friday’s commercials, people all across America are directly exposed to Mr. Fieri’s douche-baggery and as a result, feel compelled to commiserate about it with other like-minded souls on the internet.

More often than not, they end up within these sympathetic pages.

And I am proud to offer sanctuary to these protectors of good taste for whom Googling the phrase “guy fieri douche” brings temporary relief and the reassurance that it’s still not socially acceptable to wear your sunglasses so casually on the back of your head without suffering severe repercussions.

So thanks, Guy, for directing traffic to my site. I don’t profit from it financially, per se, but I sleep a lot better at night knowing I’m not alone.

I am not alone.

Ad Nauseum

I watch several food-related shows (Top Chef, No Reservations with Anthony Bourdain, Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares, Iron Chef, etc.) and after a considerable amount of time, the number of food-as-sex analogies, metaphors and similes has finally reached critical mass for me.

Dishes are constantly being referred to as “sexy”, “orgasmic”, “arousing”, “sensual” or causing “an orgy of flavor in one’s mouth” –one chef even going as far as saying that his excitement for a dish resulted in a “culinary boner”.

I understand the correlation between the innate joys of eating and the carnal pleasures of sex, but I’m also very keen to when an expression becomes a trite cliché, depleted of its originality or strength of meaning. This is one of those cases.

Plus, I don’t want a sweaty, overweight, snaggle-toothed British chef to serve me his “sex on a plate”. Keep that shit to yourself, mate. Pish posh, pop around the block, and piss off, tosser!

Let’s find more original analogies for food, shall we?

May I perhaps suggest comparing your mélange of lobster and artichokes with fresh walnuts and foie gras caramelized in quince jelly to Leonard Cohen’s New Skin For The Old Ceremony album? It’s a classic, refined and gratifying, while concurrently expunging presumption with its congenial timelessness.

No?

All right……

No More Mr. Douche Guy

The Food Network has spawned a multitude of odious personalities over the years. Rachael Ray’s irksome spunk. Bobby Flay’s pompous arrogance. Even Giada De Laurentiis’ bountiful breasts managed to get tiresome after a while. But their latest addition takes the proverbial cake:

That’s right. Guy Fieri.

This dude has no redeeming values whatsoever. He can’t cook, has no palate, and seems to be reduced to eating BBQ and hamburgers all over the country as if that has cultural relevance. What’s worst is that he was chosen to be the Next Food Network Star by winning a popular vote on the show (another reason people shouldn’t be trusted to vote, as stated in my previous blog).

His sense of style is perhaps his most questionable trait. He’s always wearing some sort of bowler shirt, cargo shorts, sandals, an armband and the kind of dragon/skull-inspired jewelry they only sell to misguided goths at Hot Topic. He has spiky bleached hair and a sculpted goatee and always has a pair of sunglasses resting backwards on the back of his fat head.

Dreadful. Truly dreadful.

If you see him on the street or at your local burger joint, please kick him in the nuts for me.

An Open Letter To Ethnic Food Marketers

Now, let me preface my little rant with this…

Those who know me, or have been to a restaurant with me, are familiar with my self-imposed culinary restrictions and lack of sense of adventure towards new foods. Yes, my diet is largely composed of complex carbohydrates and yes, I’ve eaten more potatoes than your average Irishman. I don’t eat meat, fish or anything that would probably break me of my girlish figure. I’m aware of this and I’m fine with it.

You might say that because of this I don’t have a foot to stand on the subject of culinary critique. However, you should also be aware by now that I expect the highest quality of ingredients and the best method of preparation of the few things I do eat. I can be quite critical of even the simplest dish if the ingredients aren’t done justice. In my mind, a poorly prepared dish, either because of substandard ingredients or inaccurate doneness, doesn’t deserve to be eaten. Food should always be enjoyable and a source of great pleasure and never just something to fill your stomach until the next meal. And this my friends, is the basic Italian philosophy towards eating. A philosophy that I embrace fully and hence gives me the right to rant about the following subject.

I’m talking about the continued proliferation and immensely popular mass marketing of “authentic” Italian food products by American restaurant chains.

As an Italian I am forced to take a stand against this cultural injustice and set the record straight. You’ve heard me cringe at Olive Garden commercials as they repeatedly use old Italian stereotypes to pimp their new “genius” comestible concoctions. You’ve also probably been on the receiving end of one of my lectures about how there’s no such thing as Alfredo sauce in Italy and how it’s purely an American invention. I’m sorry, I can’t help it. If you were in Germany and someone told you that David Hasselhoff represented the essence of American rock music you’d have to set them straight, wouldn’t you? So when I see a Wendy’s commercial for their new “Frescata Italiana sandwich” I have to vent about how there’s no such word in the Italian language and nobody’s ever heard of Genoa salami and what the fuck does Wendy’s know about Italian food anyway?!?

It’s just the latest of completely fabricated “authentic” Italian dishes. Jack In The Box came out with the “Panido” sandwiches a while back which I guess was supposed to be their take on an Italian panino, which by the way just means sandwich…any kind of sandwich (I guess a peanut butter and jelly panino doesn’t really fool anyone into thinking they’re ordering something even mildly exotic). It’s a slap in the face to anyone who knows better.

Pizza Hut constantly does this too, like they haven’t completely destroyed the concept of pizza already. They just came out with their new “Sicilian Lasagna Pizza”. First of all, lasagna is mostly a Northern Italian dish so I don’t know what the hell it has to do with Sicily which is the Southern-most point of Italy. It’s just something you would never see anywhere in Italy. And have you seen the commercial for it?! It’s just insulting. And I don’t get insulted easily; just ask my friends who habitually call me a wop to my face. I’ve got thick skin but when I see a large corporation perpetuating tired stereotypes it sickens me. They should know better.

What’s even worst is when a restaurant is trying to pass off that they’re “authentic” Italian and they mispell or misuse words on the menu. Mafiosa’s in Nashville has something like eight mispelled words on their menu. Can’t they take the time to make sure that at least they spell shit right? I mean they’re gonna fuck up the food, but at least they could spell it right on the menu. They could run it by the Italian professor right up the street at Belmont University, probably for free. That’s all it takes.

And I know that the notion that anything can be authentic without being consumed at the spot of origin is dubious but that’s precisely why these restaurant chains should change their marketing approach. Just say that you made the shit up and market it as Italian-inspired but completely made in America. And stop using Italian stereotypes as your spokepersons.

The thing that gets me about those stereotypes is that they’re using early 20th Century Southern Italian stereotypical behavior so it’s not even accurate or comprehensive of the whole nation. You want more accurate and up-to-date stereotypes? There’s a bunch. Italians are mostly neurotic, fad-obsessed and love their cell phones. Those aren’t as fun but at least they’re more encompassing of the inhabitants of my country.

But whatever. I should’ve expected it from a country full of cowboys who love war, guns and hamburgers and whose hobbies include hoe-downs, Dukes of Hazzard car shows and flag saluting. I mean, that encompasses all of you right? I just wish I didn’t enjoy The Sopranos so much…damn, that’s a good show!