Thursday, August 11, 2011

Scott Wolf, Party of Five


Welcome to Con de Struction

Our Mission: At Con de Struction, we focus on deconstructing the average dinning experience.

Our Food: An ever-changing menu consists of unique combinations of classic American comfort food deconstructed, reconstructed and re-deconstructed until only the slightest hint of the dish’s pure essence remains.

Enjoy tonight’s three-course offering in the motif of a summer backyard barbecue.

Ap peti Zer

Potato chips with Greek yogurt and dill dipping sauce:

A large, unwashed potato arrives with a small cup of oil and a paring knife. The diner will whittle this potato into a sex object, dip it in the imported grapeseed oil and fuck himself/herself while our eager waitstaff throws salt in the diner’s face. For the full culinary experience, this traumatic incident is accompanied by a dill-infused yogurt foot massage administered by a Greek man who keeps changing his pronunciation of the word “gyro.”

En Trée

Old-fashioned Cheeseburgers:

Our twist on the classic American cheeseburger starts with an eye dropper half-filled with a paté of the finest waygu beef infused with bright, organic herbs grown at a community garden, and topped off with tears from the very bovine you’re consuming.

This nostalgic nosh concludes with three lines of pure, powdered Vermont sharp cheddar cut with the crumbs of an artisan, 7-grain loaf baked with sunflower seeds plucked directly from the beaks of local song birds. Diners are read disparaging e-mails sent by their mothers while they use our straws—made with 100-percent recycled pool noodles—to snort the delicious cheese and bread powder off our vintage fun house mirrors.  

A vegetarian version of this dish is available where the beef has been replaced with a puree of squashes native to the American Southwest, finished with local herbs, and accented by the sweat of migrant workers paid no more than $2 an hour to pick squashes native to the American Southwest.

De s Sert

Root Beer Float:

A chilled bottle of house-brewed root beer is served next to a frosty glass mug. The bottle of root beer is broken over the diner’s head, and—in rare cases where consciousness is not lost—the ice-coated mug is used as a bludgeoning device to ensure a complete blackout. The diner awakes to find they’ve been hooked to an IV drip of pure, organic vanilla extract, and are dressed in the garb of an old-timey milkman.