"working on my faults and cracks..."


metaphorical supernova

two lucky survivors of the evening's events

Though the star of last night's year-end party at Fura was to be Mr. Katsuragi who has decided to hang up the storied science teacher hat, his teary-eyed farewell speech was quickly upstaged by the time we reached dinner's third course. Certainly, the first two were delightful, but it was that third--a dish so tragically vile, it utterly defied description--nay, howled and spat in my bewildered face as I sputtered in vain to dare describe it. Spent the better part of the evening's remainder chugging beers, and nursing plum wine and other such fruity libations carefully mixed to chase the stench from my mouth. But the damage was done. Hours later, breath still reeking and head spinning, I realized there could be no metaphor worthy of the nightmare I'd just eaten, for it was already, the ultimate hyperbole--a metaphor so ridiculous, it would be the metaphor all other culinary nightmares would be measured against:

Your mom's eggplant scallopini was as bad as "  see below "

I'd rather eat "  see below " for a week than let you cook for me

Oh, you like Japan? Japanese food too? You should try "  see below " then we'll talk

the Japanese cornucopia from hell

Does a gathering of super villains in the Marvel canon have a specific title beyond "evil dudes invade VFW hall?" Just the same, while I don't know if the dish above has an official title or explanation, I don't think it requires one either. A photographic awareness of the content should be explanation enough.
And as if this trifecta of barf (natto, yamaimo, okura) weren't bad enough already, they had to go and crack a raw egg on top of it...

once mixed, this culinary delight should look like a St. Bernard 
with IBS threw up in a box of captain crunch

...before mashing the slimy orgy together to spoon onto a salted square of nori--a thinly veiled feint whose crunch served only to temporarily disguise the imminent gustatorial blitzkrieg betwixt. "Umami," my ass. If I were to grasp at second-rate straws, I suppose it could be like snacking on the shell of a large dung beetle amidst his own lunch, but even that feeble attempt fails to give our shiny new metaphor enough credit.

It goes without saying that the horror I unleashed upon my apartment's crapper later that night, totally looked like " see above ."

4 contributions to this piece:

dyki said...

cho-umaso- lol

Kimbrolynn said...

Kind of glad I had to miss the affair ;)

Kimbrolynn said...

p.s. Mayumi and Kaz totally ordered natto sushi, exclaiming it was one of their favorites. They asked me if I had, had it and if I liked it, so I said "No, and no thank you." Uni was enough, I think.

Dagbert said...

@ dyki: you shut up

@ kimbrolynn: phoning it in at uni I think is a fair compromise to retain your sanity at future dinner tables.

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