As I’ve shared here before, one of the joys of my week is reading anything AA Gill writes in the Sunday Times. This week brought another classic barb. I mean who esle would have the verve or the nerve to write this:
I started with a complimentary shot glass of insemination-temperature cauliflower soup, with a cold cream cappuccino top and a grey, slimy nose-blow of truffle oil as a garnish. You can sip it like espresso, the waiter said helpfully. Liquidised cauliflower tastes like fat boy’s farts. Effluent cauliflower with added truffle oil tastes like corpse bloat.
Anyone care to join me in a whip round to get AA and Gordon Ramsay to come out here and give some of our complacent over-priced establishments the flaying they deserve?
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