From the J'Accuse...! department, here's a restaurant review of Guy Fieri's American Kitchen & Bar, in the form of an open letter that's as scathing as it is juicy and fun to read (assuming you aren't Guy Fieri). There's all sorts of choice bits in it that would be eminently quoteworthy, but this one from near the end is the best by far:
Is the entire restaurant a very expensive piece of conceptual art? Is the shapeless, structureless baked alaska that droops and slumps and collapses while you eat it, or don’t eat it, supposed to be a representation in sugar and eggs of the experience of going insane?
The entire review's very much worth reading; it's utterly devastating, but its hurtfulness is still eclipsed by the sheer delectability of its righteous indignation. One can't help but picture the reviewer as a distinguished elderly gentleman, quite possibly of British descent, with a stiff upper lip who takes everything in unflappable stride — until the last straw finally breaks the camel's back, and he gets shirty.