New cars, one smell

Since I’m so stingy with my praise, I really wish I could link to both the best examples of food writing in the last week. Roger Ebert takes the genre to a whole other level with his essay on living with nil by mouth/nutrition by tube, here. But you’ll have to take it on faith that AA Gill, whom I’d sworn off after he decided to shoot a simian for sport, crafted something spectacular in weaving together appreciation for the vital art of food writing and a deft takedown of a new restaurant in an old hotel. A friend in London sneaked me behind the antichrist’s paywall by scanning a copy to savor, but it will die online. At least I could pass it on by email to my cheese pal, who culled the same two nuggets I did: The misspelling of Brillat-Savarin was forgiven once you hit the description of omelets “as smooth as a porn star’s scrotum.”