Dateline, Seattle (AP-Reuters)
Despite a concerted public outcry, it has been confirmed that local chef Ethan Sole has recently placed so called “zombie meat” on the menu of his popular Queen Anne restaurant–the oddly named How to Cook a Revenant. While the health department and a litany of other local agencies scramble to respond, intrepid Seattle foodies are lining up out the door on a nightly basis.
The unusual venue has two tables which can accommodate a total of five diners each. Either due to size–or an effort to maximize exclusivity–How to Cook a Revenant does not accept reservations. Restaurant spokesman George Bomero noted “when you consider the difficulty of procuring the proper…ingredients, it’s easy to understand why we must restrict the number of patrons per service. But we guarantee that those who do get in will enjoy a meal unlike no other.” When pressed, Bomero licked his lips and loosened his tie before being hustled into a Lincoln Continental by two large men in pinstripe suits. The town car then recklessly peeled away from the curb, nearly running down a jug band of buskers and a cyclist on a recumbent bicycle.
While no industry reviews have been published as of yet, those who claim to have eaten at How to Cook a Revenant give it four stars, followed by enthusiastic raves. “Outlandish,” “killer,” and “puts the avant in avant-garde” are just a few of the observations flying around suddenly overloaded message boards with names like Flezh and We Eat Them Back and Rachael Ray is Next. Rumors about the content of the menu are rife. A source identifying herself only as “Petal” claims that the appetizer list includes elbow in aspic, line-caught “zushi,” a chilled raw flank gazpacho, and pan seared skel-cheeks. Mains are said to consist of a wild greens toe-chop salad, sweetbreads, twice-fired marrow, and braised lemongrass zom-belly. There are also rumors of a t-bone z-bone, rack o’ ribz, and a “three-pound porterhouse with balsamic ulnar reduction, coccyx-mint jelly, beurre-rouge, and new potatoes.”
Diners leaving the restaurant have been both cheered and booed by an array of concerned citizens, including placard-waving protesters claiming to represent the Occupy Anthropophogite movement. After one protester shouted “cannibals!” an expensively-dressed diner and his wife retorted, “yeah, and cows used to be alive too, but if a truck backed up and started handing out free steaks, none of you assholes would be complaining, would you?” The wife laughed before brushing a protester aside to enter her Range Rover. She then rolled down the window, held out a doggie bag, and laughed with what was either lipstick or blood in her teeth: “we can’t wait to nuke this shit for breakfast tomorrow!”
A young couple in hipster attire also stopped to marvel at the hostility of the crowd as it chanted “eating zombie will make you a zombie!” The couple laughed, their gums an unusual shade of crimson. “Bacon is for vegans,” the woman hissed. “Zombie is forever.” The man gripped his crotch at length, gesturing toward a squatter’s collective before yelling “bite me, fascists!”
Post-dining couple who chose not to be identified, as they appear to be shield the contents of their mouths.
All indications are that zombie meat is a bit gamey but surprisingly tender. Apparently it also tastes like chicken. Or as one diner explained, “it tastes like what chicken probably tastes like to other chickens–at least to the ones who prefer expired ham that’s been lying in the sun for a week.”
At a news conference on the steps of City Hall–where he was met with an angry throng of protestors as well as an equal number of fans–Ethan Sole answered a variety of questions. When asked “where do you procure the meat?” he leaned over and whispered into his lawyer’s ear before confidently stating “certain highlands pastures and meadows where zombies tend to congregate. These facilities, are, of course, regularly inspected by the USDA and the zombies are of the highest quality available, both free-range and grass-fed.” When asked “how can they be grass-fed?” he again leaned over to his lawyer before answering “well, they’re fed people who are grass-fed.”
The other tan meat.
After concerted booing, Sole became serious. “Listen, we all know that very soon we are going to be faced with a serious food shortage on this planet. What I am trying to spearhead here is a real and sustainable way to address that shortage.” When members of Fred Phelps’s Westboro Baptist Church rushed the stage screaming “abomination!” Sole calmly added “also, Z meat doesn’t need to be refrigerated, which saves energy and lowers the amount of greenhouse gases we as an industry release into the environment.” When contacted, a PETA spokesperson said “we have no issue with zombie meat whatsoever. In fact, we support it as an alternative to chicken and pork.”
Ethan Sole demonstrates the proper way to appear only slightly repulsed by marbled zombie flank.
We contacted Dr. Henry Ely Kyburg on the set of the forthcoming blockbuster movie World War Z, for which he is consulting. Dr. Kyburg is the head of Necrotic Studies at the Herschel Gordon Lewis Department of the University of Michigan, holds a Masters degree in Kinesthetic Physiognomy and dual Phd’s in Epidermal Mortification and The Theoretics of Decomposition. He has also worked on a contract basis with Bechtel, NORAD, OSHA, FEMA, Amazon, and Blackwater.
Clearly not one to suffer fools gladly, Dr. Kyburg insisted he had time to answer one question only. When asked “would you eat zombie meat?” he simply said “you are insane” before hanging up.
"Did you not just hear me say I have no more time for you?"
In any case, the restaurant remains a popular destination with tourists and locals alike. Ethan Sole has also announced that he will be releasing a new How to Cook a Revenant cookbook, complete with “a hundred and twenty astounding recipes and suggested wine pairings.” In addition, he has reportedly signed a deal with Hormel, the makers of Spam, to market a new product called “Zpam.” Sole insists that Zpam already has massive advance orders in Hawaii and Kentucky.
$22.99 a can
At press time all indications were that How to Cook a Revenant wasn’t going to close anytime soon, either due to the dictates of local authorities or enraged citizens. If nothing else this reporter can attest (while standing down the street and breathing in fumes from the Italian-made wood fired oven) to becoming thoroughly nauseated.
And then an hour later, ravenously hungry.
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I could just read dismissive comments from Dr. Kyburg all day.
Z-porthouse, medium rare, for me, please.