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#175

Recently I ordered breakfast from a hotel restaurant. I ordered eggs and toast. I got eggs, toast, and a leaf. Garnishes are among the most absurd paradoxes of the universe. Is there anything so bereft of purpose as food you can't eat? It's crazy that we even have a word for it. Next time I get an inedible green thing on my dinner plate, I shall politely inform the waiter that the cook forgot to husk my meal. Here's another silly garnish: a paper-thin slice of orange, split along a radius, and twisted all around so it rests on the plate like it came out of some vegetarian's torture chamber. I got one of these once. I ate it to put it out of its misery, but I could barely taste it. For the amount of money that restaurant spent to have a chef slice that orange so thin and arrange it so meticulously, I could have had a whole orange. I think I'm going to open a restaurant that sells only garnishes. Nobody would go there, but I could show it as a performance art exhibit and get lots of critics praising me with big words on how aptly I expose and satirize how much value our superficial society places on hollow appearances.