Confession time:I think I might be a yuppie. Or, like, a Jewish yuppie. A Juppie? Yeah, sure.
You know the scenes in American Psycho where they're all talking about these ridiculous foods and restaurants? Dorsia? Barcadia? "Great sea urchin ceviche." See, I laugh at those scenes like you're supposed to. But secretly, I REALLY want to go to town on some sea urchin ceviche. The word "emulsion" gets me wet. "Black truffle reduction?" Shit, I'm 4/5ths already. Last night I had crispy shrimp tempura with soy mayonnaise and chives followed by a steamed branzino in ponzu sauce with scallions. Not too fancy, but you should've seen the presentation. And it was delicious.
I don't like the word "foodie." Everyone likes food. I prefer "Juppie snob." "Foodie" is just another one of those words we substitute in because we don't like the word "snob." Like "hipster" or "Democrat" or "Upper-middle class." We should just say fuck it and be like "hey, I'm a food snob." Or "hey, I'm an everything snob." What kind of bullshit is a "foodie"? I saw someone put that on their resume. Seriously. If you call yourself a foodie, guess what, you're not. Y ou're just someone who can afford nice restaurants. I'm one of these people, by the way, I just don't call myself a foodie. EVERYONE is a foodie. You think people would rather eat shitty food? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. We would all rather eat at Le Bernardin and The Palm every night. But we can't. So fuck you.
And pass the white truffle risotto with raspberry emulsion.
I like "elitist." It is simple and to-the-point.
ReplyDeleteI second that emulsion.
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And then you have the kind of reverse snobbery that dictates hungover rhapsodies on the "genius" or "artistry" of Shake Shack and/or the "new"/"interesting" cut of bacon found at your local Brooklyn-based charcuterie, which even went to the trouble to recommend a sumptuous craft bourbon, distilled by a couple of full-sleeve-tattoo-sporting Dirty Projector worshippers in Fedoras, with which to pair it. I'm not saying I disapprove or anything, except that I do and would hate myself interminably were I to eat/listen to/befriend any of those things. Except for the bourbon.
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