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Fresh Cheese And Cream By Robert Herrick
May 10th, 2012 | by Editor
Would ye have fresh Cheese and Cream? Julia's Breast can give you them: and if more: each Nipple cries, To your cream, here's Strawberries.
Read This >>A Reverie About Oysters By William Cox
May 6th, 2012 | by EditorMan has been styled a speaking animal, a laughing animal, a bargaining animal, and a drunken animal, in contradistinction to all other animals, who neither speak, nor laugh, nor bargain, nor get drunk; but a cooking animal seems after all to be his most characteristic and distinguishing appellation. In the important art of cooking victuals he shines pre-eminent; here he taxes all his faculties, racks his invention, and gives unbounded range to his imagination. Nature has given to every other animal a peculiar taste, and furnished three or four kinds of food ...
Read This >>Polly Making Tea By Florence S. Browne
April 22nd, 2012 | by EditorThe china gleams in blue and white, The twilight hour is swift approaching; Entranced I note with shy delight, No other callers are approaching. A cup she designates as mine, With motion of her dainty finger. the kettle boils — oh! drink divine, In mem'ry shall thy fragrance linger. Her kerchief's made in style of yore, Some fairy surely put the hem on. Held sugar such a charm before? Was e'er such magic in a lemon? She turns away with manner coy, The firelight shows her beauty clearer; Oh, why is teasing such a joy! I wish she'd come a little nearer. Wi sit and sip — ...
Read This >>Domestic Economy By Punch Magazine
April 16th, 2012 | by EditorSaid Stiggins to his wife one day, "We've nothing left to eat; if things go on this queer way, We shan't make both ends meet." The dame replied, in words discreet, "We're not so badly fed, If we can make but one end meat, And make the other bread."
Read This >>The Table By Marc-antoine Madeleine Désaugiers
January 28th, 2012 | by Editor
An epicure, I mean to sing The table, as a subject fitting; 'T is certainly a useful thing, And friendship's ties is ever knitting. Censure its weapons may unsheathe, To stop my song it is unable; So, fearless of the critic's teeth, I here discourse upon the table. A tribute must be due, of course, To such an universal mother. Of life the table is the source; Indeed, my friend, I know no other. The pillow, where you lay your head, Is soft, but raises visions sable: The dying wretch is on his bed, The jolly dog is at ...
Read This >>A Cup Of Tea By Helen Gray Cone
January 27th, 2012 | by EditorNow Grietje from her window sees the leafless poplars lean Against a windy sunset sky with streaks of golden green; The still canal is touched with light from that wild, wintry sky, And, dark and gaunt, the windmill flings its bony arms on high. "It's growing late; it's growing cold; I'm all alone," says she; "I'll put the little kettle on, to make a cup of tea!" Mild radiance from the porcelain stove reflects on shining tiles; The kettle beams, so red and bright that Grietje thinks it smiles; The kettle sings--so soft and low it seems as in a ...
Read This >>Scotch Whiskey By Francis Saltus Saltus
January 21st, 2012 | by Editor
How rare is thy rich, passion-giving worth. When weary of full many a Scottish mile, One rests, and stirs thee with a knowing smile In some dim inn of Edinburgh or Perth. Gods must have drunk thee at their wondrous birth, For in thee there is laughter and no guile, And they, enraptured, from some heavenly aisle, Perchance have given thee to this sorrowing earth. For when thou art near, the devil has the pain, No bitter frown is known, no caustic sneer, The world on golden axles moves and turns. And then ring out again, and yet again, In ...
Read This >>The Banana Peel By Anonymous
January 1st, 2012 | by EditorLike the bar of the beaten gold I gleam in the summer sun; I am little, I know, but I think I can throw A man that will weigh a ton. I send out no challenges bold, I blow me no vaunting horn, But foolish is he who treadeth on me; He'll wish he had ne'er been born. Like the flower of the field, vain man Goeth forth at the break of day; But when he shall feel my grip on his heal, Like the stubble he fadeth away; For I lift him high up in the air, With his heels where his head ought ...
Read This >>When The Sirup’s On The Flapjack By Bert Leston Taylor
November 28th, 2011 | by EditorWhen the sirup's on the flapjack and the coffee's in the pot; When the fly is in the butter—where he'd rather be than not; When the cloth is on the table, and the plates are on the cloth; When the salt is in the shaker and the chicken's in the broth; When the cream is in the pitcher and the pitcher's on the tray, And the tray is on the sideboard when it isn't on the way; When the rind is on the bacon and likewise upon the cheese, Then I somehow feel inspired to do a string of rimes ...
Read This >>The Gourmet’s Love Song By P. G. Wodehouse
November 25th, 2011 | by EditorHOW strange is Love: I am not one Who Cupid's power belittles, For Cupid 'tis who makes me shun My customary victuals. Of, Effie, since that painful scene That left me broken-hearted, My appetite, erstwhile so keen, Has utterly departed. My form, my friends observe with pain, Is growing daily thinner. Love only occupies the brain That once could think of dinner. Around me myriad waiters flit, With meat and drink to ply men; Alone, disconsolate, I sit, And feed on thoughts of Hymen. The kindly waiters hear my groan, They strive to charm with curry; They tempt me with a devilled bone -- I beg them not to worry. Soup, whitebait, ...
Read This >>For Viola: De Gustibus By William Carlos Williams
November 23rd, 2011 | by EditorBeloved you are Caviar of Caviar Of all I love you best O my Japanese bird nest No herring from Norway Can touch you for flavor. Nay Pimento itself is flat as an empty shelf When compared to your piquancy O quince of my despondency.
Read This >>Wine Poem: Cork Pops By Walter Parke
September 11th, 2011 | by EditorThere was an old waiter at Wapping, Drew corks for a week without stopping; Cried he, "It's too bad!" The practice I've had! Yet cannot prevent them from popping!"
Read This >>Fruit Poem: A Lover By Witter Bynner
September 10th, 2011 | by EditorThe plums and cherries are blossoming, My heart too is unsheathing from winter — And it has all happened in one day.
Read This >>Fruit Poem: Peaches By Hattie Howard
September 7th, 2011 | by EditorPeaches, peaches! everywhere See the tempting baskets stand! Luscious fruit from Delaware, Ruddy cheeks from Maryland. Orchards of the sunny South, In surprising plentitude, Furnish freely every mouth Appetizing, dainty food. Peaches in the market stalls, Peaches vended on the street By the rogue who seldom hauls Peaches good enough to eat. Dealers a bonanza reap From the blushing favorites, While their cry of "Peaches cheap!" Gathers in the silver bits. What delicious nectar pure Velvet cuticles enclose! Pampered taste of epicure No more toothsome flavor knows. There are peaches tough as vice — Acrid as a sharp retort! Dear were they at half their ...
Read This >>Corpulent Carp By Edward Lear
September 4th, 2011 | by Editor
There was once a corpulent carp Who wanted to play on a harp; But to his chagrin so short was his fin, He couldn't reach up to C sharp.
Read This >>Cooking Poem: Ode To Dr. Kitchener By Thomas Hood
August 28th, 2011 | by Editor
Ye Muses nine inspire And stir up my poetic fire; Teach my burning soul to speak With a bubble and a squeak! Of Dr. Kitchener I fain would sing, Till pots, and pans, and mighty kettles ring. O culinary sage! (I do not mean the herb in use, That always goes along with goose) How have I feasted on thy page: "When like a lobster boil'd the morn From black to red began to turn," Till midnight, when I went to bed, And clapt my tewah-diddle1 on my head. Who is there cannot tell, Thou leadest a life of living ...
Read This >>Food Nursery Rhyme: A Was An Apple Pie By Mother Goose
August 26th, 2011 | by EditorA was an apple-pie; B bit it; C cut it: D dealt it; E eat it; F fought for it; G got it; H had it; J joined it; K kept it; L longed for it; M mourned for it; N nodded at it; O opened it; P peeped in it; Q quartered it; R ran for it; S stole it; T took it; V viewed it; W wanted it; X, Y, Z, and Ampersand (&) All wished for a piece in hand.
Read This >>Champagne Poem: Wild Fire Wine Of France By Anonymous
August 26th, 2011 | by EditorOh, the wild-fire wine of France, Quick with fantasies florescent, Rapturously effervescent, How its atoms leap and dance! Floric fount of love and laughter, Where its emanations rise, All the difficulty dies, From now and then hereafter. Through the happy gold-n haze Time's gray cheek if bright with dimples, And his laugh more lightly wimples Than the sea's on summer days. Tongue and throat it makes to tingle, Beats the blood from heart to vein, And ascending to the brain, Bids the spirit ...
Read This >>Nursery Rhyme: Hot Buns By Anonymous
August 24th, 2011 | by EditorHot cross buns! hot cross buns! One a penny, two a penny, Hot cross buns! If you have no daughters Give them to your sons; One a penny, two a penny Hot cross buns.
Read This >>Nursery Rhyme: Pancake By Christina Georgina Rossetti
August 24th, 2011 | by Editor
Mix a pancake, Stir a pancake, Pop it in the pan; Fry the pancake, Toss the pancake, — Catch it if you can.
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