My Restaurant Will Proudly Fuck Up Your Culture’s Signature Dish

My restaurant serves food from all over the world. And you’ll taste my dedication to appropriating other culture’s signature dishes in every single bite. Because I fuck them all up real good and hard. And I don’t mean they’ll taste bad (necessarily). I just mean I’ll do so little research and show such minimal awareness before embarking on new recipes that it will almost feel impressive. And you’ll pay $27 an entree for it.

Cuban sandwich? It’s now just chicken on a donut (I still use Swiss, of course). Falafel? How about breakfast falafel with blueberry compote? Pad see ew? Have you tried it on a tuna sandwich? And yes, my gyoza is pizza-themed. Thanks for asking.

I know this attitude makes me seem like I don’t respect other cultures, nor their homeland’s traditional dishes. I believe one local food critic even referred to my menu as “edible entitlement.” And they are absolutely right. Poof–your traditional borscht is a pie now, your baklava is soup, and each ingredient in your BiBimBap has been turned into frozen yogurt swirled into a waffle cone, which itself is a mutated tamale. Keep criticizing me and I’ll make a Vietnamese-Mexican pierogi that will shatter your mind. I’m even toying with turning a Greek salad into an artisanal vape juice.

My restaurant. My rules.

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