Recipe limericks 3
Resurrecting the limerick threads 1 and 2..
I'm a sucker, a lemming, for a limerick
that slides off the tongue all cream and all thick
like a beautiful flan
that slips from the pan
and goes_down the gullet so sweet and slick.
We've learned in the past 'bout our poems:
If we want them remain on this forum
They can verge toward the crude
but must be about food.
So, bark poem with Chowhound decorum.
There are tips in the precursor thread http://chowhound.chow.com/topics/610864
of rhyming and meter, of which some may have dread.
But just pick up your pen,
and a limerick begin
of your tastiest sumptuous spread.
- The original comment has been removed
A limerical twist upon sharing with strangers, in the child's fable labeled "Stone Soup."
When three hungry soldiers entered the town
that was boarded for safety and fully shut down
their plea and appeal
was met with no meal.
Townfolk feared for their lives, with good reason.
The battle had raged for days infinitum
these three men were just the young yoemen.
Their bellies craved food
be it simple or crude.
But how coax it from folk who were hoarding?
They fired the town's cauldron and stirred at that pot
Showing peace, showing hunger, malevolent not.
The townfolk emerged
with a similar urge
wondering just what those soldiers had got.
"Stone Soup for all!" was the clarion call
from soldiers whose hunger had granted them gall.
"Bring cabbage, rutabagas,
carrots, onions, potatoes
We'll add to the pot for a great feast for all!"
Those items, and more, did surely appear
as the townfolk did slowly let go of their fear
and brought their abundance
for the good simple sustenance
of Stone Soup for all in Town Square.
This parable learned on my grandmama's knees
as I sat on her lap and she read books to me
bespeaks of a truth
so natural in youth.
It showed sharing could bring simple peace.
When I started this thread a few weeks ago
I'd been spending good time with a good friend of mine
who was in the V.A. in a hospital bed.
So my mind was on veterans and the things they had given us
and the timeless sweet beauty of "Stone Soup" hit my head.
But it seems that the story that I had to tell
seemed a bit "Debbie Downer" like on SNL.
Limericks should be just fun as hell.
So let us regroup
and give fun to "Stone Soup"
and your metrical recipes that will follow.
There's a cadence can flow from deft cooking hand
and be shared to show others how to make it.
Since my meter has strayed from true limerick
let's open the breadth of this thread full systemic
and welcome all recipes metrically plyed.
Just wipe hands, and chime 'em,
with a wee bit of rhyme 'em,
If it's good Chow, we're really a forgiving crowd.
Hwaet! Praise for the prowess cuisine
For KitchenAid mixers, that baguettes bred
in steamy ovens, the perfect french one!
Where dwell the eaters of lutefisk
and many a mug of akavit quaffed
A-viking they went, in search of the one.
A-viking here, a-viking there,
they went a-viking everywhere
but never sign of the perfect one.
The perfect one, with crust so fine
A crackling crust! Food of Odin!
Loki-curst, no perfect baguette to grace
the dragon ships that homeward bound
Back to the icy dark Norwegian winter.
Hearty men! Strong men! No perfect one
but perked they up at thoughts of lutefisk
of akavittar, of torsketunger.
Sweet salted moose! And Smalahove!
and best of all, the hakarl of Iceland fame
Soon rollicking, awash with mjød
enbravened they thus, they homeward sped.
Hwaet! Thus were the men of olden days
Manly men of iron constitution
Bravely their food they faced
more or less!
Simple limerick, or something like it:
My heart was a’flutter
In my kitchen I puttered
Concocting my wheat toast and my jam
As I reached for a slicer
For the butter to spread ‘er
I spied me leftover fine ham
Mm, I sputtered
ham's got to be better
better than planned toast and jam
I wooped and I hollered
I snickered and swallowed
Give over the toast and the jam
I grabbed up me slicer
For the joint to cut her
But butter was slicker than ham
Like lightening I twisted,
But narrowly missed
The butter just oozing it's flam
The knife I did toss
What a terrible loss
There’ll be no more lovely pink ham
The dish it did clatter
The butter it splattered
And down it all went with a bam
O jeez, so much clutter
I gulped and I spluttered
And then I went back to my ham
The floor was awash
in a buttery gloss
just ripe for the splat of my can
I strained but I teetered
And my butt I near shattered
All due to greed for sweet ham
Ah well, I'm a nutter
a nutter, I tell ya!
Ham being better than Spam
As I slipped on the butter
I took heed of the matter
And vowed never again damn the jam