As Intended

“No!” “No?” “No” Sullen faces hang dejectedly towards the floor in an effort to be swallowed by gravity, they are thwarted only by their stubborn attachment to bodies too practiced through time and decorum not to collapse. This last condemnation was almost whispered under his breath as if to himself, satisfying that all that could be done had been done, there was only one conclusion. No. The final confirmatory death knell delivered through a mouth equally at home chewing culinary art as chewing dreams and spitting them out in monosyllabic sentences. The lips, still greasy with the efforts of this dreamer savoured the hung faces, not in any glee of destruction for destruction’s sake. No. He was a builder, a creator, an architect of culinary direction and if the shanty towns of his city had to be brought down for the greater good then so be it. The city had become rank with corruption.

“That’s right, no. You so-called food artists have lost your way. You’ve been beguiled and duped by your own arrogance and led astray by your fetid imaginations. What do you have to show for your wayward efforts? This…platter of death? No. It will not do. Do you not see? Wild experimentalism has brought us to the brink of obscenity. We have been enthralled by TV cheffery and its false idols of cuisine. Birds stuffed in to birds, pine nut foam, liquid nitrogen liquorice, octopus lollypops, little itsy bitsy flower pie deconstructed post modern sprinklings of congealed air and misguided intentions. And now this insult to nature on a plate.

“We need to move beyond this fluffery. We need to realise that ‘progress’ is not always for the better. I, with my specialised team, have been working to once again redefine what real flavour is, pure, beautiful, as nature intended, I call it ‘4 deid burds.”