A henchman of glossop-glazed panchan served on a slough of micro-beaded frou-frou.
Gordon Ramsay has come under fire this week for failing to provide adequate descriptions for his food.
The Trading Standards Authority was contacted by an enraged diner who ordered ‘suckling urchin en papillote served with a brine shrimp aspic and a seasonal medley of distressed West Watford tubers’ at Ramsay’s Petrus restaurant, and received limp steamed fish and two boiled potatoes.
Diner Janice Tittsout said she was “disappointed” by the top chef’s efforts.
“I spent £55 on something that looked like something my dog sicked up,” she said. “It didn’t even have any parsley on the side. I can cook this shit at home, I don't expect it at what's supposed to be a top restaurant.”
Closer investigation by Gusset News reporters, who dined undercover on Tuesday, revealed that Ramsay’s ‘partially sedated live monkey, bamboo shoots and papaya, moistened with coconut hollandaise, wrapped in grilled banana leaves and presented on a skewer’ turned out to be Wetherspoons meat curry.
A ‘miniature gateau flavoured with liquorice from the Spanish Maine concealing a heart of liquid fire glazed with quince jelly and served on lapsang creme anglaise with baby pear and finished with an arabesque of purest gold’ was a glace cherry with a garnish of egg yolk.
When confronted in his kitchen, disgusted Ramsay furiously denied the charges, saying he had merely taken “fucking poetic license.”
“I’m an artist, yeah? A fucking artist. And this is what artists do. They fucking embellish. If you don’t fucking like it, you can kiss my hirsute posterior, sweatily presented in an enclothed nylon pantile.”
At this point, Ramsay became so angry he had to sit down and demanded a lustre of water freshly drawn from a Swiss seaside spa town and presented au naturel in a cylinder of glass.
