Holy crap, it's a repost!
Quite literally the best restaurant in the world. Yeah that’s right, the BEST restaurant in the world. Now for those of you who are gasping, shouting at your screen declaring “How dare he?! What about the legendary El Bulli in Montjoi, Spain?!” Or, “Socla blue! Zertainlee you cannot beat ze Pierre Gagnaire in Paris!” Au contraire, Pepe le Pew! The world's best cuisine can undoubtedly be found at 1727 Brooklyn right in the heart of Kansas City, Missouri. Believe it. Confused? It’s simple, let me (in the immortal words of James Todd Smith) break it on down now. First, what is the best type of food in the world? Right, barbeque. Okay, next, what is the best place in the world to get barbeque? Right again, Arthur Bryant’s. Now you are enlighted. You see, at first you were inclined to disagree but now you can’t. So now, get down to business and plan that Pilgrimage. Repent sinners!
posted by Dwardisimo Rex at 9:55 PM
4 Comments:
Montoi's El Bulli? Pierre Gagnaire of Paris? They are third-rate palate cleansers compared to a smoked brisket sandwich slathered in the ambrosia that we mortals call Arthur Bryant's barbeque sauce. This is fare not only for a meal but for the ages. No person can dine at Bryant's only once, for the flavors form a culinary narcotic that compels anyone who has sampled it to return for more. It's no surprise that world leaders and other dignitaries crossing the continent insist on pausing in the midsection for a plate of pork ribs and fries from world's most sacred smoke pit -- tantalizingly visible from the dining room. To accept sustenance through the greasy window of Arthur Bryant's is to receive the holy host from the high priests of carnivorous perfection. Best restaurant in the world, indeed. Holy burnt ends, I'm hungry.
If you read Revelation 5:12, 4-6, it says, "And lo, wary the signs of the Coming of the Lord. Whence four riders descend upon man's Earth. Whence the Son of God arrives at the center of the richest land. And He tastes of the bone of the boar. And He dippeth his meat into the blessed nectar of the holy herbs, ere commencing the end of all Man. And it is called the Apocalypse." Most Biblical scholars agree this is a reference to Christ popping in for a one last slab of Arthur Bryant's ribs before annihilating the world.
Barbeque is for aspiring, wannabee system-geeks. It will never replace food.
Geeks? People, want to see a geek? Click his profile. Aw, hell, never mind. Here's what it says: Alcuin Bramerton is a human being seeking to operate happily in the post-religious world. The New Spirituality interests him. His friend, Flutterby, is not in physical incarnation on the Earth-plane at present, but he advises Alcuin on spiritual matters. And there is a lot happening. Unreported by the mainstream media, a man in a grey suit is standing by the yoghurt shelves in a supermarket in Cornwall. He is looking for morphine suppositories. This man is not the promised messiah. Coincidentally, at another remote location in southern England, a man with false teeth is eating a cheese soufflé for lunch. He bites on something hard. There is a second pair of false teeth in his cheese soufflé. This man is not the promised messiah either. Epiphanies of this kind illustrate how difficult it can be to determine the exact size of God in becquerels per cubic light year. But still the attempt is made.
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