Ode to Foie Gras.

chef

 

I haven’t lost the tastes that I grew up with as a child;

Sweet and salty, buttered, and then always very mild.

My mother thought of blandness as a useful spice, you see;

It was basic to her way of life, and all her cookery.

 

So when I’m faced with foie gras, and all other haute cuisine,

My platter very likely I will not wholly lick clean.

Goose liver isn’t something that I think of as a food –

It’s more of an enigma over which a man may brood.

 

Why should the Gallic goose be stuffed with corn just so gourmets

Can stuff themselves with foie gras until their eyes begin to glaze?

I’d rather have a Slim Jim with a can of Mountain Dew;

Such grease and carbonation are my steady pot-au-feu.

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slim-jim