And a side of freedom fries.

Right. Like we'd ever open up anything remotely resembling diplomatic contact with Iranistan. That would be weak-kneed, Chambermaid appeasement. Mmmm, the naughty diaries of hypocritical society.

I meant Chamberlain.

Shut up.

Anyway, next thing you know, you'll be telling me those goddamn frogs are getting hip to American traditions.

Even if you couldn't be on the Champs-Élysées for Bastille Day on Monday to watch seven parachutists float down in front of President Nicolas Sarkozy, you can still celebrate the greatness of France with a new local tradition.

Eat a hamburger.

This is a bloody outrage, that's what this is! First you steal our beef stew and call it boeuf bourguignon -- made with wine instead of beer? How prétentieux! -- and now this. But go on and play your little game, you cheese-eating surrender monkeys.

"It has the taste of the forbidden, the illicit - the subversive, even," said Hélène Samuel, a restaurant consultant in Paris. "Eating with your hands, it's pure regression. Naturally, everyone wants it."

Subversive? Mademoiselle, you don't know the first thing about subversive.
















Take that!























And that!

















And that!

Coups! Oil! Hippies! Negroes! Commies! Murder! Hulk smash!

















Oh no! Must we resort to cheap and tawdry fisticuffs to get things done nowadays?























Whew! Much better. So, baby, your telephone, or mine?

"I think it's shocking, but at the same time the French are realizing that a burger is real food, it's good," said Boulud.

As us uncultured hand-eaters on the other side of the Atlantic say, duh.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to drag my knuckles over to my Senior Leader Intransit Pallet and chow down on this delicious French delicacy.

Hmm, some soothing music would make the perfect apéritif. Oh, friar?















Now that's what I call Il Convivio!