The other not so great but kind of intriguing thing Peter brought back was this flyer for the ultimate kroket.
Now, if you know anything about Dutch food, especially the kind of Dutch food made for drunk people, you know that “ultimate kroket” is kind of a paradox.
A kroket is a little deep-fried wad of…stuff. Misc. goo. I’m not sure what it is, or what it once was. They’re in the category of borrelhapjes, literally the little bites you have with your glass of gin, so really, the flavor isn’t too important–you’re just out to protect your liver. A few years ago, I trailed at the one Dutch restaurant in NYC (now closed), and the poor non-Dutch chef who’d just taken over reserved a special expression of horror for the krokets he was obliged to make. He didn’t really know what was in the goo, either.
Anyway, done right, they’re deep-fried so they’re, like all fine food, crispy on the outside and soft in the middle. In fact, the middle is usually like liquid napalm, and if you’re drunk and eat one without letting it cool, you will suffer terrible burns all over your mouth, and thus feel even more regret for your boozing than if you just had the normal pain of a hangover. If you’re sober and eat one…well, you wouldn’t eat one if you’re sober.
So, what I’m getting at is that the kroket is really not something anyone would think to improve on, because you only think about krokets if you’ve been drinking (and if you wear a tracksuit and gold chains and come from Alkmaar), and then you think they’re perfectly good.
But someone had a vision. Some guy named Thorwald Voss. He happens to have been the original genius behind Supper Club, back when Supper Club was really crazy and cool and not an international chain of sort-of-crazy-and-cool clubs (and, I assume, the inspiration for Monkeytown in Williamsburg).
Now the guy is making krokets. (Which makes me wonder just what happened there behind the scenes at Supper Club…that’s a long way to fall.)
But they’re not just any kroket. They’re “Thor’s Love Croquet [sic...in fact, sic galore from here on out]“:
Every bite a different taste: bechamel, cream cheese, onion, marmalade, nutmeg, hot chili sauce, japanees ginger, artisjok, capers, japanees bread crumbs, sunflower oil, frying pan, lots of love.
In short, Thor has taken the kroket-for-drunks and made it into the kroket-for-stoners. As Peter says, it’s like the Everlasting Gobstopper of krokets: each bite is another flavor, just as the flyer promises.
As for the other promise on the flyer, the cryptic “Stop thinkin,” I’m not sure what to make of that. The kroket seems to be thinking it. But then it’s thinking. So it hasn’t stopped. Dude. You could think about that for hours.
And there’s more thought-provoking material on the back of the flyer:
There have been made 100,000 of these croquets by hand. The recepie changes everytime. A piece of art is never finished. The thought that everything is a thought, is a thought that can be thoughtless thought about. This has been approved by scientists. Let’s try and get conscious of are unconsciousnees.”
Whoa. Are those the same “scientists” that made the Future Protein vegetarian snacks from the previous posts? And is he suggesting these krokets also have a layer of LSD in them? This really, really makes me wonder what happened at Supper Club.
THORWALD VOSS: Hey, everybody, if we all take our shoes off and eat on beds, and people feed us hash brownies, and someone swings on a trapeze, then we’ll get conscious of are unconsciousnees, yes? Wait, maybe hash krokets would be cooler…
TV’S BUSINESS PARTNERS, AKA WANNABE CORPORATE STICKS-IN-THE-MUD: Uh, yeah, but the customers might also be unconscious of the check. Have fun with your krokets, Thor.
But who’s got the last laugh? Supper Club is now a sort-of cool place that’s losing edginess credibility at the same rate it’s expanding around the globe, but Thor is selling his mind-expanding krokets at summer festivals in Amsterdam for 5 EUROS APIECE. This is a 500% markup on your standard kroket. And people are buying them, and talking about them. Rod said to Peter, “Dude, there’s the 5-euro kroket guy. You HAVE to try one of them.” (I paraphrase.) His reputation as the kroket/croquet master, nay, kroket guru precedes him.
Rock your krokets, Thor. One day soon I too will be in Amsterdam, and I will be eating your kroket and thinking that everything is a thought. Or not thinking. Or something. Dude.