Man, am I stuffed --- and all I did was skim 128 pages.
Though "skim" is the wrong word here.
"Gorged" is more like it.
And now I'm not sure what I need first --- a nap, a cardiologist or a vomitorium.
On the other hand, I'm totally satisfied.
First, because I now know that the worst piggery I have ever committed is amateur night compared to the snacks and meals cooked up here.
Second, because I have, at last, found the ideal gift book for just about everyone: This is Why You're Fat: Where Dreams Become Heart Attacks. No bigger than a Whopper, this little picture-and-text -- plus some recipes -- package is so gross it has something to offend and delight almost anyone. Really, this is a palate-pleaser for guys in track suits, women on Jenny Craig, kids who order the pizza "with" -- and especially your dieting friends who are obsessed with food.
Cooked up by the photo editor of Gawker and his girlfriend, the book began life as a web site that invited gluttonous Americans to submit their favorite creations. It received ten million page views in its first month. Visions of sugar plums -- or, more likely, Krispy Kreme bacon cheddar cheeseburgers -- danced in the heads of publishers. And now we have the paperback, destined to be a high-calorie hit.
I could be serious here and get in your grill about the sociological importance of this book -- how we live in a time when you're not supposed to drink much and party drugs have proved addictive and sex leads straight to personal ruin and so, by process of elimination, food is the only socially acceptable vice. Or I could notice that you're using your grill to prepare some grotesque meat snack and shut up about your moral turpitude and just present a smorgasbord of Fat Foods.
Ready to watch some food porn?
Let's start with the Krispy Kreme bacon cheddar cheeseburger.
Now take a look at a Happy Meal Pizza.
Eager for some Poutine (French fries topped with cheese curds and brown gravy)? Here you go.
Or would you prefer a White Trash Burrito (filled with SPAM, tater tots, Velveeta cheese and Boston baked beans)?
Not really a dessert at all. Ladies and gents....Meat Cake.
I need a break. Maybe some music. With attractive kids. Let's look at...oh, would you believe -- it's called "This Is Why You're Fat."Rested? I'm feeling like a Hamdog (a hot dog wrapped in a beef patty that's deep fried, covered with chili, cheese, onions, served on a hoagie bun topped with two fistfuls of fries and a fried egg). Or maybe a KFC Double Down Sandwich (two pieces of bacon and two slices of cheese smothered with the Colonel's Sauce with two fried chicken patties as buns). Make way! Here comes the Italian Cook Out (ravioli stuffed with barbecued rib meat and mashed potatoes, sour cream, bacon and chives, all topped with melted cheddar, bacon, cheese sauce, green onions and shredded cheese). Aptly named: the Dr. Phil (double-wrapped Chipotle burrito filled with rice, pinto beans, chicken, fresh tomato salsa, corn, sour cream, cheese, lettuce, and guacamole, wrapped inside of a cheese pizza topped with more fresh tomato salsa, corn chips, curly fries, and jalapeno bites, garnished with two sticks of chocolate and almond pocky). I'm thinking dessert -- the Doughnut Upside Down Cake (a bed of brown sugar and butter topped by a layer of 12 mini doughnuts baked inside of cake mix and topped with heavy whipping cream and brown sugar). The 30,000-calorie sandwich? Yes, there is one. But it's too beautiful to share here. Just open the pages to the greasiest spread in the book, put on your bib and dive in. Guaranteed, you'll die happy.
[cross-posted from HeadButler.com]