Mr.Radar posted:

Just want to call out this bit in particular:


Chicken flavored with ball bearings

quote:

The meal, beyond the wildest expectations of those present, many of whom felt a churning in their gastric cavities which could be put down not entirely to appetite but also to understandable fear, began with a Timbale of Tomorrow: a sort of appetizer perhaps too poetic to be appreciated by the needs of the stomach, which as everyone knows, is a crude materialist. This timbale was composed of the head of a newborn calf, miserable and disconcerted, in the middle of a superabundance of pineapples, nuts and dates: these dates once bitten into revealed themselves pregnant with an almost Cyclopean surprise: they were, in fact, carefully stuffed with anchovies so that out of this innocent head, out of these pineapples and African fruits with the added complexity of fish, a sort of pudding was born that left every oesophagus choked with admiration.

We proceeded then impetuously to Taste Buds Take Off: a name indicating a soup of fairly bizarre nature, composed in almost equal parts of concentrated meat stock, champagne and liqueurs: on top of this mixture, which for initiates is said to have extraordinary appetitive qualities, floated some large rose petals, graceful and fragile. Confronted with such a masterpiece of brothy lyricism the guests courageously tried the experiment of swallowing; but more than one, with obvious aversion, forebore to continue to the end and contented himself with just taking a rose petal from the bowl, drying it with his napkin and placing it inside his wallet as a souvenir of the meal and evidence of a banquet of which he would later tell his grandchildren.

The third course, the ‘Ox in the Cockpit’, consisted of some very mysterious meatballs over whose composition it is neither good nor helpful to speculate, placed on top of aeroplanes made of bread. The planes were fine, the meat balls less so. However, this dish was among the most appreciated, being one which offered many of the guests the chance to still their hunger with bread, which had never before appeared to be such a divine and precious food.

And now the waiters appear with great trays bearing the ‘Vegetal Flight Booster’, consisting of a discreetly diabolical mixture in which slices of beetroot and slices of orange nestled together, united by oil and vinegar and a little pinch of salt. By this time many of the diners had already put their digestive systems into a not quite normal condition, so they could not really be blamed for being unable to repress an instinctive gesture of terror when the tray carrying the ‘conclusive foods’ appeared. These foods gloried in the extremely dynamic name of ‘Candied Atmospheric Electricities’. These dear and unforgettable ‘electricities’ looked like little brightly-coloured bars of marbled soap, containing a sweetish cream made from ingredients that only an exhaustive chemical analysis would be able to define. I have to say, with a journalist’s scruple, that only a very few of the banqueters dared to put these bars of soap into their mouths: unfortunately I don’t know the names of those daring souls. I say unfortunately because a cluster of heroes like these deserves, at the very least, eternalization in bronze.

And so we arrived at the Landing on Water Digestive: a landing that not everyone managed to carry out, since a good number had already sunk at the moment of takeoff. Marinetti rose to speak and, with a marvellous eloquence which sprang from him so spontaneously it was as if he had not touched the food, he launched into an outburst worthy of a Public Prosecutor against the infamy of pasta and the ignominy of ravioli, exalting Futurist dishes by contrast, particularly those amphibious dates we were able to taste so memorably at the beginning of the banquet.

After Marinetti sat down, the poet Farfa jumped to his feet and declaimed with aviatorial impetuosity a quasi-Pindaric ode entitled ‘Song of the Tubers’.

zedprime posted:

That's probably the least weird thing in the posts. People swear up and down that leaving lead or steel shot in their game birds during roasting makes it taste better.

zedprime posted:

That's probably the least weird thing in the posts. People swear up and down that leaving lead or steel shot in their game birds during roasting makes it taste better.

quote:

that left every oesophagus choked with admiration.

FreudianSlippers posted:

I worked on a film last summer where the actor went in Keto for six months before shooting to achieve a nothing but skin and bones look.

Literally minutes after he wrapped a few people from the crew walked in with a stack of pizzas and beer and he dug in. Never seen anyone as happy.

quote:

It is not only that Futurist Cooking proposes a complete revolution in the nourishment of our race, with the aim of making it more joyful, spiritual and dynamic. Futurist Cooking also proposes, through the art of harmoniously combining Futurist dishes, to evoke and provoke essential states of mind which cannot otherwise be evoked or provoked. We have put together some dinner programmes that we call PROVOCATIVE AND EVOCATIVE.

quote:

A group of soldiers who at three o’clock on a January afternoon will have to get into a lorry to enter the line of fire at four, or go up in an aeroplane to bomb cities or counter-attack enemy flights, would seek in vain the perfect preparation for these in the grieving kiss of a mother, of a wife, of children or in re-reading passionate letters.

A dreamy walk is equally inappropriate. So is the reading of an amusing book.

Instead these fighters sit down round a table, where they are served a ‘Drum Roll of Colonial Fish’ and some ‘Raw Meat Torn by Trumpet Blasts’.

DRUM ROLL OF COLONIAL FISH: poached mullet marinated for twenty-four hours in a sauce of milk, rosolio liqueur, capers and red pepper. Just before serving the fish, open it and stuff it with date jam interspersed with discs of banana and slices of pineapple. It will then be eaten to a continuous rolling of drums.

RAW MEAT TORN BY TRUMPET BLASTS: cut a perfect cube of beef. Pass an electric current through it, then marinate it for twenty-four hours in a mixture of rum, cognac and white vermouth. Remove it from the mixture and serve on a bed of red pepper, black pepper and snow. Each mouthful is to be chewed carefully for one minute, and each mouthful is divided from the next by vehement blasts on the trumpet blown by the eater himself. When it is time for the Peralzarsi; the soldiers are served plates of ripe persimmons, pomegranates and blood oranges. While these disappear into their mouths, some very sweet perfumes of roses, jasmine, honeysuckle and acacia flowers will be sprayed around the room, the nostalgic and decadent sweetness of which will be roughly rejected by the soldiers who rush like lightning to put their gas masks on.

The moment they are about to leave they swallow the Throat-Explosion, a solid liquid consisting of a pellet of Parmesan cheese steeped in Marsala.

DarkSoulsTantrum posted:

The stupid(er) part about this is that they say in the comments that it’s a shame that composting produces all this free heat and energy that no one uses but then they put the steak on the grill anyway.

Brawnfire posted:

Seems like this is the type of heat more suited to like, passive environmental heating or something, not cooking... but what do I know, I'm not a whackjob

Facebook Aunt posted:

In a climate with mild winters you can put a bunch of manure and other compostables in a flower bed, then a layer of soil on top to have a winter flower garden that grows things just slightly out of season for your climate. The compost material takes months to break down and keeps the soil warmer.

Too labour intensive to be practical for anyone but posh twits back in Victorian England with gardeners on staff.

axolotl farmer posted:

fizzymercury posted:

Winter compost gardens are poo poo easy but gently caress the pests that come with it. Why caterpillars and giant gently caress off cicada. Why you gotta show up in November. You keep killing my knockouts and squashes.

hawowanlawow posted:

nobody's gonna eat the entire watermelon

chitoryu12 posted:

Behold: The Heroic Winter Dinner

LifeSunDeath posted:

That slice of cheese cake is not 1000 calories by a long shot. It might be closer to 400.

hawowanlawow posted:

nobody's gonna eat the entire watermelon

LifeSunDeath posted:

That slice of cheese cake is not 1000 calories by a long shot. It might be closer to 400.

chitoryu12 posted:

chitoryu12 posted:

JacquelineDempsey posted:

As someone who carried around a printed out copy of Marinetti's Futurist Manifesto when I was a young pretentious art student

uber_stoat posted:

https://twitter.com/bunchofbats/status/1366799282364440576?s=20

aphid_licker posted:

Yeah but a weirdass looking example

fizzymercury posted:

...I still nip out of the worcestershire bottle though. My roommate wandered in on that once. We don't talk about it.

CannonFodder posted:

Watermelon is the opposite of keto, it's loaded with natural sugar.