The Bruni Digest

In which I sit on a dirt mound somewhere in Brooklyn with my ears pricked, waiting for New York Times head restaurant critic Frank Bruni, who I imagine to be a Venetian count in a huge ruffled collar, to dole out stars from the inside breast pocket of his brocaded chamber robe. This blog is predicated on the suggestion that every Wednesday, in the Times Dining Out section, Frank lays a huge faberge egg of hilarity.

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Location: New York, New York, U.S. Outlying Islands

I am fiscally irresponsible, which means I have weak bones and a dorsal fin. And a penchant for dining out, even though I am, in the words of many rich people, a "poor people". I make a different face when speaking each of the foreign languages in which I am shittily proficient.

Monday, September 19, 2005

I also read about television. But I PROMISE that's it. No, like, literature.

As I started to skim this article in the Television section of the Times today about the new “Kitchen Confidential” TV show, I was struck by the stylistic flamboyance of the piece. This was no “Straight-Shooter” Stanley, no “Hot Shot” Heffernan. When my titillated gaze jumped up to check the byline, it recalled the moment I found out that Santa was really Mommy: I had already, in my heart, intuited the truth (how could 2 strangers, one a suburban housewife, the other an overweight elderly Scandinavian philanthropist, have the exact same retarded, illegible handwriting? No, my instincts knew best). Frank's distinctive voice is as unmistakable to me now as my own mother's Stevie Wonder psycho-scrawl.

He begins:

“The meek better move to the end of the line. Chefs will inherit the earth. They have their product lines, publishing contracts and reality shows. Their empires traverse oceans. Their antics pepper gossip columns.”

Got that, Bible? Chefs, not Meek, to inherit earth. (Although I don’t know what my line-cook boyfriend would have to say about that… sometimes he inherits meats that are rotting or leftover cheese, but that’s about it.) Moving on.

“And now comes an additional helping of affirmation: a comedy on Fox that means to be hip, strives to be irreverent and wagers that nothing says lovin' like a stud muffin at the oven.”

NOTHIN SAYS LOVIN LIKE A STUD MUFFIN AT THE OVEN. That’s right, additionally, Fox is wagering that “if the beefcake’s shakin’ there’s a bacon in the makin.’” Said one studio exec, “[Cooper’s] buns are made for slappin’, gonna tap him till I’m crappin’!”

“The muffin man in ‘Kitchen Confidential’ is played by Bradley Cooper, familiar from ‘Alias’ and finally getting the kind of front-burner role he deserves.”
If you’re playing the Thematic “Kitchen” Metaphor Drinking Game, now would be an appropriate time for a shot of Jaeger.

Although in all fairness, he does deserve front-burner roles. At least, my front is burning just looking at him.

“He brings the show an ample measure of heat and a dollop of hope, his presence almost engaging enough to redeem an overstuffed, overbaked first episode.”
Bing! Bing bing! Jaeger shots all around! And you're going to want to get one of those extra big Skidmore/LeHigh commemorative sorority event quintuple-shooters for the conclusion:

Commemorating historic UVA girls' favorite places to bone athletes.

"Some viewers may well find a savory treat here. Others may want to hold out for the inevitable next phase in epicurean adulation, a Broadway musical about a quixotic Spanish visionary and his beloved steel griddle.

Anybody for 'Man of La Plancha?'"

No, but, funny coincidence, I am up for a role as one of the dead piglets competing for a place in a sack of herbed saltwater in this fall’s Off-Off-Broadway production of “A Chorus Brine.”



Blogger TG said...

i so admire your ability to run through all this and (using a bruni-esque verb) stomach it. how do you not poke your eyes out? i just can't stand the fucker's writing, myself. all those painful culinary metaphors like "Their antics pepper gossip columns" and "a dollop of hope" and "an overstuffed, overbaked first episode", i mean, you're supposed to work out that kind of crackerjack journalism-101 crap EARLY in your journalism career. but unfortunately, it's typical of an ex "news" dope who moves to lifestyles/fluff and thinks that feature writing = shitty-ass puns. wotta friggin clown

11:00 PM, September 20, 2005  
Anonymous NY Times Embarrassed?! said...

Anyone else notice that Bruni's Kitchen Confidential review was posted online in this week's Dining Section when it went up last night, and that it was removed this morning?

11:36 AM, September 21, 2005  
Anonymous UppEastSideAl said...

this is hysterical. i am alternately repulsed and riveted whenever i hear FB on my radio in the morning (WQXR). how did he get this plum ( ha-"plum" worthy of FB) job?? also anyone notice an eerie vocal resemblance to NYT theater critic Ben Branley? so funny your site! thanks.

11:37 AM, September 21, 2005  
Blogger Jules said...

Well, actually, I kind of appreciate his presence in the food writing world. Yes, he's outta control, but I've never been one for control, except in the tops of panty hose. As a comedian, I couldn't be happier that someone with a flare for the silly is at the most serious post in town.

11:39 AM, September 21, 2005  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Jules, you rock! Keep giving Bruni hell. You're the blog highlight of my week.

2:02 PM, September 21, 2005  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh Jules, you so bore me. I think you have a penchant for boredom. You must sweat just by thinking. May I suggest that you move to the middle of nowhere, eat at restaurants for under $10, talk with people who've never left town, and then comeback to NYC with a better attitude for why food is taken seriously here. Sure, pomp sells copy. But a $150 shitty meal is a big chunk of change from your salary. Sure escargot and caviar taste slimy and disgusting, but some people waste their money on meth or crack.

2:03 PM, November 13, 2005  

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