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The 12 Days of Christmas

A look back at 2015's restaurant trends through song


Merry Christmas, hungry people.

On the first day of Christmas, my restaurants gave to me…

One kale salad. Which is a really nice gift because I can chew it for six or seven days. No, I don’t inject steroids into my cheeks. They’re naturally buff from all that kalercize.

On the second day of Christmas, my restaurant gave to me…

Two craft cocktails. Except these are from 2,000 B.C. Those other bars only go back to the Prohibition era. Our bartender, who’s getting his masters in paleontology, first chews starch and lets it ferment for a few weeks in a bag made of buffalo hide. He spikes it with a little wooly mammoth bitters, and serves it in a real hominid skull. If you order four for your entire table, we’ll sacrifice a virgin in your honor.

On the third day of Christmas, my restaurant gave to me…

Three hard stools. Seriously, this tiny, arty stool looks cool and feels like it may be entering me. I’m not sure what doctors call it when bone rubs on bone. There’s a technical term, and it’s what sitting on this feels like. I’ve scheduled us MRIs after dinner.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my restaurant gave to me…

Four times the noise. I think it’s because carpet is no longer cool. Neither are drapes or booths or soft materials of any kind. That concrete floor and that steel bar and all that old rusty metal and the roll-up garage doors make IT A LITTLE LOUD IN HERE! CAN YOU HEAR ME?! ANYWAY, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH WILL YOU MARRY ME?! NO, NOT CARRY! I’M NOT DRUNK. I SAID MAAAARRRRY!

On the fifth day of Christmas, my restaurant gave to me…

Five maids a’milkin. Seriously, this new farm to table concept has maids who milk cows next to your table. For an extra $10, you can milk them yourselves.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my restaurant gave to me…

Counter service. You see, servers are expensive, so why don’t you pay at this counter and we’ll have a busser bring out your food. Have you heard of payroll taxes?

On the seventh day of Christmas, my restaurant gave to me…

Craft beer. We bring the hops, yeast and everything you need to your table. You get to brew it yourself! It takes a couple weeks. You live here now.

On the eight day of Christmas, my restaurant gave to me.

A farmer. You should really get to know the people who grow your food. This is Dan. He’ll be sitting with you and your wife tonight. Go ahead and ask him farmy questions. He sure does look a little uncomfortable, but once you get to know him he’ll loosen up. Tell them about the importance of manure, Dan.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my restaurant gave to me…

Edison light bulbs. Despite all of the advances in light technology, this one is just so sexy. That filament in the bulb looks like what would happen if you sent electricity through a Georgia O’Keefe painting.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my restaurant gave to me…

Sous vide llama eyeballs. You really should be eating the entire animal, not just the sexy cuts like filet and tenderloin. And you should eat different animals. There are so many animals we can eat. Sure, cows are sexy. But llamas are the new trend coming out of New York.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my restaurant gave to me…

No ****ing gluten. Everything at the table is gluten-free. Even though only one percent of the human population is allergic to gluten, recent studies conducted by Karen on Facebook have suggested that all of us are. If you eat gluten, you puff up until you die. This is a no-death restaurant.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my restaurant gave to me…

Cold brew coffee. Yes, I know it’s 45 degrees outside and hot coffee may SEEEEEEM like a good idea, but you see, cold brew is the future. We brew it cold so that it becomes real bitter and kind of sweet. It basically tastes like you made a milkshake out of really old Tootsie Rolls.

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