A satire taking its cue from this amazing restaurant review for Guy's American Kitchen and Bar in The New York Times.
But what do you do when people write like this (Mikla) and are dead earnest?
I guess you mine it for those beautiful, I-could-never-make-this-stuff-up phrases like phantasmagorical tentacles; or euphoric visual and palatal counfoundment*; or the ‘Birdshit’ ice cream.
I guess in the spirit of transparency I should mention I interviewed with The Guide İstanbul - and well, let's just say I did not get the job. You are all bright people, you do the math. Also, in the spirit of transparency, this was the first review I clicked on. I don't believe it was just dumb luck. Fortunately, the 'birdshit' ice cream looks yummy and if I weren't deathly allergic to pistachios I might even try it.
*confoundment, maybe? And maybe that's not just my palatal;-)