This papardelle is so authentic it reminds me of the tiny little Italian village my wife and I read about online.

The Hollandaise sauce was so whimsically delicious I found myself constantly wiping it from my chins.

I was going to say this food tastes like regurgitated plastic, but you studied under Ferran Adria? Best thing I ever ate.

Foreclosed? Bummer. Let me cheer you up with a 10-page word-topiary about my 14-course meal Le Cirque New York.

With everyone seated in the modern chairs, a delightful, faint crackle fills the gastropub. Tailbone sharding is surprisingly musical.

"Rustic cuisine" means it's been picked up by a human hand, squeezed like a teenage boy let loose at his first boob, and dumped a'plate.

These warm beignets are heavenly. Because they're warm and sugary, sure. But mostly because I get shit like this for free.

Lunch is the safe, predictable meal you marry. Dinner is the meal you let stick a high-heel into your back while it calls you names.

Unable to fuck like bunnies during lunch, we eat like them. #salad

If you send a bottle of free booze to curry favor, I become very offended while drinking it.

The chef's pork belly is a holy communion of fat, succulent-sweet dark meat, crackly skin and I want to stick my penis in it.

Don't worry. When I come to your house I don't judge your home cooking. I judge your choice in life partners.

Grilling Tip: Chicken is a lean protein that can dry out. To prevent that, wear an apron with a funny saying about your penis.

My safe word is “mouthfeel.”

My wife and I like to do missionary style. She lies down and I ride a bicycle around the room in a white shirt and black tie.

Get tested before you plant your seed, urban farmers. npr.org/blogs/thesalt/…

Blood moon shot down by crips.

Blood moon. There's a cream for that.

European futbol has basically been playing "just the tip" with the American market for the last 50 years.

For birthdays, a discerning gourmand has a dancer pop out of a giant croquembouche. D Software