Cupcake for one

“Bridesmaids” was worth my consort’s $26 for two for the alimentary canal lessons alone. There’s a reason Trump’s mouth makes you want to look away, and not south. But when the fat sister of the groom erupts after Brazilian (food, not wax) and can’t determine from which end, you realize why writing about food is such an ephemeral pursuit. Chick-fil-A or foie gras, it all comes out the same.