We headed to Toronto, Canada to hang with the Momofuku crew, the thriving American restaurant brand impressively stretching its wings into Canada in the midst of a burgeoning Toronto food scene, complete with pressed duck, lobster mac & cheese, and a giant whole rib eye.
When I was 19, I had a crusty boyfriend who spontaneously decided that for health reasons, he was going to eat half a dozen or so raw garlic cloves every day. Which actually sounded kind of okay, at first; garlic is delicious and antiviral and antifungal and anti-everything-bad, and I’m generally unfazed by garlic breath if it’s emitting from someone I love. It seemed like a welcomed addition to his diet that otherwise consisted exclusively of spaghetti with hot sauce and tofu dogs. But after a week or two, he was a changed man. An insidious scent wafted not only out of his mouth, but also out of his armpits, feet, neck, and hairline. I have a distinct memory of kissing his cheek and tasting an industrial-strength aroma analogous to the bottom layer of a mid-summer New York City dumpster. He was emitting a pungent garlicky venom, 24 hours a day, seemingly from every pore (and orifice) on his body. The garlic ritual had to go; it was me or the garlic.
And so it did, eventually, but my memory of this phase, in addition to some other choice experiences, has since instilled me with a trust in the belief that “you are what you eat”—in other words, whatever you put in your mouth is going to make its way into every weird perspiration, fluid, and mucous that lives in or comes out of you. And as it turns out, we’re not imagining it.
I Ate Live Food from a Pet Store for a Week
Long story short: We need to find viable, palatable, nutritious alternatives to traditional meat.
With that in mind I decided to replace one meal per day for seven days with sources of protein that can be purchased alive from a pet store.
At this point I should note that I’m not some granola here to chew your ear off about how fucked up factory farming is. In fact, I eat a lot of meat myself. I’m from northern Michigan, where there’s only one day in the Christian calendar year when most folks will intentionally choose fish, and I’m the type of heathen who doesn’t even abstain on that day. So this little experiment was done for my own sake, to know what sort of animal-based dishes I can look forward to when hamburgers are enjoyed exclusively by the one percent.
Before beginning the diet, I consulted my doctor to make sure I wasn’t about to spark someContagion-type situation. As I told him about my plan he put his chin in his hand and nodded politely, but seemed pretty unconcerned.
“Isn’t there anything I should be worried about?” I asked.
He shook his head with an offhand warning against eating mice intestines. “Make sure to take those out.”
“Sure,” I said. “I wouldn’t want to eat their poop.”
After a pause, and without irony, he told me where in town I could find the best price on regionally raised beef tenderloin.
And so, with my doctor’s blessing, I drove to the pet store to buy some groceries.
Day 1: Crickets Pancakes
Nutritional Facts: 1 serving equals 100g of crickets. Each serving contains 121 calories, 12.9g protein, 5.5g of fat
4 cups of flour
1 cup of roasted crickets
Place your crickets in the freezer for 1-2 hours, then boil briskly for 1-2 minutes. Strain and cool. Place clean and cool crickets on a cookie sheet and bake at 300 degrees for 45 minutes.
Remove antennae and legs gently; they fall off easily. Crush collected crickets using a rolling pin or mortar and pestle until they are ground into small brown specks. Insufficient grinding will result in their small faces peering out at you from the batter L. Use flour in pancakes.
Crickets smell fishy—an aroma no doubt exacerbated by their placement in my local pet shop in thick plastic bins against a backdrop of blue fish tanks. In an effort to outwit my better instincts I told myself that the shrimp-like aroma wafting from my hotcakes was actually almonds.
Crickets taste like almonds, if you think of almonds, and shrimp if you think of anything other than almonds. This flavor is subtle, but when you place it in a pancake drenched in syrup, it becomes amplified. I recommend incorporating the cricket flour into a savory pastry, instead. Like nuts, they add a satisfying crunch.
“Feel da riddim!”—Bob Marley (Born: 4/20/1945 – Died: 4/20/1981)
EDITOR’S NOTE: This article has been edited to comply with MUNCHIES’ stringent anti-marijuana policy.
4/20 is upon us, and y’all know what that means. Whether it falls on a miserable Monday or a sunny Saturday, 4/20 is the day when millions of artists, teenagers, and white-dread donning New England college students congregate to smoke tons and tons of
weedtobacco. Here are some quick tips on how to celebrate and eat right while getting mad blazedsmoking two packs of cigarettes on this special day.
Preparation should begin before the big day itself. Instead of buying expensive 4/20 decorations from the store this year, we decided to make some of our own. After a year of follicular growth, the holiday’s customary dreadlock wreath can easily be thrown together for the price of a pair of scissors.
Once the day is underway, make sure you have plenty of delicious edibles and drinkables. Adding bong water to boba (or bubble tea to you n00bs) really gives an interesting kick to this classic Thai libation. However, much like infusing drinks with alcohol, you do have to worry about the risk of drinking and driving with this “THC tea” (but, its cool—I can totally drive better when I’m high not thirsty anyway).
Everyone knows how to make a basic weed butter. We took New York chef, David Santos of Louro, to Denver, Colorado to show us how to make sous vide pot butter. He then used it to create the best marijuana meal the world has ever seen: perfectly roasted chicken with sautéed wild mushrooms and a pain perdu from the weed—ahem—pan drippings.
Just in time for Easter
The internet was up in arms—sorry, paws—yesterday over a New Zealand pizza chain erecting a billboard to try and sell their smoked rabbit pizza that was plastered with rabbit pelts and the line, “Made from real rabbit. Like this billboard.”
Donut Friend is the longtime dream and pet project of Mark Trombino, the former drummer of Drive Like Jehu and producer of every pop punk record that you emoted to in the late 90s. For more than two decades, Trombino made his mark on an endless list of indie, pop punk, and post-hardcore bangers, but now he’s left the music world to fulfill his dream of upping the donut ante.
Donuts are like, a thing now? And it’s always sort of annoying when foods become a thing but at least donuts as a thing are infinitely less annoying than cupcakes or whatever other desserts (cr*nuts) have entered the zeitgeist recently.
The ‘Women Eating On the Tube Protest’ Was Weird
There’s recently been some media coverage and a lot of hoo-ha surrounding a Facebook page set up to gather pictures of women eating on the London Underground. Before it was removed from Facebook, the group—titled “Women Eating On the Tube”—provided an outlet for camera-wielding voyeurs to take a break from sneaking up-skirts and instead indulge in a far more manageable, less arrest-able form of creepiness.
The page’s founder is “filmmaker and artist” Tony Burke. He claims that taking candid iPhone shots of women mid-chew is “an observational study” and “reportage photography,” as opposed to a bunch of assholes embarrassing busy people for indulging their basic human need to feed themselves.
The page was taken down last Friday. On the day of its demise, Burke visited the Radio 4 studios to sit down with pissed-off student Lucy Brisbane McKay, who had announced a protest on the Circle line against the page, “Women Eating Wherever the Fuck They Want.” McKay was correct in what she said: The policing of women’s behavior in this way is unacceptable, weird, degrading, and pretty embarrassing for Burke. But McKay said she wanted it to be a “celebration of women eating.”
Want to sound like a complete douchebag when you walk into a cheese shop? There is a certain something that can take place when being surrounded by decadence and social status symbols. It can make even the most humble gent or dame a downright tool.
Let me tell you about cheese speak. When you’re on that hot OkCupid first date and you think it’s super charming and pretty chill to just, “I don’t know, make dinner and get to know each other,” this is not the time to pretend to know shit about cheese if your end game involves thoughts of getting laid.
Like any respectable human being, drinking booze is my favorite pastime. When I consider the world of wine, there are a lot of terms that are used to talk about it; fish swim bladder is not one of them. But maybe it should be. Because, lo-and behold, the crystalline clarity of that glass of sauvignon blanc may have the swim bladder of a sturgeon, or any number of bizarre and unexpected fining agents to thank for its alcoholic perfection.
is whine vegan?