by Alexandra Petri
I am supposed to be writing about the Republican National Convention, but I’d like to submit this review instead; the content is essentially the same.
What a grand party! A delicious five-course meal! Dr. Hannibal Lecter surged from triumph to triumph.
With his showman’s flair, Dr. Lecter really crafted a striking contrast to the other party, where he reports that things are going very badly. He made a wonderful dish with fava beans and a nice chianti. Weird that the census in this neighborhood seems to have stopped for some reason, but I’m sure it had nothing to do with Dr. Lecter.
It is not my job to say whether what was happening should have been happening, or if there was anything in the feast to be concerned about, so I am here to tell you that everything Hannibal Lecter served looked AMAZING. This is the kind of uplifting meal that this nation has long been waiting for, and it was a sumptuous repast in every way, a striking contrast to the other dinners I’ve sat through, full of empty chairs, where people said in ominous tones that they were losing loved ones and didn’t know when the carnage would stop.
Throughout the dinner, Dr. Lecter made wonderful, uplifting remarks, like “This is lamb’s kidney,” and “This is beef heart,” and “I have an ethical butcher” — and it was not my job to evaluate any of those claims. What I can evaluate is the wine selection, and it was INCREDIBLE! It was even aged in a “special barrel," which Dr. Lecter said with a laugh that some critics have described as sinister.
Have I heard that Dr. Lecter kills and eats people? Yes. But at the party I attended, Dr. Lecter denounced people who seek to eat human flesh as monsters. Also, Dr. Lecter welcomed more than a dozen guests and DID NOT EAT ANY OF THEM! What an optimistic vision, the thing the country is craving right now.
I hate a sad party, and the other dinner parties I’ve attended recently were all remote, because they say it is not safe to go out in the night because of some sort of man on the loose who hunts fellow humans in a transparent plastic raincoat. At Dr. Lecter’s dinner party, I felt as though none of that was happening! You know, maybe it’s — not? I would sure prefer to think it wasn’t!
Is it my responsibility to be at all skeptical about anything that is happening? I don’t think so. The takeaway from this meal was clear: It was gorgeously plated. The sauce was drizzled into a beautiful arc, like the curve of a pheasant’s wing; the chiaroscuro effect of the lighting made Dr. Lecter’s cheekbones really pop. The soup was incredible, a rich maroon color, and the roast, which made an alarming screaming sound during the final stages of its being put into the oven, came out lovely and crisp.
How nice it is to attend a party where you can forget about all the death that is happening, and be reassured that you are not feasting on human flesh. Technically, it is not legal to eat human flesh, and I of course frown on it, but we can all agree that it’s a big bummer if someone shows up at your dinner party and says it has to stop because it is a crime scene.
This is a man who knows how to live. The how of the meal is so much more important than the what, which, again, I am assured was pork, even though he did say some kind of suspicious things about how the pork “had been rude” and “played the flute badly.” I don’t need to follow up. Not my job to disapprove!
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