T is for Throw-up

I'm a little behind, but I just started poking around the T Style Food Issue.  I told my friend Mike I was going to watch what I say, but come on, what the fuck is going on over there?  A story written by a self-proclaimed picky eater in L.A. who doesn't eat bananas, avocados, lamb, or dill?  Cod cheeks as the "new staple"?  A $950 basket backpack as a "dining must-have"?  A writer who has to call the Cherry Marketing Institute in Michigan to figure out that you can buy frozen cherries at the supermarket? 

Reading the Times' Dining section these days is like watching Rosie O'Donnell spilling out of her orange t-shirt and long shorts while playing Andie McDowell's candy-snorting retarded sister in a Hallmark movie.  It's horrifying on so many levels, but I'm compelled by its Medusa-like spell to watch and wither away.