Hooray, you’re on the list. Take this buzzer, stand across the street in that puddle, and wait for a little shock. The estimated wait time is six hours. And don’t be surprised if we’re not here when your table is called. We could be anywhere at any time. However, we’re usually near the morgue.
What’s our name? It depends. Our food truck is called Eat Pray Cramp Vomit. Our counter at the food hall is called Le Coli. Our online delivery service is called Dysentery. Our insufferable pop-up? It’s difficult to pronounce. It’s all consonants and diacritical marks. Along with some gagging and sputtering.
No, no, we don’t kill our patrons. Not intentionally. Although we have had some losses. Who hasn’t? Unlike other food collectives, we’ve learned to embrace our mortality rate. It’s part of our ambience. Our joie de vivre! Chef Claire says that a high propensity for death elevates the palate. Until it doesn’t.



