We're told that the conference "considered food (pie, seaweed), food culture (potlucks, cookbooks) and food spaces (a co-op, clambakes) through queer, Marxist, feminist and anti-colonialist perspectives." And: "The goal of the event was to reclaim histories and imagine futures, not of a cuisine — queer food has no set taste profiles or geographic origins — but of food that 'challenges binaries and any kind of normativity....'"
It's like an episode of "Portlandia."
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Too hungry to decipher all that. I'm ready to just go to McDonald's.
Without reading the article, I think the first problem they run into is that this:
food that 'challenges binaries and any kind of normativity....'"
already means "fancy nouvelle cuisine" or "molecular gastronomy," so they're facing an uphill battle to conquer that gastro-semantic space and proclaim it "queer."
"Scholars, students and writers"
Parasites.
This conference is not a serious academic matter.
I thought Marxist food was gruel.
No semen-glazed salmon? What about vegan chili stirred with an erect penis?
I really doubt that there is such a thing as "queer food."
Portlandia or Babylon Bee...
I think this must tie into that whole making us eat bugs thing.
Without question the queer community is the most self-absorbed around.
I bowed to the feminists and used Ms., an abbreviation for a word that doesn't exist. I tolerated the nonsense for the sake of civility. The Nooyawk Toims wants to compel us to use Mx. Not me. I won't. Never. And I won't be civil. Ms. is on the garbage heap of history as well. It's had its run and it's all washed up.
OMG!!!
More pies!!!
Is anyone available to do a wellness check on LLR-democratical And Violent Homosexual Rage Rape Fantasist Chuck?
I am assuming either at his home or anywhere the young children of conservative politicians might be.
A pie for each boob?
There was a guy at a previous workplace who was a huge fan of Twin Peaks. On his birthday, a peculiarly shaped cake was made for him. Sure had the feeling of "top surgery" as he went about slicing it.
We would do well to forget about de-colonizing and instead to acknowledge that the entire world is eating better thanks to the foods and the recipes of unknown tribal women in the Americas, mainly in South America. Sixty per cent of the food raised world-wide is based on foods developed by these tribal women. Lois Frank, a food historian has pointed out that without the work these tribal women did to develop these foods: "[it would mean] that the Italians didn't have the tomato, the Irish didn't have the potato, half the British National Dish—Fish and Chips—didn't exist. The Russians didn't have the potato, nor did they have vodka from the potato. And the French had no confection using either vanilla or chocolate. There were no chiles in any Asian cuisine anywhere in the world, nor were there any chiles [and no potatoes] in any East Indian cuisine dishes, including curries."
I looked into this a bit, too. Cooking would be different throughout Africa without the foods these tribal women developed: no bell peppers, jalapenos, chili pepper flakes, tomatoes, or peanut butter in North Africa; no beans, tomatoes, cornmeal, cayenne in East African; no cassava, tomatoes, chilis, peanuts in West Africa; no mealies, cornmeal, cornbread, potatoes, tomatoes, paprika, allspice in South Africa.
Regional cooking in the US is often based on local tribal recipes. For instance, barbecue is from Caribbean and Southern tribes; smoked meat is from Southern tribes; our typical Thanksgiving menu is mostly New England tribal food (turkey, beans, squash, cranberries, blueberry pie) with some additions from other tribes (potatoes, sweet potatoes). There's burritos, tacos, enchiladas from Southwestern US tribes.
It's pretty meaningless to talk about giving all this up.
Who's for just a smidge of Discreet Charm?
My wife and I used to talk about introducing a line of baked goods called Pornbread, but neither of us is much of an entrepreneur.
You can imagine the details for yourself.
The best part of COVID was that I stopped going to restaurants and figured out how to make delicious food for myself. The binary that concerned me was whether my food tasted good or bad.
There is something very wrong with the wiring of people who long for queer food. I suppose some organism is out there ready to consume just about anything. I,otoh, prefer the diet of the top predator.
Now do plates and silverware.
"It's like an episode from Portlandia."
The one where they're hiking and Fred Armisen steps on a snail, then he goes to apologize to the other snails and they beg him to kill them too because they're the worst animals, and then he and Carrie go to a restaurant and feast guilt-free on expensive escargot.
It's so great to be a guilt-free leftist. Yet they are still neurotic, then psychotic. Absolute cognitive dissonance still can't erase reality. Reality intrudes, shrieking in their ears. The best sound-cancelling headphones on Amazon can do nothing.
You have to tell yourself the snails are begging to die, and cutting off your dick makes coconut cake non-colonial and non-fattening, but only for people who cut off their dicks before eating it.
That, my friends, is an elite university education in America in 2024.
I always thought fondue was a little gay
This is why is cancelled my subscription to Bon Appetit. Apparently along with most of their other subscribers.
I remember when eating or serving quiche was certain to lead into questions or at least jokes about sexual orientation. Then it became popular enough, for a while, that quiche was a food men without any doubts about their heterosexuality ordered and ate, because men eat what they like. Me, I love bacon, so a classic Quiche Lorraine was OK by me from as soon as I learned it existed. Just because something is deemed queer by popular culture doesn't deprive it of tasting wonderful.
I still hate tapioca, however, and will never forgive Aunt Rita for foisting it upon me once.
Wildswan, if the Russians had no potato, they would still have invented vodka, even if they had to make it from their mother's tears. Russians without vodka is not possible.
Has anyone, besides me, been forced to read "disabled, obese, feminist, Marxist" Audre Lourde's autobiography?
Not a punchline.
She describes a sapphic feast of the late 50's, where the piece de resistance was thin slices of delicious New Yawk deli roast beef shaped to look like like vaginas, with a dot of horesradish sauce representing the *l**, and bialies because they didn't represent patriachial dominance as do bagels.
Please do your own research to understand the latter.
I have to admit missing NY deli every damn time I was forced to re-read this dreck in every class in grad school. My takeway, though, was that obese lesbian feminists, including Ms. Lourde, were a heck of a lot more fun back then, but I didn't dare say that sort of thing out loud.
"In their session, they brought two pillowy Key lime pies made from a recipe in the 'Get Fat, Don’t Die!' column...Mx. Barbosa... also brought along a 'sleazy wine cake,' made with Marsala and coconut, and a pecan buttercrunch — recipes from the zine that they tested and ate with a friend..."
"It's like an episode of "Portlandia."
Sounds more like an episode of "My 600 Pound Life."
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