volidity: IPA: /vəʊlɪdɪtɪ/
Noun
A style of rhetoric characterized by its focus on both minutiae and grand theory (and reversals thereof), tendency to embark on tangents, and provision of solutions where problems are not widely perceived. Often it attempts to make the fictional real and meaningless profound.
Rarely is the question asked, is our young adults learning? In New York City, this is a particularly pointed problem, considering the vast hordes of 20-something year old hipsters who inhabit the borough of Brooklyn. These hipsters don't want to grow up and be adults, even in the face of becoming parents themselves. Our hipster youth is thus infantilized, becoming "kidults" who only act for the sake of youthful nostalgia--e.g. ignoring the 2012 U.S. presidential election until Big Bird was threatened by Willard "Mittens" Romney. How do we reach these young people to teach them about science?
Long ago, when this blog was yet young, Your Editor-in-Chief authored a piece on the notion of "Chick-fil-a conservatism," predicting that it would become the predominant ideology of the Republican Party. Once again, the Volidity Report has proven itself to be on the cutting edge, now that fried chicken of a Christian vintage is in the spotlight.
We've all heard of Colonel Sanders' Famous Bowl™--and why not? It's famous! Sure, you might say, the Famous Bowl was introduced in 2006 and Sanders had already been dead for 26 years. Also, you may note that this dish happens to be regarded as a rather poor experience by some. But where Patton Oswalt sees a "failure pile in a sadness bowl" the Volidity Report saw its potential as a communal centerpiece around which Your Editor's flatmates could gather and feast. Naturally, all of the usual rules would apply, and a friturier, saucier, and entremetier--among others--would have to be recruited, since this constitutes a multi-course meal all in one bowl.
Except for Native Americans like Pocahontas and the Pilgrims, the United States of America is a nation of immigrants, and no city reflects that more than New York City. As a New York-based outlet of the East Coast lamestream media, the Volidity Report publishes cultural stories of local interest, to appeal to its constituents (especially those of means). A quick search of the internets reveals that second (2nd) most reported ethnicity in NYC is Italian while the Jewish community in the Greater New York Metropolitan area is larger than anywhere else in the world outside Israel. Both of these groups arrived in large numbers in the late 19th century and settled in close proximity to one another in Manhattan (in Little Italy and the Lower East Side respectively), Brooklyn, and the Bronx. In tribute to this cultural melting pot, the Volidity Report resolved to make an appropriate dish of melted goodness, and arrived of course at that great staple, the pizza bagel.
American food culture is much mocked around the world for a host of reasons, which have been partially addressed (and redressed!) by this publication in its examination and reimagining of the Double Down and the McGriddles. But a major divide remains! While Americans nuke frozen TV and AOL dinners in the microwave using the language of war yet with the same passivity of their digital consumption habits, citizens of Old Europe are preparing and eating multi-course meals with varied fresh ingredients of the type served at your average grand-hôtel restaurant.
Luckily, the Volidity Report is on the case. As an idealist publication, the Volidity Report believes that reconciliation between the followers of haute cuisine and the consumers of delicious handheld frozen abominations like Hot Pockets. Wait! Haute cuisine...hot pockets...perhaps the answer can be a combination of the two? Perhaps pairing the intricate preparations and quality ingredients of haute cuisine with the handheld gooey goodness of Hot Pockets? The internet tells me that modern haute cuisine was codified by Georges Auguste Escoffier, and provided for dishes that were served at once, aesthetically pleasing, and prepared by a team of chefs with divided responsibilities. With this in mind, and considering that Escoffier is long dead, we decided to bring in the famed Escoffiette as a consultant.
What's more American than apple pie? I would suggest the following: pancakes, sausage patties, scrambled eggs, and (the aptly named) American cheese. Thankfully, upstanding corporate-citizen McDonald's is here to help. When not single-handedly rescuing the economy with jobs, McDonald's is hard at work trying to combine these ingredients and bring them to the people, for patriotism. Hence the McGriddles1--in full, the Sausage, Egg & Cheese McGriddles®2--launched in 2003. Similar to the KFC (and Volidity Report) Double Down, the McGriddles maximizes efficiency by placing all its components into a convenient, hand-held model.
Exceeding even the Double Down in ambition, the McGriddles takes the standard breakfast entrée (even the word is French!) of pancakes with a side of eggs and sausage and makes it into an all-American sandwich. But what of gluten-free Americans, who have long suffered as an out-group (we all know the epithets: "nobreadniks", "gluten freaks", etc.), deserve their due as well. Thus did Read-a-Book and Your Humble Editor embark on a quest to make a meal that was a true national dish for the reasons above, but also local, organic and gluten-free.
Living in the major urban center and global city that is New York City, one encounters two seemingly diametrically opposed food cultures: one is of the foodies and locavores, who cherish organic small-scale farming and elect to eat bucketfull after bucketfull of baked kale; the other is centered on industrial food production and the frying of corn, chicken, and the like, then eating them for low prices at odd hours of the night, from a KFC (both Kennedy and Kentucky Fried Chicken, of course). Your Editor-in-Chief here at the Volidity Report has decided he would do his darndest to unite these factions, despite his steadfast position as a Chick-Fil-A conservative. Naturally, I wanted to get to the heat of the meat, as I believe the young folks say. My investigation led me to the food item depicted in the video below:
Yes, the Double Down; because of man's insatiable desire for chicken and his tendency toward efficiency, the superfluous bun has been eliminated in favor of fully actualized poultry potential. And it's not even the unhealthiest fast food sandwich ever, maybe! But how to appeal to the locavore organic crowd—who scoffed at this "sandwich" when it first emerged—and solve this "omnivore's dilemma"? Thus I took the advice of the advertisement above and proceeded to "unthink" the Double Down—and reconceive it as a foodie dish created from local, organic ingredients!
