JOST A MON

The idle ramblings of a Jack of some trades, Master of none

Ogden Nash, poet par excellence, cast his brilliant eye on many human foibles. Food is a major foible, particularly that prepared by people who refuse to accept they will never be good cooks. Look at this:

My Dear, How Ever Did You Think Up This Delicious Salad?

This is a very sad ballad,
Because it's about the way too many people make a salad.
Generally they start with bananas.
And they might as well just use gila monsters or iguanas.
Pineapples are another popular ingredient,
Although there is one school that holds
Preserves pears or peaches more expedient,
And you occasionally meet your fate
In the form of a prune or a date.
Rarely you may chance to find a soggy piece
Of tomato looking very forlorn and Cinderella-ry,
But for the most part you are confronted by apples and celery,
And it's not a bit of use at this point to turn pale
Or break out in a cold perspiration
Because all this is only the foundation,
Because if you think the foundation sounds unenticing,
Just wait until we get to the dressing, or rather the icing.
There are various methods of covering up the body,
And to some, marshmallows are the pall supreme,
And others prefer whipped cream,
And then they deck the grave with
Ground-up peanuts and maraschinos
And you get the effect of a funeral like Valentino's
And about the only thing
That in this kind of salad is never seen
Is any kind of green
And oil and vinegar and salt and pepper are at a minimum,
But there's a maximum of sugar and syrup
And ginger and nutmeg and cinnamum.

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