She’s a lucky motherf-cker
Oh such language, Gwyneth. What will the MiniVan think of such language?
It’s Thursday. It’s GOOP Day. Another newsletter, another f-cking recipe. This time, she cusses during her opening paragraph – of course she’s cussing the context of being fortunate enough to have dinner cooked for her by Mario Batali in the presence of Emeril Lagasse.
A couple of months ago, I had the great pleasure of being invited to Mario Batali’s house for dinner (Yes, I am a lucky motherf***er!). Emeril Lagasse was also there as a guest, so I was curious to see what the great Batali would serve to dazzle a fellow super chef. The meal did not disappoint, and as Mario said it was an incredibly easy endeavor, I asked him if I could share it with you. To begin with, Mario served a beautiful Spanish cheese, Torta del Casar, with grissini (Italian breadsticks), crostini with tomato and boquerones (Spanish anchovies prepared in vinegar), and cold white wine. Then we sat down to an incredible meal and a brilliant Elvis impersonation by Emeril’s six-year-old son.
Are you clenching your fists? Are you pounding your keyboard with hate? Are you so irritated by her smug namedroppage?
Of course you are. She grates on your last nerve.
But she’s also benevolent enough to take the time to share with you what Mario created that night. Here you go minions! Do it yourself! Never mind that she sat back sipping wine while everyone else slaved around for her.
Gwyneth Paltrow – don’t hate her because everyone loves her. It’ll only drive you crazy.
Click here for the latest GOOP recipe. By the way - it’s chicken. You know how I feel about chicken. Chicken sucks. I know I’m a bratty bitch but if I get invited anywhere and it’s chicken on the menu, I am instantly disappointed. Maybe Mario Batali’s chicken has golden nectar dripping out of it. Or something.