FOOD POETRY Untitled I surely never hope to view A steak as luscious as a stew. The latter is the tasty goal Of elements in perfect whole, A mad assemblage of legumes Exuding warm ambrosial fumes, Each seasoning of proper length, Proving in Union there's strength. A steak is grander, it is true, Yet needs no special skill to brew. It is an art a stew to make, But anyone can broil a steak.
Unknown A Drinking Song Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That's all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die. I lift the glass to my mouth, I look at, and I sigh.
William Butler Yeats On A Slope Of Orchard There on a slope of orchard, Francis laid A damask napkin wrought with horse and hound, brought out a dusky loaf that smelt of home, And cut down, a pasty costly made, Where quail and pigeon, lark and leveret, lay Like fossils of the rock, with golden yolks Imbedded and in jellied. Alfred, Lord Tennyson A Recipe for a Salad To make this condiment, your poet begs The pounded yellow of two hard-boiled eggs; Two boiled potatoes, passed through kitchen sieve, Smoothness and softness to the salad give. Let onion atoms lurk within the bowl, And, half suspected, animate the whole. Of mordant mustard add a single spoon, Distrust the condiment that bites so soon; But deem it not, thou man of herbs, a fault, To add a double quantity of salt.
Four times the spoon with oil from Lucca brown, And twice with vinegar procured from town; And, lastly, o'er the flavored compound toss A magic soupcion of anchovy sauce. O, green and glorious! O herbaceous treat! 'T would tempt the dying anchorite to eat: Back to the world he'd turn his fleeting soul, And plunge his fingers in the salad bowl! Serenely full, the epicure would say, "Fate cannot harm me, I have dined to-day." Sydney Smith The Song Of Right And Wrong Feast on wine or fast on water, And your honor shall stand sure If an angel out of heaven Brings you something else to drink, Thank him for his kind attentions, Go and pour it down the sink. G.K. Chesterton top from Don Juan But man is a carnivorous production And must have meals - at least once a day; He cannot live, like woodcocks, upon suction, But, like the shark and tiger, must have prey. Lord Byron Roast Beef of old England When mighty roast beef was the Englishman's food It ennobled our hearts and enriched our blood-- Our soldiers were brave and our courtiers were good. Oh! the roast beef of England. And Old England's roast beef. Henry Fielding Rice Pudding What is the matter with Mary Jane? She's perfectly well and she hasn't a pain, And it's lovely rice pudding for dinner again, What is the matter with Mary Jane. A.A. Milne from a translation of Martial's "Xenia 18" This is every cook's opinion - No savory dish without an onion, But lest your kissing should be spoiled Your onions must be fully boiled. Jonathan Swift On China Blue On china blue my lobster red Precedes my cutlet brown, With which my salad green is sped By yellow Chablis down. Lord, if good living be no sin, But innocent delight, O polarize these hues within To one eupeptic white.
Sir Stephen Gaselee
