Comments on: Scampo http://bellylove.wordpress.com/2008/04/20/hello-world/ Wed, 02 Dec 2009 01:59:35 +0000 http://wordpress.com/ hourly 1 By: Scampo II « Belly Love http://bellylove.wordpress.com/2008/04/20/hello-world/#comment-184 Scampo II « Belly Love Sat, 10 Jan 2009 13:00:45 +0000 http://bellylove.wordpress.com/2008/04/20/hello-world/#comment-184 [...] returning to its roots - the restaurant that started it all: Scampo. Enough time had passed since our first trip to Scampo that I was legitimately excited to go back. I had fond memories of the homemade mozzarella and my [...] [...] returning to its roots – the restaurant that started it all: Scampo. Enough time had passed since our first trip to Scampo that I was legitimately excited to go back. I had fond memories of the homemade mozzarella and my [...]

]]> By: Brian http://bellylove.wordpress.com/2008/04/20/hello-world/#comment-2 Brian Tue, 22 Apr 2008 20:51:43 +0000 http://bellylove.wordpress.com/2008/04/20/hello-world/#comment-2 This review is a triumph in almost every sense of the word. It sparkles with ingenuity, it drips with witty sarcasm, and it describes a fundamentally visceral experience better than Dickens or Proust ever could. Bravo. I say "*almost* every sense of the word” because this piece is lacking in one key respect. In my view, a good restaurant reviewer must be a philosopher first, and a food critic second. However, I get the feeling that beneath the suave urbanity of the reviewer lies a void – a deep philosophical lacuna that is almost, but not quite, concealed from the reader. In short, this review is more fulfilling in the *reading* than in the *knowing*. Like an amusing but crude lawn ornament, it is more craft than art. Like an ornate façade covering a crumbling tenement, it is more show than substance. Perhaps, instead of using a lighter to torture barnyard animals, the reviewer should spend some time reflecting on these simple truths. What is food, after all, if not food for the mind? And while you’re thinking about that, you might also want to remember that revenge is a dish best served with a sultana zabaglione, whatever the hell that is. This review is a triumph in almost every sense of the word. It sparkles with ingenuity, it drips with witty sarcasm, and it describes a fundamentally visceral experience better than Dickens or Proust ever could. Bravo.

I say “*almost* every sense of the word” because this piece is lacking in one key respect. In my view, a good restaurant reviewer must be a philosopher first, and a food critic second. However, I get the feeling that beneath the suave urbanity of the reviewer lies a void – a deep philosophical lacuna that is almost, but not quite, concealed from the reader.

In short, this review is more fulfilling in the *reading* than in the *knowing*. Like an amusing but crude lawn ornament, it is more craft than art. Like an ornate façade covering a crumbling tenement, it is more show than substance.

Perhaps, instead of using a lighter to torture barnyard animals, the reviewer should spend some time reflecting on these simple truths. What is food, after all, if not food for the mind?

And while you’re thinking about that, you might also want to remember that revenge is a dish best served with a sultana zabaglione, whatever the hell that is.

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