Welcome back to the weekly roundup here at Eating Our Words, where we firmly believe that crawfish have been mollycoddled for far too long in this city. With that in mind, get prepared for this crawfish season with a little primer from our own Katharine Shilcutt. It's simple, easy-to-follow, and - frankly - sexy as hell.
We started the week off right with a call to arms to catch and incarcerate the jerks who stole the beehives right out from under Haven. It's kind of distressing that honeybees really are starting to become endangered. It makes me afraid some news report is going to make me watch the classroom lecture from The Happening again. *shudder*
Things got even weirder than that when we learned of the cupcake vending machine soon to open in - where else? - River Oaks. Although, honestly, if they can put one right next to it that dispenses Mexican hot chocolate, I might actually drive over there.
Cheese is awesome, and there's a lot of cheese-related business going on around town, so you might want to check that out. There are also collaborative Umami dinners to behold, as well as some authentic Hanoi-style cooking featuring a dish I wasn't interested in at all until I read the description: "rice cakes stuffed with meat." And now, of course, it's all I want.
It wasn't all fun news this week. Sylvia Casares of Sylvia's Enchilada Kitchen was shot and wounded, with her boyfriend Michael Warren the number one suspect. Casares is expected to make a full recovery, and Warren has been found and arrested for aggravated assault. Sylvia's unfortunate wounding has brought out both well-wishers and trolls across the web, along with a poorly timed press release that didn't get looked over before it ran.
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In lighter items, we had a look at some of the wacky ways people have died while eating food, and also at blatant food rip-offs and who they hurt (or don't hurt). Sometimes genericists are able to crack the magic codes of certain foods, and sometimes they aren't. If you don't believe me, try some generic Cap'n Crunch. It's sad.
A burger and beer flight seems to be just about one of the best things you could do, ever, so go board one. Also, go get some fine-tasting barbecue to whet your appetite for what promises to be a truly epic bad barbecue tasting. You can still vote for the worst 'cue, so go do that. Don't let us down, Houston. We want to be dolefully crunching barbecue-flavored roofing shingles by next week. Because we hate ourselves, I guess.