Flippin patties, fresh and hot,
SpongeBob’s grill is the best spot.
The secret formula, a secret so tight,
Makes the Krabby Patty just right!
Flippin’ fast with perfect skill,
Each patty cooked with extra thrill.
He loves his job, he’s full of cheer,
But he’s messy, and sometimes weird.
With cheese and buns, he’s set to go,
Serving up patties with a big hello!
Bikini Bottom knows his name,
SpongeBob’s patties bring him fame!
With every flip and every bite,
They bring us joy from day to night!
He was a terrific and skilled Italian chef.
Forty years ago, he took his final breath.
On June the 21st of 1985, Ettore Boiardi passed away.
He was born in Borgonovo Val Tidone, Italy and moved to the USA.
At the age of 16, he arrived at Ellis Island on a French ship.
Now millions are eating his food because he took that trip.
He turned out to be a businessman who was shrewd.
People ate at his restaurant and they loved his food.
It was natural causes that caused Boiardi's death.
Millions are thankful because of that Italian chef.
[Dedicated to Ettore Boiardi (1897-1985) who died on June 21, 1985]
A hearty bowl of broth
overflows its rim
Proudly served by a mustachioed chef
whose heart swells up in him
to see his patrons savor its taste
lean back with dreamy smiles
For he pours himself into his soups
panache his trademark style
There was a woman named Beth
Who said she was a accomplished Chef
But she burned the food
It looked like glue
And the dog refused to eat what’s left
Six ice cream bananas
Skin removed and center hollowed out
In a bowl mix 1 cup of rolled oats
1/2 teaspoon of honey
*4 table spoons of Brown sugar
2 tablespoon of rum
1/2 cups. Of mashed banana
1/4 cup of shredded coconut
1 tablespoon of vanilla
1/2 cups of cream cheese
1 egg yolk
2 cups of banana
Pipe into hollowed center
Wrap banana with a filling dough
To cover end to end
Top with egg white and sugar
Sprinkle toasted pistachio nuts on top
Bake until golden. Brown
Serve with vanilla ice cream and
Caremel topping and whipped cream
Strawberries and Carmel!
I saw a child
He seemed sober and mild.
An assortment of vegetables was before him.
The look of the cat near him seemed grim.
The child was not cooking.
Nor the green vegetables he was eating.
Was this a pose for a photo?
Was it just a fun motto?
Whatever it might be, he looked cute.
With a traditional chef's suit…
Chef rabbit’s specialty was lovely, marvelous cabbage-carrot stew.
One year there was a drought, and he did not know what to do.
No cabbage anywhere around, okay, maybe he could scrounge up two.
He substituted lettuce, and it was tastier, on a scale, twenty-two.
Chef dog stoked the heat in the kitchen every morn.
He was the best chef in Milwaukee who had ever been born.
He made chicken biscuits, sausage waffles and roadkill stew.
I have always wanted to eat there, wouldn’t you?
Chef rabbit’s specialty was lovely, marvelous cabbage-carrot stew.
One year there was a drought, and he did not know what to do.
No cabbage anywhere around, okay, maybe he could scrounge up two.
He substituted lettuce, and it was tastier, on a scale, twenty-two.
I am handed a bottle of wine
I am told it's French and then, well, that's it
I offer my son another mint
He'll one day discover mint sauce
I'm drinking yoghurt out of a glass
I'm annoyed at the hotel buffet
The fried eggs have all gone
The chef can't keep up
I offer my services behind the counter
I hear the waiter changing his accent with different customers (again)
Love waffles
A bowl of stupid
Liquid breakfast
Eat my shorts
But there was man
Who wanted a statue of himself
In his hometown
On horseback
In the nude
Name a bus shelter after me
What kind of pizza do you want?
I don’t want Dominos or Jacks or Pizza Hut.
My favorite pizza is vintage Chef-boy-Ar-dee
We used to fry up hamburger and make this greasy delight
It was so smeary red greasy, it fell apart in our hand
We had to use a fork, and the crust was delightful.
Making it from a box, seemed like making it from scratch.
I loved it so much, I dream of it sometimes.
chef debouched
placed olykook in hot grease....
esperance flowed
It had yet to enter Mister Jeff’s head
That I know him like the back of my hands:
Never would ask him bread let alone bed,
News of this sure to make it to distant lands…
The choice of a dog alive or lion dead,
A slow building with bricks or the fast with sands;
An offer of dying after being The Head
Or remaining alive just a helping hand,
A tranquil life in a lack-luster homestead,
Or a stormy one in a villa quite grand,
Smoldering with rage for Virgin one did wed…
Or shining with a whore who’d released her hand
It has just struck me I might, again, meet Jeff:
“God! Not in a hotel where Jeff is a chef:
Still I’d know his dish, if he changed Jeff to Clef,
A face surgery that says Clef, not Jeff.
Pete’s whole house is strawberry colored, with fruity designs.
I am getting tired of Chet and his incessant whines.
I cannot believe it but he has strawberry dishes, curtains and doors.
I am tired of Chet and consider giving him big yawns and snores.
All he talks about is his cousin Pete whose color scheme is pink.
And red, with tiny bits of green, as if splattered on by tiny ink.
Strawberry this, strawberry that; Pete has a strawberry outfit for his cat.
I go to Chet’s house and look inside. Everything is done in vintage bride!
Struggling with this silent internal war. A smile on the outside today, is what I fixed and uncomfortably wore.
I felt like the bigger it got the more I could hide. Now only the universe and I can see the dismembered emptiness, that's falling apart from the Inside.
How can I blissfully sit in a room of smiling faces, when I know most of them are too, teetering on the brink of disassociation. We all pretend we are fine, but we have a master feast of feelings marinating for years within our own made up lies.
I am tired of being the sous chef for my own tragedies. I prep these emotional meals, and I store them away and for what a sick twisted pity party for only me?
I really got to start working out the muscles in my face, they need to learn to decipher a real smile from a fake.
I wonder if others notice their glue is slowly showing.
We have to remember you can only hide the stew that's brewing for so long until it starts overflowing, so season your insides with things that make your feeling pot feel full. Also, don't over season feelings you are aware are no good.
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