Best Restaurant Review Ever?

Imagine Jeremy Clarkson writing a restaurant review.

This had me in stitches. It’s a scathing 1/5 star review of the Alain Ducasse at the Dorchester in London, from the Times:

The menu’s novelty is that it’s written in English, then translated into French, presumably to be culturally droll (culturellement drôle). The food is effortful French bijou objects (objets bijoux), made of ingredients whose foremost quality is their expense and rarity. They are then tortured into little piles that resemble deconstructed Fabergé eggs with worrying froth. The flavours are pastel-pale, and reach your palate with an aristocratic ennui (ennui), each mouthful expiring on your tongue like an exhausted haemophiliac. It’s clever and fiddly, as tepid as a royal handshake and as utterly forgettable as dabs of diplomatic small talk. There are the usual interruptions of small samples of things you haven’t ordered, or even considered, and couldn’t invent. The waiters have accents so thickly frogged that they sound comic and indecipherable, but they do offer you the one intense pleasure of the place when they ask: “What would you like?” You can look at your watch and say half past one, and see how they like it.