Meet The Team / Allen Salkin

Warning: this video is not suitable for minors or those offended by mentions of narcotics and foods made of animal genitals.

But if you are a fan of Anthony Bourdain or Andrew Zimmern, this one is right up your alley.

Bourdain took the stage at the South Beach Wine & Food Festival the other day and unveiled a new act in which he invited audience members to spin a wheel to determine which topic he would discuss. When a full-bellied fellow staggered up to the stage and spun, the wheel landed on "D**k Joke/Poop Joke."

The topic prompted Bourdain to start talking about Andrew Zimmern, whose show "Bizarre Foods" appears on Travel Channel along with Bourdain's "No Reservations."

"Something you need to know about Andrew and the reason I respect him a lot is we have a lot in common," Bourdain began. Zimmern happened to be standing nearby and, unbidden, hopped up on stage to join Bourdain. This did not stop Bourdain from continuing his rant, noting that he and Zimmern had both gone to Vasser and had both attended the Culinary Institute of America.

Warning: This recipe is dangerous.

Makes you want to try it, right?

When Michael Schwartz wanted to include an appetizer he is famous for in his new book,
"Michael's Genuine Food: Down-to-Earth Cooking for People Who Love to Eat," his advisors forbade it. It turns out that the crispy hominy he serves at his restaurants in Miami and Grand Cayman is too prone to cause injury to trust in the hands of most home cooks. Schwartz, who was in New York last week to cook at the James Beard House, explained that when the little morsels of hulled corn hit hot oil, some of them have retain moisture, which makes them likely to pop like little yellow bits of TNT.

Splattering professional sous-chefs with volcanic oil at Michael's Genuine Food & Drink is one thing -- the hominy remains on the menu. But since the book is being touted on Martha Stewart and sold everywhere, his recipe testers suggested he remove the recipe and spare home cooks the risk.

Get the forbidden recipe after the jump.

Grilling barefoot, turquoise waters lapping at his ankles as he flipped tuna steaks, Eric Ripert tipped his straw hat back and said he wouldn't mind if Top Chef decided to shoot a few episodes down in the Cayman Islands.

The Le Bernardin chef and TV star was serving local tuna with a truffled herb salad at a picnic on a sandbar called Starfish Point last weekend. Working next to him was Jennifer Carroll, the former Top Chef contestant and an employee.

"What do you think, Jenny?" he asked. "Shooting a Top Chef here?"

Jenny was recently told to take her knives and go from Top Chef All-Stars.

"Can I be a judge instead of competing?" she asked.

Ripert just laughed.

Anthony Bourdain was in fine form this weekend in the Cayman Islands, skewering sacred culinary cows with beer-fueled gusto during an hour-long "Chat with Tony." After being introduced by Gail Simmons, of Top Chef, as part of a the third annual Cayman Cookout on this Caribbean island, Bourdain revealed a behind-the-scenes secret about the show on which he also appears as a judge: "Who do you think really spends the most time in hair and makeup?" he asked an audience of 100 barefoot fans gathered on the island's famous Seven Mile Beach. "It's not Padma. It's Tom!"

Why Tom Colicchio, the show's folically challenged head judge [no pun intended] should require so much time in the grooming room makes no sense, Bourdain continued. "What does it take? A quick shine and go!"

Among my many duties as the world's foremost expert on Festivus is monitoring my website www.festivusbook.com. On the site, all of the many fine points of Festivus are debated, and many grievances are aired.

One point of contention that has raged for years is whether there is an official Festivus donut. Of course a larger question is whether there should be an official Festivus anything. Festivus, of course, is an alternative holiday made famous by an episode of Seinfeld and now celebrated at parties across the country. According to the show, its essential elements are an airing of grievances, feats of strength, and instead of a tree or a menorah, an unadorned aluminum pole is the symbolic object placed in your home. In other words, Festivus, often celebrated on December 23, is a cheap, somewhat bitter holiday that requires no gifts be bought, no tinsel hung and no cards sent.

Over the years, those who throw Festivus parties have added many of their own rituals and foods. There was Festivus wine crafted in Oklahoma, St. Festivus Ale brewed in Baltimore, and, in my book, a recipe for Festivus Ham with Junior Mint and Snapple Glaze (delicious, I assure you.)

All of this stuff is homespun. Since Festivus is a holiday with no intrinsic meaning, made famous by a show about nothing, the very idea of anything being "official" about it offends many Festivus friendly folk. And so when on December 22, 2006, someone with the user name Fifi posted the following, it started a storm: "Declaration by reason, that the Krispy Kreme donut be the donut for all Festivus parties!"