People kept emailing me links to the sous vide of the Bitterman, and I first responded with tame thoughts like “everyone involved needs to take a Silkwood shower.” But then I started thinking maybe the food coven is not so bad after all — the circle jerk is demonstrably more despicable. If the guy’s a douche bag (I’d go with scumbag, myself), why even show up at an event for him? Taint is not just a body part. It’s communicable.
Lastly, I’m quite happy I had some time to let the Bitterman saga stew and then cool, because I might have been intemperate in my first reaction – and any good cook knows how revenge should be served. So: No jerk who emails lying insults should be offended when he gets digitally slapped on the ass. The only mystery is why he spread his alleged injury so far and so wide. Personally, I don’t want to know.
My consort went to NOLA for 10 days and all I got was a clutch of magazines and menus, plus a baffled look at my wondering whether he smelled the oil geyser. As bad as it is, apparently it’s still a long way from stinking up the magic city. But he did taste the future, and it was meat. About the only fish he encountered was halibut, which is not from around there. Maybe it’s no coincidence that nose-to-tail eating has taken off so wildly in the last few years. With no seafood fit to eat, we’ll need all the offal we can get. At least it will be safe for the Bitterman. He won’t have to worry about getting flummoxed by speckled trout again.
More proof that you can polish a turd long enough to make a zircon: Every time the latest pizza silliness came up, the number of awards from Enron on 12th Street was trotted out as evidence of the seriousness of the authority tackling the impossible. Consider the source. Friends do let friends self-delude.