Food by VICE

This Week in Food Porn: Christmas Special

Where better to look for festive inspiration, delectation, and mastication than right here? The best of the week’s food photography uploaded to Instagram.

by Nell Frizzell
Dec 18 2016, 10:00pm

Photo via Flickr user Julie

Well, ding my dong and rattle my reindeer: yuletide is on our horizon once more.

The time of loving and giving, eating and sweating, screaming and seething, stumbling and accidentally punching your uncle Derek in the kidney with the corner of a large cardboard box is upon us.

Of course, for most of us, the absolute highlight of this festival of lights is the food and so, where better to look for some inspiration, delectation, and mastication than right here: the best of the week's food photography uploaded to Instagram?

Cheers!

Growing up, Christmas breakfast in my house largely consisted of two glasses of extra dry sherry and half a lungful of passive smoking as someone moaned gently in the hallway and I tried to climb into a hole. Still, this is cute isn't it?

Oh, nice to see dinosaur monsters are still strutting about the planet with their genitals draped across their face like there's nothing better to do with their time.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas ❄️

A photo posted by Yan (@msyan_) on

Perhaps it's because my father is an actual builder—you know, those dusty-haired, nail-chewing people who made your house for you—but there's just something about an icing-welded biscuit that strikes me as structurally unsound. And God only knows where you put the damp-proof course.

Oh lovely, this year Mum's decided to decorate the Christmas dinner table with a giant pink concertina vagina. Thanks ma.

What you're looking at here, ladies and gentleman, is exactly what happens when a 24-year-old man, who decided to pick up some extra shifts at the depot over Christmas to save up for a new wakeboard, suddenly realises at 3.17 PM on Christmas Eve that he misses his mammy and that there's nothing in the house apart from a box of high-fibre cereal and some mustard. He kickflips down to the food court, slaps open his mountaineering rucksack, thwacks it down on the counter and drawls, "Fill 'em up" to the man in a paper hat and mesh beard net at the takeaway stand. Poor sod.

This year, Generation Snowflake will be simultaneously complaining that their mothers didn't wrap their presents with recycled tissue paper, while also demanding a brand new mobile phone, made under unutterably poor working conditions, because the one they were given six months ago "is just a bit big for my fingers." We're monsters, is what I'm saying.

This is what almost all my snowballs looked like as a child thanks to my grandparents' more-than-faintly incontinent collection of ageing Labradors and Alsatians.

Mate, your vegan breakfast is sporting a serious set of tads. Nadgers. Swinger. Pork balls. Low hangers. Bollocks. It's jingling a set of balls. A big old pair of testicicles.

#mincepies a go go #ahhtoots #bake #bristol

A photo posted by tamisapan (@tamisapan) on

Do we absolutely have to serve up our mince pies sprinkled with cocaine nowadays? Or can I have my au naturel? Because, God knows, I spend enough of my time telling people what I ate for lunch in excruciating and enthusiastic detail, without the addition of stimulants.

Can't wait to roast these little guys!! #brusselsprouts #govegan

A photo posted by Toronto's Best Vegan Foods (@veganonearth) on

Nice to see that Auntie Jean finally got round to spending that Coco De Mer token we gave her last year. Merry Christmas, Jean. I hope you spend it flat on your back like last year.