On the same pass I also ordered ‘beef tacos’ ($13.50) which turned out to be a fried tortilla bowl heaped with romaine lettuce, grated yellow cheese, and plain ground beef that was so devoid of flavor, it rendered an insult to Mexicans every bit as profound as Trump’s previous pronouncements. I don’t know what could have saved limp, dispiriting yam dumplings, but it definitely wasn’t a lukewarm matsutake mushroom bouillon as murky and appealing as bong water. Chicken Caesar pizza… looks like what you'd expect if a cook emptied a bottle of parmesan dressing onto a pallid spa cracker, applied a squeeze bottle swirl of romaine pesto, and let the musky crumbs from a pre-shift meal of KFC waft down over that pizza. It is profoundly awful. There are several words I can drum up to describe the treatment I received at Les Enfants Terribles PVM, but let me limit it one: shoddy. No, wait, remembering the manager patting our shoulders time and again, I would add: patronizing. Renowned butcher Pat LaFrieda once dared me to eat an eyeball that he himself popped out of the skull of a roasted pig. That eyeball tasted better than the Trump Grill’s (Grille’s) Gold Label Burger, a Pat LaFrieda–branded short-rib burger blend molded into a sad little meat thing.