I read this in my copy of the New Yorker (I bought two in Texas at the airport, on my way home, but I gave one to Addy):
This was the intro to a review of a restaurant in New York. Needless to say, the reviewer was unimpressed. But I love the way she chose to say it:
Could this be the most uninspired menu in New York? The mussels come in a garlic-white-wine sauce. The waiter says there aren't any this evening. A bowl of mixed olives is eight dollars. ("Kalamata, Niçoise, Cerignola, green" is the explanation.) Mains include salmon à'la vapeur and a mustard chicken, like at a wedding, or in seat 60D on a long-distance flight. And the mac and cheese is twenty dollars, because someone thought very hard about truffles when making it.
Ouch! Burn!
No comments:
Post a Comment