Spaghetti alla carbonara is a delicate blend of egg, cheese, smoked pork and pepper; the beauty of the recipe is that it can be made with dozens of variations, all tasting equally good. Don’t have romano cheese? Parmesan will do nicely. Can’t find pancetta? Thick cut bacon works, and you can always throw in some Italian sausage for good measure. That said, the recipe would be an absolute disaster if you tried to use American cheese (or worse, Velveeta) and Spam. It would be visually repulsive, and would probably taste like three day old vomit.
In a lot of ways, a fourth generation Camaro is like spaghetti alla carbonara; you can road race them, drag race them or turn them into quasi-comfortable grand touring cars. There are plenty of tasteful aftermarket body kits, and probably a few dozen wheel choices. Even on a modest budget, it’s easy to personalize a 1993 to 2002 Camaro to suite your own sense of style.
Maybe that’s why I’m so repulsed by the Rev Angel, dug up from the litter box that is eBay Motors by Jalopnik. The Rev Angel is hideous from any angle, kind of like carbonara made with Cheez-Whiz and Slim Jims. The metalwork is crude (were those wheel arches cut with a blindfold on?) and there isn’t a clean angle on the entire car. It looks like a five year old’s interpretation of what a supercar should look like, only the kid’s version would have flame-throwers, rockets and laser-beam headlights. This thing doesn’t even have working air conditioning.
I’ve driven some abominable cars in my time, and I’d admit to having low standards when I need transportation. Still, if my options were to drive the Rev Angel from New York to California or have three root canals done, without anesthesia, while listening to the best of Celine Dion, I’d opt for the dental work. As carbonara goes, the Rev Angel is just inedible.