Look, I’m not the svelte man I used to be anymore either, but there’s a reason everybody else thinks Americans are all fat fucks and it’s that y’all eat things like this:
A dozen-egg omelet filled with mushrooms, onions, American cheese and smothered with our chili and more cheese. On the other half of a 15-inch pizza pan is a generous pile of homefries and two biscuits.
(Found at Unfogged.)
Humongous dishes are not just a fast food chain speciality. As Man v Food shows, every other crappy restaurant unable to compete on quality goes for quantity, creating some insane signature dish of such gargantuan proportions that eating it becomes punishment rather than pleasure:
But what I’d really like to see is what happens the next morning, when the show presumably turns into Man V Poo, as Richman empties the dauntingly substantial, hopelessly compacted contents of his engorged colon, clenching the bathroom doorhandle between his teeth as he attempts to give birth to a leg-sized hunk of fecal sod without killing himself. Cue footage of him sweating, shaking and sobbing like a man impaled on a clay tree, before eventually squeezing out a log with the dimensions and weight of a dead gazelle in a greased sleeping bag. As he mops his brow (and backside), he smiles weakly with exhausted triumph, whispers farewell, and the credits roll. And we’ve all learned something about the price of excess.
And lookig at this NYTimes restaurant critic’s food diary eating in upscale restaurants won’t save you either…
Somewhat related: fast food ads v reality.
