Food by VICE

This Week in Food Porn: Cauliflower Cheese, Crabapples, and Toast

The week in food porn is here. The greatest images of edible beauty to be uploaded to the internet in the last seven days—no scrolling required.

by Nell Frizzell
Nov 21 2015, 11:00am

Photo via Flickr user kaythaney

If, like me, you recently broke your phone screen by bending over to pick up a packet of Doritos in a WH Smiths in a windblown train station somewhere in the north of England, you'll have no doubt spent the intervening days howling over old polaroids of some chips and a digital photo your mum took last week of her new cress.

But fear not: the week in food porn is here. The greatest images of edible beauty to be uploaded to the internet in the last seven days—no scrolling required.

You're very, very welcome.

Yes, at first glance, I thought this was spotted dick smothered in custard too. Then I briefly wondered if it was a brain covered in tahini. But, glory be, it's better than any pudding, any organ—it's that great white flower we call a cheese-delivery-service.

I know I'm meant to be looking at the breakfast here but I just can't stop looking at that Wetherspoons carpet. No wonder one of those croissants is trying to peer over the edge of its basket to get a better look.

This is the kind of cutesy approach to food that makes me want to fart in my hand and throw it in someone's sandwich. But toast is toast is toast, even if someone spreads yours with a vaguely faecal bear.

If ever there were an image that captured some morsel of what it is to be human—of the universality of this fleshy mortal existence—it is an old woman with a plastic bucket, slicing fruit to stock up for the coming cold.

Did you know that as an apple tree ages—as its vitality withers and its sap weakens—its apples will naturally and organically return to crabapples? They literally wane unto their apple ancestors, like an old man returning to the nappy, the soft puddings, and the toothless mewls. Second childishness and mere oblivion is coming to us all so let us eat, drink, and be merry today.

Lie me across a board and slice me open until I crumble and fall away, dear heart. For now is the season of cheese and knives and salty things.

I like to eat in lines. Lines and lines and lines. With bacon and mussels, alive, alive, oh.

Sometimes bread looks like a potted flower and sometimes it looks like a Biba print and other times again it looks like an art deco sun covered in lawn trimmings. But it will always be bread. Thank god.

Mate, that's a salty plum. Don't even tell me it's an olive. It's a plum. You've lost it. Mate, you're jabbering. It's a plum. Sorry. Sorry. Mate. Sorry. But that's a plum. I know you think it's an olive, mate, but seriously, that's a plum. It's a plum. Your mum's a plum.

Now you see them, now you don't ! #e5croissant #stoneground A photo posted by @e5bakehouse on

When I am finally entered into the hallowed corridors of the National Portrait Gallery, I want my picture to simply be a Rorschach blot of long-since-eaten butter dripping from a sheet of greaseproof paper. Thanks.