How have your New Year’s resolutions held up? As for me, I resolved to improve my diet by cooking my own meals instead of eating out. If you don’t count the third or fourth, I made it all the way to Jan. 6. I was done in by my radio co-host, Anneli. After our show (Wednesdays from 4 to 6 p.m. on the Voice of Vashon, 101.9 FM — shameless plug ) she said, “Hey, you want to go to The Hardware Sto…”
“YES!” I screamed, “Hurry, hurry let’s go!”
I really can’t be faulted for stumbling off the resolution bandwagon when she was practically begging me. I don’t remember 2015’s resolutions being so hard to stick to. Of course, last year I promised myself I would exercise less, eat more salt and saturated fat and drink harder. I guess it really is all about making realistic goals.
So with my solemn oath to not patronize restaurants dashed, I figured the best way to beat them was to join them. So I’ve been making plans to open Vashon’s newest eatery. Even though the failure rate for new restaurants is among the highest of any business and I have no practical experience in the industry, I do have one thing in my favor. I have never let facts or common sense get in the way of one of my ideas.
Yet with all my naivete, even I have seen some glaring errors in the basic foodie business model. Take for instance this gluten-free fad. Almost any place you walk into offers their glutens for free, which leaves a lot of money in the customer’s pocket. I plan to buck the trend and sell my glutens at a premium. I have already found an exclusive gluten rancher in Nigeria (he’s a prince, no less) and plan to sell non-GMO glutens for an obscene amount of money. Cha-ching!
As for a restaurant itself, I want to stay in the spirit of recycling, reusing and repurposing. I will join the 10 or so states that sanction the consumption of road kill and open a chain of outlets called, “Offally Good Eats!” I am stuck on a catchy slogan, though. I have narrowed it down to, “Where mystery meat is more than just a saying!” or “From Car Grill to Char Grill!”
Everything will be slow-cooked, which is fitting because the critters themselves were not too fleet of foot. Have a hearty breakfast of flattened flapjacks or a bumper crop of raccoon nuggets. Go on a fender bender at the all-you-can eat buffet. For dessert, there’s always room for my sugar coated “Iffy Pops.” They’re everyone’s favorite carcass candy. And remember, it’s always organic and always sun-dried.
If meals on wheels aren’t your thing, how about a plate of sushi? Now I believe in responsible, sustainable food on the menu, so I am opening the world’s first chicken sushi bar. It’s named Way Too Fresh Chicken! or WTF Chicken! for short.
In fact, I’ll beat sushi chefs at their own game. While that tuna was swimming in the Pacific yesterday, my chicken might be staring at you from across the table. That’s right, these free-range fowl will live right in the restaurant. It will be like picking your own lobster at a seafood joint. I know what you’re thinking, “Won’t the floor be covered with chicken poop?” Um, yeah, it’s called ambience, like peanut shells on the floor of those fancy French restaurants.
One question that invariably comes up is how does the dispatching of your delicious, nutritious meal actually work? You can thank science for that answer. I simply perch the chosen chicken in a room broadcasting “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo!” As the small avian brain tries to understand why anyone would watch such a show, its head explodes — quick and painless. Before you know it, you’ll be served a plate full of glistening beige meat. Bon appetit!
Some of my naysayers have suggested that serving raw chicken will give customers so many gastrointestinal illnesses that even cruise lines will be envious. Well, I have that covered, too, with our homemade Amoxi-Mints. Every meal comes with a minty fresh complete course of broad spectrum antibiotics.
Say you’re allergic to penicillin? Then give your immune system the night off at my “We’re Nuts for Allergies” diner. You’ll have hypo-allergenic food paste delivered right to your table by a sterilized drone. Spice up your meal with our special recipe condiment that doubles as a hand sanitizer and wash it all down with Auntie-Histimines’ famous epinephrine shooters. And what do the kids say about our yummy Anaphylaxis Shake? “Swell!”
— Chris Austin is an award-winning writer and circulation manager at The Beachcomber.
