The days are getting shorter than Danny Devito and the nights are drawing in like Van Gogh: autumn is here and it’s turning everything a darker shade of pumpkin. All we really want to do is sail down to the equator and eat things off giant, emerald-coloured leaves.
Whatever the weather, beautiful food is beautiful food. And as such, we present to you This Week in Food Porn, MUNCHIES’ guide to the most beautiful food to click its way onto Instagram in the past seven days.
Videos by VICE
Let’s just say that someone wakes you up with a cup of tea. In fact, no, they haven’t brought you tea—they’ve woken you up by coughing and scratching themselves, leaving you to stumble to the kitchen and make your own tea in a chipped mug you got free from a builder’s merchants. It’s times like this when all you want in this goddamn world is for someone, somewhere, to have plopped a fig into a granola cup and laid it out for breakfast on your beautiful, polished oak table. Is that so much to ask? Well, probably, yeah. But hey, at least you have tea.
This is, apparently, a “beetroot and chocolate brownie loaf type thing.” Presumably in the same way that Paul Newman is “a human-faced man type thing.”
Oh Jamie, you poor liquid-lipped fool, you chuntering, baby-haired tool, it’s going to take so much more than a delicious simmering pan of B12 to stop me looking tired this winter. It’s probably going to take one of those whole body, five-fluid youth infusions the cast of Friends have been enjoying for the last ten years. But I’ll take the fish stew anyway, thanks. Yeah. Cheers bruv.
When I die and my soul floats up to the sky, as angels guide me to my rest and I soar towards the dying of the light, this is the scene I want to be looking down on. If that means I have to shuffle off this mortal coil choking on a piece of sourdough or by having my airwaves punctured by a walnut then so be it. So be it.
This is what happens to six baby carrots if they’ve spent the previous five years reading poetry to orphan soil and teaching rabbits how to sing.
Smoked and roasted nuts, you say? Just throw on a little Miles Davies, loosen the tie on my smoking jacket, lie back, and chow down on a rosemary-flavoured nut and paprika-sprinkled chickpea, you say? Well hand me a mother-freaking bowl, says I.
If David Lynch made Cuban medianoche and conch fritters with fresh guava juice, rather than filling YouTube with tsunami-haired tutorials on how to cook your own quinoa and broccoli then this, my friends, this is what the Log Lady would have for lunch.
Hey Starbucks, get your head out of your gusset and feast your weary eyes upon what a Pumpkin Spice Latte syrup looks like when you get a horse-riding witch to make it. That’s right: sit ye near some old Cavern’s Mouth and brood, pals, because this looks awesome.
You can put enough mustard to unblock a sink in that drink and I’m still going to ask for the shade of your nail varnish.
That reminds me—I’ve run out of sanitary towels.
Feed a cat smoked kippers and scrambled duck eggs for breakfast and it will love you for a day. Boot a stick covered in mud into a nearby puddle and a dog will love you forever.
