Liquid Launch
If Memory Swerves™, ‘twas on this day in culinary history — August 7, 2013 — that a distasteful "food" science experiment resulted in a ghastly display of collective "projectiling" at a media event in London. The episode was at the unveiling — and unfortunate ingesting — of the world's first bovine stem cell lab-grown burger, and if the words “bovine stem cell lab-grown burger” aren't enough to churn your stumoch, consider that the cost to make the one thin burger was $325,000 — a far cry from a value-menu slider at a drive-through window. ‘Twas paid for by Google® founder Sergey Brinn out of a desire to introduce joylessness into a proper flesh eater’s world. According to Mr. Moneybag's PowerPoint™ presentation on the future of food production, the hamburger “meat” was produced using stem cells from ”cow shoulder muscle” that were multiplied in “a nutrient solution” and placed into petri dishes, where the cultures did what cultures do, eventually becoming muscle cells and then tiny strips of muscle fiber, tens of thousands of which were used to make the five-ounce burger, which also contained natural colorings, weeks-old breadcrumbs and everyone’s favorite salt substitute, Missus Dash. The uncooked, in-vitro meat substitute had the appearance of cat food — and not the Fancy Feast® kind that lonely birds scarf down with their kitty kats on special occasions, but rather the generic offerings in the rusty tins that are so vile, one has to hold a Lysol® soaked rag up to one's nostrils whilst scooping it out. The tasting itself was conducted at the arse end of the proceedings and as cameras rolled, a brave trio of international volunteers — American food futurist and author Josh Schonwald, Dutch researcher Dr. Mark Post and Austrian food scientist Hanni Rützler — commenced to choke down their portion of cooked tissue — when something overcame the English PR executive MC-ing the event — Anne Marie Hollander (pictured) — who seemed to pause in slow motion before painting the walls with a vomitous cascade of such force that the meeting came to a dead quiet. Post was the first to respond, attempting to catch his breath before "unswallowing” his burger with a ferocity that matched Ms. Hollander’s. Rützler attempted to be more discrete, blowing groceries beneath the table, showering his loafers and trousers, as well as those of author Schonwald, who answered in kind — or rather, unkind — whistling beef with putrid gusto upon his fellow panel members. This set off a dreadful daisy chain of activity, as journalists in the audience heave-hoed with thunderous abandon, some darting from the room only to splash the walls and unsuspecting bystanders in the hallway, who themselves booted with vigor, their rancid emissions charting a course to the lavatory. ‘Twas a horror show more frightening than an unwatchable Rob Zombie movie, but in the end no one died, not even a bloody cow, come to think of it.
