Yet another new restaurant in Louisville, eh?
If you’re talking about who and what I think you’re talking about, just stop — or I swear you’ll find out what your insides look like.
Look, I’m not a huge fan of the stuff, but barbecue is arguably this country’s single most important contribution to the culinary arts. For a public school tosser like you it may not be haute cuisine, but for people who actually like to eat real food, barbecue is hard to beat. Anyway, if a celebrity chef wants to open a smoke pit, I’m cool with it.
Describing this proposed abomination as a pit is the first sensible thing you’ve said since I had the misfortune of making your acquaintance. Unfortunately, immediately canceled out by your description of that clown as a chef. He’s to cooking what Trump is to philosophy. There are decent places to eat in Louisville: There’s no doubt about that. But the best food city in the world? You’re having a laugh.
You’re moving the goalposts, which is your usual M.O., but isn’t going to work on me. The point is that successful restaurateurs want to do business here. And I don’t really care if The New York Times likes him or not. If he’s putting arses on seats in Louisville, that’s good enough for me. Especially given the size of the arses in question.
Hang on, he only just announced it the other day. The only arse he’s put anywhere here is his own sweaty one on the seat of a vintage Camaro. And as much as I actually like barbecue, do we really need another place selling pulled pork and ribs? There are plenty of good places to get that kind of thing, and most of them are run by locals with real skin in the game. If I’m going to patronize any of them, it’ll be ones that don’t employ a public relations firm or a blind stylist.
The whole point of Fourth Street Live! was to attract exactly that kind of business; frankly, I think Fieri’s an overrated bell-end. I will reluctantly agree, however, that whoever wrote that piece in Nat Geo declaring Louisville the world’s top food destination must have been smoking flakka. There are a handful of places that can handily compete with what you can find in any city our size. Outside of that handful, though, our mincers are bigger and infinitely more forgiving and generous than our stomachs.
Yep. Not quite a mediocrity merry-go-round, but not far off it, which is why we need another barbecue joint about as much as we need another pizza, burger or taco joint. For all of the accolades, the truth is that our food ambitions are about as lofty as our gun-control ambitions.
Nice. I like what you did there. Led us on to the NRA convention without breaking stride. Clever, by your standards. I wonder if Greg Fischer will get up on the same stage that’ll also be disgraced by McConnell, Cruz and Trump?
I’m sure he will. There’s nothing Greg Fischer won’t do if there’s money for Louisville involved. Which, arguably and to your earlier point, is his job. Not sure I could do a job that required me to abandon all principle at the door, so hats off to him.
I’m sure our esteemed governor will be there. I’m equally sure he won’t pass on the chance of getting a selfie with Trump or Cruz, especially if he can get a gun into it. A chance to schmooze with people that might one day help his national political ambition, which is as obvious as his unsuitability for any office.
No chance of bringing a gun into that part of the show, even if your name’s Matt Bevin. Our political heroes will advocate for more guns in a special security section of the show that doesn’t allow guns. So if you want to pose with Donald Trump and your Glock, it’ll have to be outside.
Yeah. I’ll eat my hat if anyone with a gun is allowed within a 100 yards of our fearless Second Amendment advocates.
I bet it’ll taste better than anything at Flavor Town, too.
