Pigs Fly

I think I still miss Sam Sifton. The restaurant reviewer who took over for him in the New York Times gives a great review to a Greenwich Village restaurant where he ate "a half-pound of deep-fried bacon" and a fish skeleton. The butter there has been subjected to "notions of controlled spoilage." As Sam Sifton would have, Mr. Asimov compels me think of this as a good thing. But I'm afraid Sam Sifton would have made me hungrier for a fish skeleton. It is surprisingly hard to find an image of Sylvester the Cat eating a fish skeleton, so here is Tweety in a sandwich. I find myself thinking - perhaps unfairly - about how gawker, for example, would frame a story featuring carnival-goers, for example, eating "a half-pound of deep-fried bacon" in Mississippi, for example, as opposed to a restaurant critic doing the same in Greenwich Village. Related: John T. Edge - also in today's paper - on "Pig Wings."