#111: Fine dining and fine dinners
Hello foodies,
What’s fine about the world right now? So many things. Can I think of any right now? Not many, no. Sorry. But what can offer you are cartoons. Two of them.
This week we have a racoon adventure gone wrong and a counfounding snacking situation.
Giving the butler a piece of my mind,
Chris
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Caption: “I told you not to eat the trash around here.”
Some food is just too tempting to pass up.
But you want to be careful where you find it. Maybe it was out the front of a certain famous chocolatier from a particular fictional England. I guess what I’m saying is: maybe it was Willy Wonka’s trash.
I think even I would be tempted.
A little artist’s note: There’s something genuinely fascinating to me about about raccoons. Maybe it’s because of their distinctive look, or their love of trash, or how fun they are to draw. Maybe it’s because they are a famed cartoon trope. Or perhaps the fascination comes simply from the fact that they don’t exist down here in Australia.
Anyway, whatever the reason, this is one of those cartoons that I just really like. It’s my favourite Venn diagram of animals, literature, and food. Well, I don’t know whether it’s my favourite, but I’m definitely a fan.
Visually, this one puts all the emphasis on the raccoons… except that none of it works unless you can see the Wonka gates in the background. So, naturally, I spent a disproportionate amount of time trying to sketch those out. Brick by brick.
Also, would you look at how adorable those raccoons are?
Caption: “The cheese is aged 21 years, as are the crackers.”
Cheese doesn’t need crackers, but crackers need cheese.
But what if the crackers have been around a while? What are their chances of getting the attention they so desperately desire? Good? Bad? Crunchy?
How stale is too stale?
A little artist’s note: This is a nice and simple one from my extensive reject pile. But, more generally, there is something glorious about a cheese plate. So much so that if I find one in front of me, I find myself devouring it with every chance I get. Do I have a preference on cheese? Some sort of golden cheese that rises above all cheeses? Does it have to be authentically aged beyond my years?
All good questions without satisfactory answers.
Visually, this one keeps it simple. I wanted the snacks to come from a butler and not a home host to add some absurd legitimacy to being given 21-year-old crackers. And I wanted it to feel like this was a classy sort of establishment, sort of a gallery opening. Fun fact: there was a time when I was heavily into the art/gallery scene, and I feel certain that any crackers supplied at those launches were loooong past their used-by-date.
I survived the crackers then, I’m not sure I would survive them now.
Thanks for reading The Mid-Week Squiggle.
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