Notion Of "Haute Stoner Cuisine" Brings Back Unappetizing Memories

Notion Of “Haute Stoner Cuisine” Brings Back Unappetizing Memories

“The Rusty Knot is the most stoner of all my places. It’s kind of like the basement we all had when we grew up where we first smoked pot.”
–Manhattan restaurateur Ken Friedman describes his black-light-poster decorated west side spot in a way that does not make me want to eat there. I remember that basement. The pot was kept balled up in an old sock behind a radiator. There was a mother cat with a litter of new kittens in a box in the corner. And the featured entree was cold Beefaroni scooped straight out the can with green plastic army men figures. (Oh, hey: internet research shows that, first of all, “Beefaroni” is spelled without hyphens, but also that Chef Boyardee now has a product line called “Forkables.” This is a hilarious word in its own right. But it makes me wonder whether marketing execs are missing an opportunity in not creating an “army-menables” version.)