Head chefs: Conrad Vernon and Greg Tiernan
Ingredients: Seth Rogen, Kristen Wiig, Michael Cera, Jonah Hill, Edward Norton, Salma Hayek, Nick Kroll, David Krumholtz, Paul Rudd, James Franco, Danny McBride, Craig Robinson, Bill Hader
“We’re the non-perishables, motherfucker.” (Mr Grits, Sausage Party)
Take one hot dog sausage (Rogen) and one hot dog bun (Wiig), destined to be together but forced to sit separate from each other in their packaging prisons on a supermarket shelf.
Pre-heat a premise about a promised land said to lie outside the supermarket’s doors, one in which any foods chosen by ‘the gods’ (humans) will get everything they desire. Keep this premise simmering throughout, regularly adding religious nods to taste.
Add a sub-plot involving two more sausages (Cera and Hill) who find themselves chosen for the promised land but quickly discover that the food paradise they expected is actually a kitchen-based massacre of biblical proportions.
While this subplot cooks, take one bagel (Norton) and a lavash (Krumholtz) and attempt to mix them together, being sure to make the Jew vs Arab connection as obvious as possible.
Place the sausage, bun, bagel and lavash in one plot-shaped bowl, add a lesbian taco shell (Hayek) and bring them to a boil with the introduction of an evil douche (literally) who wants to kill them all.
As these ingredients mix together, regularly throw in supporting cast members including a mystical native American bottle of liquor, a blaxploitation-era box of grits (who naturally hates crackers) and a returned jar of honey mustard who’s seen that there is no promised land and as a result has become a suicidal maniac.
Stir in a variety of food-based jokes and references, with enough visual winks and in-jokes to make your dish pass for a culinary Pixar film. Saveloy Story, if you will.
While the above recipe gives your dish its main flavour, it truly comes into its own when you add some extra spice to give it a real kick.
Add a generous helping of obscene language, peppering the meal with (un)healthy amounts of F-bombs and even C-bombs – unusual for an American dish.
Toss in liberal dollops of other questionable material, from gory death scenes and gay jokes (the deep south accented nuts don’t get along with the fruits) to a ‘cameo’ by a certain disabled scientist.
Surprise your diners by also throwing in an unexpected musical number from an unlikely celebrity guest.
Finally, the key ingredient: as your dish comes to the boil, toss in a scene near the end featuring <INGREDIENTS REDACTED>, a truly surprising sequence of obscenity that will have many members of the audience slack-jawed in disgusted awe.
Finish up with a sprinkling of sequel teasing, then serve to a room of people, ideally complemented with copious helpings of alcohol.
Recipe notes: Although its colourful appearance and visually appealing ingredients may give the impression this dish is suitable for children, under no circumstances should you let them taste it.
This is easily the spiciest dish of its kind, and only diners with the strongest disposition and thickest skin will be able to truly savour its intense flavour.
Those who enjoyed similar dishes from the same chefs – Pineapple Express, This Is The End, The Interview and its ilk –will find Sausage Party similarly appetising, given its comparably strong ‘herbal’ aroma and sense of humour.
Anyone who didn’t find such previous helpings to their taste, however, will most likely turn their noses up at Sausage Party too due to its use of similar ingredients.
In conclusion, those willing to accept a dish that’s completely lacking in taste will find themselves eagerly awaiting the promise of a second helping.
(Thank fuck, that gimmick ran dry three paragraphs in.)
HOW CAN I SEE IT?
Sausage Party is currently showing in cinemas.
SHOW ME THE TRAILER:
One thought on “Sausage Party (2016) review”
It was funny enough to warrant a watch. Nice review.