Wednesday, April 20, 2016
What’s Primary
The candidates
toss some scabrous
taunts!
Walk them back,
genially, next
time.
The essence re-
mains.
Like the chef
fetch-
ing ingredients
from trash to
shape
a Surprise!
Labels: chef, Culinary Surprise, political rhetoric, political taunting, politics, Surprise
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Action Figure
Cindy, In Short
“Well I STILL don't understand!”
They pity her then, this intellectual family she’s
somehow a part of.
There frequently follow wisecracks as to why Cindy
lost her husband.
Actually a man who then married a widow with five
potential delinquents. She phones him weekly and
it’s forever Bedlam.
She has revenge fantasies involving those around the
dinner table, never him.
The best: they're buried in a deep mine.
Her only friend proves Mrs Finnegan. She had hired her
as housekeeper, though the family can't remotely fathom
why Cindy doesn’t handle that too, as well as chef.
No complaints, ever, as to the food. Being graduate of
The Culinary Institute.
She always has Mrs Finnegan at Friday twilight for a
special desert and iced white wine.
This time they hear a washing rain outside, very nearly
drowning the voices from the mine for Cindy.
Who flaunts the Reisling.
Dr Loosen Kabinett Blue Slate 2014! you utter nincompoops!
Perhaps Mrs Finnegan heard the voices from the mine also.
She definitely heard something as they sipped. Something part
of the severe rain, or not.
Labels: chef, cooking, cuisine, Dr Loosen, Family, intellectual, revenge, revenge fantasy, Riesling, wine
Sunday, April 03, 2011
Will's Scratch
stayed open until fishing boats came in.
Everything cooked from scratch.
But now: small freezer.
“I lost my women to Walmart. They did all the slicing,
cutting, mincing, filleting the fish, shucking oysters,
and what have you.”
“You pay less than them. That's pretty lame.”
“Well, they left in tears, so maybe something else was here.”
“You know, Will, everything still tastes great. How come?”
He waves one arm along his shelf of spices.
Then taps his head.
Sears my thick steak, lost in the vapor.
stayed open until fishing boats came in.
Everything cooked from scratch.
But now: small freezer.
“I lost my women to Walmart. They did all the slicing,
cutting, mincing, filleting the fish, shucking oysters,
and what have you.”
“You pay less than them. That's pretty lame.”
“Well, they left in tears, so maybe something else was here.”
“You know, Will, everything still tastes great. How come?”
He waves one arm along his shelf of spices.
Then taps his head.
Sears my thick steak, lost in the vapor.
Labels: chef, cooking from scratch, restaurant, Walmart
