The New York Times reveals who ran the parody Twitter account for the last 3 years
Shocker; could Twitter handle @RuthBourdain be over? The New York Times reports that the Food Section blogger Josh Friedland has "come out" as the voice behind the parody Twitter account, which combined Ruth Reichl's poetic prose with Anthony Bourdain's sense of humor for brash, hilarious food tweets for the last three years.
According to The Times, a message from @RuthBourdain promised an "exclusive reveal," saying, "It’s going to be you or asylum in Venezuela."
The message turned out to be Josh Friedland, who had been running the Twitter account since conception, The Times reports. "I never thought the joke would go on so long," Friedland told The Times. "But the food world has become so ripe for satire in the time since I started it."
Past reports had suspected Friedland as the writer, as well as former Village Voice critic Robert Sietsema. Funnily enough, the Ruth Bourdain Twitter account is still continuing its game, tweeting first "WTF" with a link to The New York Times article, followed by a tweet to the Food Section, saying, "You? Really? I still think I'm Robert Sietsema."
So whether you choose to believe The New York Times and Friedland, or a cheeky Twitter account, is your choice. Friedland, in the meantime, has not said anything about whether he will continue with the joke, but Sietsema did say to The Times, "It's about time... there's nowhere to go with the joke." Burn.
What's harder than deciding which cookbook to buy? Deciding which cookbook to review. In Sunday's Observer, I picked four (for the record, I didn't suggest my own book, "Pecans: A Savor the South Cookbook" - writer Pam Kelley made that decision).
In Wednesday's Food section, fellow writer Andrea Weigl and I named our seven picks. But we knew that it wouldn't be enough and that we both would have our own favorites. So here are a half-dozen more that are my picks, plus a recap of the ones we're already suggested.
Even Santa should be able to find something to cook:
Comfort Me With Offal, by Ruth Bourdain (Andrews McMeel, $19.99). Will the real Ruth Bourdain please not stand up? The joke is more fun if we never know who is behind the food-writing parody "Ruth Bourdain" - a mashup of impossibly elegant Ruth Reichl and always profane Anthony Bourdain. RB started as a Twitter account, but the book stretches the joke past 140 characters. It's a sendup of foodie-world pretensions, like a guide to "nose to tail" eating that includes probiscus monkeys and a chart to decide if you're a celebrity chef ("does the inside of a QVC studio feel homey?") Rock on, Ruth, whoever you are.
"Southern Comfort," by Allison Vines-Rushing and Slade Rushing (Ten Speed Press, $35). Both chefs who moved back to Louisiana after a foray in New York, the Rushings are unabashed lovers of bold, hearty, homey Southern cooking. These are the kind of recipes you'd make on a Sunday afternoon when you want to hang out with a bunch of friends and eat something good.
"Fred Thompson's Southern Sides" (UNC Press, $35). Sometimes the side dishes are the best things on the plate. Raleigh food writer Thompson pulls from his family history and his own extensive experience for these 250 recipes. (Disclosure: Fred and I both have books from UNC Press.)
"Burma: Rivers of Flavor," by Naomi Duguid (Artisan, $35). I wrote a column about Duguid's Burma trek earlier this year, but her cookbook is definitely worth a deeper look. For global eaters, it's an exploration of a cuisine that is still a surprise, with a range of new flavors and techniques.
"Sinfully Easy Delicious Desserts: Quicker Smarter Recipes," by Alice Medrich (Artisan, $25.95). Medrich has always been one of our most innovative and creative food writers. She's not a baker so much as someone who loves all things sweet and knows how to lead your tastebuds in new paths.
"How to Cook Everything: The Basics," by Mark Bittman (Wiley, $35). Every year, I get questions about which book to buy for a beginning cook. This would be an excellent choice: It has more than 1,000 photos, including steps, and like his earlier "Everything" books, the recipes are accessible without being dumb. You can start here and learn enough to go a long way in the kitchen.
RECAP: What else have we suggested?
"Bouchon Bakery," by Thomas Keller and Sebastien Rouxel (Artisan, $50).
"Fire in My Belly: Real Cooking," by Kevin Gillespie with David Joachim (Andrews McMeel, $40).
"Pecans: A Savor the South Cookbook," by Kathleen Purvis (UNC Press, $18).
"Buttermilk: A Savor the South Cookbook," by Debbie Moose (UNC Press, $18).
"Mastering the Art of Southern Cooking," by Nathalie Dupree and Cynthia Graubert (Gibbs Smith, $45).
"Great Meat Cookbook," by Bruce Aidells (Houghton Mifflin, $40).
"Barefoot Contessa Foolproof," by Ina Garten (Clarkson Potter, $35).
"Fix It & Freeze It, Heat It & Eat It," by Southern Living (Oxmoor House, $19.95).
"The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook," by Deb Perelman (Knopf, $35).
"Japanese Farm Food," by Nancy Singleton Hachisu (Andrews McMeel, $35).
"Flour Water Salt Yeast," by Ken Forkish (Ten Speed Press, $35).
Recipes to Swear By: ‘Thug Kitchen’ Founders Want You to Eat Your Goddamn Veggies
June 15, 2020 update: In response to nationwide protests against systemic racism and police violence – and nearly six years after Bryant Terry first criticized the term “Thug Kitchen,” the group announced they are in the process of changing their name to “widen the table in our country’s conversation around food” and to “reflect inclusivity and empathy.”
“In cooking you’ve got to have a what-the-hell attitude.” The opening quote of the Thug Kitchen Cookbook: Eat Like You Give a F*ck may sound like it was pulled straight from the blog’s expletive-laden homepage. But it’s actually a quote from Julia Child, originator of kitchen irreverence and inspiration to whimsical cooks worldwide. Child was one of the first cooks to encourage her audience to truly start from scratch in the kitchen, encouraging those with few skills to step up to the stove. The co-founders of the popular website Thug Kitchen (TK) use a millennial approach to this same philosophy–taken to the extreme.
“This is a fucking wake-up call,” the book announces in its introduction. “Skipping breakfast is not only lazy, but that shit is detrimental to your health,” it reads later. Part recipe blog, part aggressively straightforward advice column, Thug Kitchen is never shy. And their fans–over 500,000 on Facebook alone–eat it up.
Michelle Davis and Matt Holloway didn’t start Thug Kitchen in August 2012 to become famous. They had, in fact, been anonymous until just last week, when Epicurious revealed their identities to the world. Anonymity is an unusual choice in the world of food blogging—with the notable exception of Ruth Bourdain—as so many blogs are built around the personalities of their creators. But Davis and Holloway chose to remain anonymous even after Thug Kitchen picked up steam, when a rave review from Gwenyth Paltrow in 2013 dramatically expanded their audience.
“We’re really proud of all the hard work we’ve put into the site, but we didn’t start it to self-promote,” explains Davis. “So when it got popular, we just kept it the way it always had been.”
Thug Kitchen’s premise is that cooking isn’t hard, but it helps to build basic skills. “We wanted to show people that eating healthy can be done, but you do have to put in some effort,” says Davis. The authors encourage readers with a mix of crude tough love and bold empowerment. For example, the first lines of a whole-wheat pancake recipe in the cookbook read: “Serve these warm with legit maple syrup (none of that fake-ass corn syrup) and some fresh fruit on the side. You know how to eat a fucking pancake. Makes about 12 pancakes, which you can freeze and eat wheneverthefuck you want.”
“We wanted to write this site the way we would speak it,” Holloway says of the blog’s tone, which prioritizes vulgarity and emphatic use of capitalization. Davis adds, “I can read a boring cookbook but most people can’t and don’t want to. We wanted to make it funny and a good experience for the reader. We like to walk that line between food writing and comedy writing. And we think the word ‘fuck’ is funny.”
When it comes to the creative energy behind the site, Davis and Holloway have complementary skills. Davis is the primary recipe developer, while Holloway does all the photography. “Cooking had always been a hobby of mine,” says Davis. “I was a passionate home cook, and I worked in grocery stores for about eight years. I was around food all day, talking about food all day. But it can be really difficult when you work in jobs like that, where healthy eating is promoted, and you can’t easily afford the lifestyle.”
Thug Kitchen is sensitive to its audience’s tendency toward frugality, suggesting healthy recipes with as few pricy, exotic ingredients as possible. And in the TK world, healthy also means vegan. But a quick glance through the cookbook or the site’s recipe index provides no immediate evidence that the site avoids animal products. There’s no proselytizing, no weight loss stories, no scary pictures of factory farms. And that’s the whole point–-to bring people into the fold, not shut them out.
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As for Holloway, this is his first foray into food photography. “I come from frozen pizza land,” he says with a laugh. “I’m new to the vegan and health food world.” He was trying to make that transition just like many of Thug Kitchen’s readers. The cookbook’s photography is vivid and direct, much like the tone of the writing. Interspersed between recipes are pictures of smiling, tattooed friends, cityscapes, and Holloway’s dog. “We wanted the book to feel like the environment that is our life,” explains Davis.
Holloway and Davis’s step into the spotlight has not been without complication. After their identities were revealed, readers and critics asked some hard questions about whether it was insensitive for two white bloggers to run–and profit from–a brand that regularly invokes the word ‘thug.’ Some had assumed the site was run by one or more black bloggers, given its invocation of “thuggish” vernacular (an assumption that itself is somewhat dangerous, as noted by prominent writer Roxane Gay).
The word “thug” carries a heavy racial connotation, especially since Richard Sherman, the Seattle Seahawks cornerback, commented in January that the media labeled him as one after a grandiose outburst because “it’s the accepted way of calling somebody the N-word nowadays.” Popular news site The Root, which reports on issues important to African-American communities, labeled Thug Kitchen “a recipe in blackface.”
“We understand that ‘thug’ is a loaded word, and it has only become more loaded in the last year and a half,” says Davis, when asked about the recent critique. But beyond that acknowledgement, neither author appears very interested in engaging their critics. “The site is about being a badass in the kitchen. We’re about verbally abusing people into eating their goddamn vegetables,” she adds.
Plus, this kind of pushback is nothing new for the two seasoned bloggers. “We’ve been on the Internet for two and a half years,” says Holloway. “Almost everything we post, we get someone emailing us saying, ‘I fucking hate lentils!’”
Why the Sudden Frenzy to Unmask Ruth Bourdain?
Yesterday brought déjà vu all over again. Almost two weeks after a reporter claimed that the anonymous, unisex Twitter entity Ruth Bourdain was Village Voice critic Robert Sietsema, The Feast’s Ben Leventhal asserted that it was, appropriately, the combined effort of two food writers.
“Here’s a new one,” Leventhal wrote. “Josh Friedland and Adam Robb are collectively Ruth Bourdain.” Both Friedland, who blogs at The Food Section, and Robb, creator of the Fake Restaurant Girl Twitter feed, have, of course, denied it.
What’s most remarkable about the whole saga—aside from how dependably and witheringly funny a Twitter feed can be—is that La Bourdain’s identity has remained a secret for so long. Since March 2010, when Ruth Bourdain first mated Ruth Reichl’s effete ruminations with Anthony Bourdain’s routine profanities, the source of the tweets has been a favored guessing game even the James Beard Foundation’s decision to bestow the Twitter feed with its first-ever humor award failed to smoke out the perpetrator.
Maybe the reason RuBo has remained a mystery for so long lies in the nature of food writing itself. Like any other subgenre of the journalism world, food writers are clannish, incestuous, and prone to gossip. But unlike, say, investigative reporters or war correspondents, we suffer a certain lack of real, ground-shifting drama—the news that Keith McNally is opening another restaurant isn’t quite on par with, say, the death of Moammar Gadhafi. Ruth Bourdain is the closest we’ve ever come to having our very own Deep Throat. So why spoil the fun?
Perhaps coincidentally, this renewed speculation about Ruth Bourdain’s identity dovetails with the question of who will succeed Sam Sifton, who earlier this week wrote his final dispatch as the New York Times’ restaurant critic. “I’m sitting on the edge of my seat wondering who the next Times restaurant critic will be,” Robert Sietsema wrote last month after Sifton announced he was stepping down from his post. And so is just about everyone else in the food world—we may as well be waiting for presidential election results. (Again, we are food writers. We take our intrigue where we can find it.) On Wednesday, Eater reported that a number of reputable sources had fingered the New Orleans Times-Picayune’s Brett Anderson as the heir to the throne, something Anderson would neither confirm nor deny.
Aside from timing, both mysteries have one thing in common: They highlight one of the central ironies of social media. Conventional logic says that as the conversation grows louder and more insistent, it connects and reveals us to one another, and makes us all feel like we’re part of something. But as Ruth Bourdain shows us, social media is even more effective at obscuring us from one another—if anything, it enables previously unseen levels of pretense. Just ask any chef who has his publicist routinely update his supposedly personal Twitter feed.
Plenty of people know who Ruth Bourdain is, just as it’s likely that plenty of people know who will replace Sam Sifton. But they’re not talking, which leaves everyone else to try to do it for them. Declaring Ruth Bourdain’s identity solved after seeing someone tweeting in a room full of food writers shows us that we’re all equally free to pursue our assumptions. The more compelling mystery lies in why so many of us continue to believe that social media is synonymous with conversational democracy.
Can this be the end of Ruth Bourdain? Six greatest tweets before she/he goes
We may not have heard the last of Ruth Bourdain. When Josh Friedland, the author of the long-running Twitter parody decloaked Thursday in the New York Times, some assumed he might be hanging it up for good. In fact, Friedman himself might have assumed that. But today he’s already having second thoughts. Much to the relief of tens of thousands of followers.
“I’m leaving my options open,” Friedland said from his home in Maplewood, N.J. “This [decloaking] wasn’t necessarily coupled with a plan to end it. On the other hand, I thought I’d just about done everything I could do with the character.
“I think I’ll probably just sit back a little bit and take in the reaction. A lot of people have written to me saying, ‘I hope you keep going.’ Of course, there’s also been a handful of people who have written saying, ‘I hope you die.’ I’m not going to take either too seriously.
“Honestly, the threshold for tweeting is extremely low. I could tell you in all seriousness that I’m not going to do it anymore, then in an hour something will hit me and I’ll do it again. I’m just not really sure.”
For years, the question of Ruth Bourdain’s true identity has been a popular parlor game for foodists. The posts were hilarious, a mash-up of former Gourmet editor Ruth Reichl’s poesy food haiku and popular bad-boy author and television star Anthony Bourdain’s fear-and-loathing-drenched rants. It was topped by a nightmare-inducing Photoshop mash-up of the two.
The tweets appeared as if out of the blue and proved almost instantly popular. The Ruth Bourdain Twitter account has more than 70,000 followers – numbers most writers would kill for (Friedland’s personal account, inactive since 2010, has only 300).
At one point, then-Village Voice restaurant critic Robert Sietsema was believed to be the author. Saintly Chez Panisse chef Alice Waters — known for many things before her sense of humor — once claimed to be the one (or at least someone on her Twitter account did). When Ruth Bourdain won a James Beard award in 2011, everyone waited to see who would accept. No one did.
“I stayed home and read the news on Twitter as I sat in my darkened daughter’s room putting her to sleep!” Friedland emailed.
Ruth Bourdain even got a book deal — something that the real Friedland is still working on. Last year “Comfort Me With Offal,” an expanded version of the tweets, was published to largely favorable reviews.
Then last week the seemingly mild-mannered author of the long-running food blog the Food Section stepped forward.
“The timing was right,” he says. “Until now I’d kept the secret to increase the interest in the character. There was an air of mystery around it. When I wrote the book, we weighed the options of revealing and not revealing. We finally decided not to go public because it would be a potential distraction from the book.
“This was never something I was going to take to my grave. The stakes are just not that high otherwise I’d be seeking asylum in a foreign country. At some point I was going to reveal it and now seemed like a good time.”
Now, Friedland says, he’s going to focus on reviving the Food Section, which he says he’s neglected while pursuing his freelance writing, the book, and his Twitter career.
But before he signs off entirely, even if only temporarily, here are his six favorite Ruth Bourdain tweets — at least of those that can be published on a family website.
I just got Gwyneth Paltrow’s new cookbook, and I have to say it’s very illuminating. That’s because I set it on fire. — Ruth Bourdain (@RuthBourdain) April 7, 2011
In a major blow, butter has just canceled its relationship with Paula Deen. — Ruth Bourdain (@RuthBourdain) June 29, 2013
We need a WikiLeaks to explain how McRibs get made. — Ruth Bourdain (@RuthBourdain) December 3, 2010
For what it’s worth, I want to make it clear that I don’t hate vegetarians. In fact, I love grass-fed meat. — Ruth Bourdain (@RuthBourdain) September 28, 2010
Seattle surprise. Hungover. The sweet sexy shock of finding tiny Olympia oysters in your underwear. Money shot of mignonette. — Ruth Bourdain (@RuthBourdain) October 1, 2012
Gray. Hot as Mario Batali’s underwear. Walking along the river licking a lemon ice, considering a 3-way with Mr. Softee and a choco taco. — Ruth Bourdain (@RuthBourdain) June 27, 2013
Anthony Bourdain’s Assistant Won’t Chase Him Around with a Hairbrush
If you want access to the coolest man in food media, don’t buy Laurie Woolever a drink.
These days, Anthony Bourdain’s “gatekeeper” (a more appropriate term than “assistant”) is stone-cold sober. Well, except for the special-occasion toke every once in awhile.
As the right-hand woman to a man known for his drug and alcohol habits, Woolever is no stranger to booze. Not because she’s behind the scenes as he explores unknown parts of the world, drink in hand, shots lining the table. In fact, Woolever rarely sees Bourdain in person (their correspondence is mostly limited to email, with the rare face-to-face interaction).
Before Bourdain (or, as a superfan might say, BB), Woolever worked as an associate editor at Wine Spectator until her employer pulled the plug on her maternity deal, which allowed her to stay at home one day a week to be with her newborn son. She and her husband got married, pregnant and bought a house in Queens while she was full-time at the magazine. But this was all after Batali (AB).
In 1998, Mario Batali opened his second restaurant, Babbo, and received a three-star review in the New York Times from Ruth Reichl. Woolever had recently graduated from the French Culinary Institute with a $24,000 debt and a failed attempt as a pastry chef. Her career counselor got her an interview with Batali. She had never seen his Food Network show (she couldn’t afford cable), but she knew who Ruth Reichl was. This, coupled with her culinary education and experience working as a private cook, landed her a job as Batali’s assistant for the next three and a half years.
Batali’s name on her resume continues to open doors for Woolever today, but she ultimately wanted to write. She moved on to catering, private cooking and working on cookbooks, which led to her first project with Bourdain. Woolever hosted dinner parties in her apartment while recipe testing and editing Anthony Bourdain’s Les Halles Cookbook for $50 per recipe (plus grocery reimbursement). Years later, Bourdain, who is buddies with Batali, was looking for someone who “wouldn’t chase him around with a hairbrush,” and Woolever knew he needed someone with writing chops. They settled on $400 a week to start, and now she is in charge of his life’s general organization, gatekeeping (aka weeding out the weirdos from ongoing opportunities), editing books for his imprint and taking one trip a year with his CNN “Parts Unknown” film crew (she uses it as fodder for her own travel stories).
Woolever and Bourdain are a lot alike. They indulge in solitude and dark humor and have lived their adult lives in the city. Both exchanged nuptials in 2007, and had kids about one year apart (later they enrolled their kids in jiu jitsu at the same place). Bourdain’s seemingly tough exterior doesn’t hint at his role as a father. His face, aged with experience exceeding what’s disclosed in Kitchen Confidential, has seen dark corners of empty bars his hands, worn from his years as a chef, have held arguably as many cigarettes as chopsticks around the world. But as he writes in Appetites, A Cookbook, the “monster of self-regard” loves being a father. Everything about it, for that matter. Woolever’s wandered in her past too, taking time to get “good and broke while going on a bunch of Nerve.com dates,” though her life is more maternal now. Neither subscribes to conventionality.
“What do ‘normal’ people do? What makes a ‘normal’ family happy?” Bourdain asks in the introduction after quoting Leo Tolstoy’s book Anna Karenina, which opens with: “All happy families are all alike each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” Bourdain argues this point, citing staples of his unorthodox life. But Appetites is a family cookbook, and though he and Woolever may be in different places (literally) during their 9–5, at the end of the day, they both must feed their families. This, aside from their pre-established shorthand and seamless correspondence, made Woolever the obvious choice as his co-author on Appetites.
Woolever says she has been “incredibly lucky” in her career, crediting good timing and connections, but she’s earned it. Her bylines date back to 1998 (BB), appearing in the New York Times, Food & Wine, Saveur, GQ, Wine Spectator, Los Angeles Times, Lucky Peach and, now, alongside Bourdain’s on the cover of Appetites. Her writing is sharp, smart and brave, publicizing personal experiences like riding the subway with breast milk leaking from a “sour-smelling freezer bag” strapped to her body or Googling “geriatric limbless porn.”
Ask Bourdain about his assistant and he’ll describe her as quiet, professional and serious. Ask a handful of people in the food world and you’ll settle on one answer: Laurie Woolever is no bullshit. Woolever is wise in avoiding an attempt to “be Bourdain” to impress him (that’s embarrassing for everyone, she says), brilliant with her one-liners like “Brooklyn is expensive and not real” (and “Queens is the future,” for the record) and certified-shrewd enough to scout talent to publish under his name.
While she schedules the life and times of one of the most wildly popular (and wild) personalities in food, Woolever is wanting for more words under her own name. She’s working on a podcast that will go live “sometime between now and the apocalypse” and the possibility of her own book, though she isn’t sure the world needs another food memoir by somebody who hasn’t done something “extraordinary.” In the meantime, Woolever isn’t looking to leave Bourdain’s side anytime soon. She’s even making her “Parts Unknown” debut as the crew tours Queens in the new season. But when with Bourdain, even President Obama was inclined to have a beer over dinner.
The Linguine with Clams dish from Appetites, A Cookbook is the leading candidate for Bourdain’s last meal on Earth because you “won’t have to worry about garlic breath in the next life,” but it is also, as he says, delicious as hell. During our interview, Woolever (Bourdain's assistant) made a version of his recipe with littleneck clams from American Pride Seafood, a year-round staple at the Jackson Heights Farmers' Market. She added fresh asparagus, simply blanched and finished in a little olive oil, to accompany an already approachable dish. It’s surprisingly light (we ate it for Sunday lunch) despite pasta’s sedative effects, though Bourdain attributes it to a final meal before an eternal sleep. Ask Woolever what her final meal might be facing the apocalypse? Chocolate cake. Store-bought frosting. No bullshit.
Bourdain never tried to hide his past with drug addiction. In fact, he even joked about it during a 2016 appearance during a promotional tour of one of his books. When an audience member asked about how he could get Bourdain’s job, the chef replied, “Drop out of college. Don’t concentrate. Do a lot of cocaine and heroin.”
Joking aside, he revealed to Wealth Simple that drugs were, in fact, a big part of his motivation growing up. “I was aware that I had far less money at my disposal than just about everyone I went to school with,” he explained. “My friends could afford weed and cocaine. That was certainly a motivator, maybe a bad one, but a not unimportant one: my friends could afford drugs, I could not. They would share but, of course, the thing about cocaine is that you can never have enough.”
He also admitted to using heroin until the 1980s. “Friends of mine from the ‘70s and ‘80s, they just got off five, six, maybe 10 years ago. And we’re the lucky ones. We made it out alive,” he told Biography. “There are a lot of guys that didn’t get that far. But you know, I also don’t have that many regrets either.”
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The GreenGourmet line from Cuisinart is a really great idea conceptually. Both product and packaging are made from materials that are recycled, better for the environment, and healthier for your body. This wok is just one of many GreenGourmet options to choose from, and it holds up like the .
Ruth&rsquos Declaration of Loyalty
Ruth remains with Naomi, while the realistic Orpah accepts Naomi&rsquos reasoning that the daughters‑in‑law need not become refugees in turn. The text needs no embellishments:
Entreat me not to leave you, or to return from following after you. For wherever you go, I will go. Wherever you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die and there will I be buried&hellip
It is a statement of loyalty and faith which endures through all generations. And the loyalty is soon put to the test, as Ruth goes out to glean in strange fields. There, in the field of Boaz, several patterns converge. Naomi has a plan which will obligate the kinsman to support her. Ruth has her own ideas which will, if realized, change her own position as well. And Boaz moves from an initial position of utter correctness and minimum courtesy to a granting of extra privileges which reflect a change within himself of which he is not fully aware at this point.
The True Meaning Behind Anthony Bourdain’s Most Famous Quote
Anthony Bourdain knew how to cook up a storm on the screen as well as behind the counter. One of his most iconic quotes, taken from his famous &ldquoDon&rsquot Eat Before Reading This&rdquo essay, published in The New Yorker&rsquos 1999 Annals of Gastronomy, demonstrates this with the delicacy of a meat cleaver.
&ldquoVegetarians, and their Hezbollah-like splinter faction, the vegans &hellip are the enemy
of everything good and decent in the human spirit. To live life without veal or chicken stock, fish cheeks, sausages, cheese, or organ meats is treasonous.&rdquo
21 years later, this quote &ndash arguably his most famous &ndash is still trotted out by modern publications (DMARGE included) to add a bit of
to proceedings, in a culinary landscape dominated by flabby opinions and half-strength wine.
To understand its true meaning, DMARGE hit up some of Australia&rsquos (and the world&rsquos) top foodies.