Food Poetry

Every once in a while, I’ll try to feature a poem about food (thereby incorporating two things which keep me alive each day) for your reading pleasure.  Today’s poem is by Ron Padgett, an Oklahoma native who studied in New York and Paris during the artistic glory days of the 1960s.  Enjoy!

The Love Cook

Let me cook you some dinner.
Sit down and take off your shoes
and socks and in fact the rest
of your clothes, have a daquiri,
turn on some music and dance
around the house, inside and out,
it’s night and the neighbors
are sleeping, those dolts, and
the stars are shining bright,
and I’ve got the burners lit
for you, you hungry thing.

On Plating

I like to think that one of the most important culinary achievements of our time (our time being, oh, the 1980s forward) is the ability of chefs to present dishes in a manner that elevates food from mere sustenance to an art form.  Granted, some people can take this a bit too far into that grievous “food porn” territory (I’M LOOKING AT YOU, NIGELLA LAWSON), but on the whole I’m quite happy to think that I’ll never be presented with this:


Or this:


Both monstrous dishes are courtesy of the reliably hilarious Gallery of Regrettable Food (the website, that is).  If you’ve never been there before, go posthaste.  Among my personal favorite galleries are The Unbearable Sadness of Vegetables and the bilious 10pm Cookery.

The point of all this is that there’s a new book out called Gastroanomalies, which is in the same vein as the Gallery of Regrettable Food (and by the same author, James Lileks) and which I will most definitely be giving out to friends and family this Christmas.  NPR recently did a great story on the book and Mr. Lilek’s fascination with frightening food.  You can listen to it here.