Check, Please!
Those who believe,
A quality obtained...
Can be kept and yet replace,
Those who initiated that quality to please...
In the first place.
With a keeping of the same taste expected,
Fool only themselves.
It takes much more than a replacement to restore,
That which has been established...
Patrons served came to adore.
And the ones who ignore this,
Know very little about 'their' business!
But a lesson learned that is earned...
Eventually teaches.
'Excuse me...
But,
Is your chef on vacation? '
The one we admired for his presentation? '
~No we've replaced that chef.
We could not meet his demands or expectations!
And frankly...
His arrogance we could no longer accept.
We paid him his worth.~
'I see.
May we have our checks, please? '
~Would you like to select something else from the menu? ~
'Why?
Would that change the ambiance?
You've already destroyed that,
By taking our preferences for granted.
Check, please! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
He Prefers Pears
Apples may be the fruit of choice.
But the chef says he prefers pears in his kitchen.
'Are you ready to order?
Or would you rather find a more suitable view?
The chef wouldn't mind at all!
Afterall...
How did you know we were here?
Someone made to you
Our menu clear!
If not by taste...
Certainly by a choice that was voiced?
Quality here is our adventure.
With a hint of heat to leave you moist! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Such Misconceptions
The personality of anything taken for granted,
And either consciously or unconsciously destroyed...
Can not be duplicated, revitalized or just simply replaced.
Many have attempted to do such a thing,
With hopes to capitalize and profit selfishly to themselves bring.
By restoring buildings with a luxurizing of them to take place.
Some even believe the removal of people,
That initiated a charm and grace respected and loved...
Would benefit from others tampering with it,
If the originators just weren't there 'or' solicited.
And a flair in the atmosphere was tweaked.
Such misconceptions are disappointingly not unique.
The personality of anything taken for granted,
And either consciously or unconsciously destroyed...
Can not be duplicated, revitalized or just simply replaced.
People not understanding this,
Eventually wish for a flavor their taste buds seek.
And,
Unfortunately...
These lessons aren't learned until it is much too late.
No one...and it will never be done,
Can just up and replace the personality of anything.
No matter what attempts are tried!
Or expenses wasted in the doing of it...
In denials they wish kept hidden and swept aside.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The quality of mercy (conditions apply)
The quality of mercy,
Portia declared,
the quality of mercy is
suspended during the present conflict
the quality of mercy is
not the business of a Minister of Justice
the quality of mercy is
not a matter of individual conscience
the quality of mercy is
too subtle for public discussion
or law
the quality of mercy is
only for Shakespeare and stuff
the quality of mercy is
less stimulating than revenge
the quality of mercy is
no business of yours
the quality of mercy is
no concern of religious authorities
who should stay silent
the quality of mercy is
an outdated concept
the quality of mercy is
nothing to do with forgiveness
or circumstantial evidence
or the remission of sins
the quality of mercy is
no longer a matter of pride
the quality of mercy is
no longer a mark of humanity
the quality of mercy
would be OK if Obama said so
the quality of mercy
is one hell of a hot potato
cooked in oil
the quality of mercy
droppeth as the gentle
dew from heaven
upon a broken fuselage
and it is too much
or too little
for our understanding.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From Seats to Feet
A style that brings the people,
From seats to feet...
Is something that isn't easily done.
Especially if more than a few are pleased.
This is a skill of a master,
Unmasked.
And more than any other,
Who has crafted a task.
And it...
Takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
It takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
Yes it,
Takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
To whip a cake to taste takes more than a...
Shake and bake!
A style that brings the people,
From seats to feet...
Is something that isn't easily done.
This is a skill of a master,
Unmasked.
And more than any other,
Who has crafted a task.
And it...
Takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
It takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
Yes it,
Takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
To whip a cake to taste takes more than a...
Shake and bake!
No need to ask a master what is the task.
When people move from seats to feet,
They've been razz-a-ma-tazzed.
And it...
Takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
It takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
Yes it,
Takes a chef to know just how to bake a cake.
To whip a cake to taste takes more than a...
Shake and bake!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sautéed In Fiasco
Simmering and sautéed in fiasco,
This chef finds himself...
Blending a mix the patrons have nixed!
Overheated in a kitchen,
With a haste that loses taste.
And a flair that has been wasted,
On those baited to sip!
They split in droves...
And leave him this tip:
'This feast you prepared,
For us to eat...
Continues to sour
The air on the streets!
The menu was fabulous.
One we all thought we would like!
But you have shown you're a flapjack king...
With promises of pheasant to delight!
You offered us substance,
And we have waited too long for that!
Your skills are based on delusion...
Infusing hors d'oeuvres served in crap!
We can no longer wait for more,
We are sealing your doors...
With you entrapped!
Nothing you have done has pleased anyone.
We want our money back,
Before the others come...
And burn down your shack! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Set On Auto-Pilot
Not only have they been,
Floating along powered by denial.
Their minds have been set on auto-pilot,
For as long as the supplies held out.
Now no one can convince them,
They must swim to shore...
Aided by their own initiative.
For them what had existed,
Is no more!
Many have chosen to ignore this warning.
With a demand for a new menu.
And a replacement of a chef...
That has never existed to prepare a new dish.
They laugh and perceive this to be an absurdity.
'Excuse me? '
And the tides are rushing ever so close,
To toss them all over a cliff.
And this...
They protest with the loudest of voices.
And wish all of this nonsense,
Be stopped by the shutting of lips.
Excuse me?
Waiter?
Waiter?
Did you see him pass us?
As if he did not hear me.
WAITER?
That's it.
He gets from me no tip! '
That is why they pass petitions.
To avoid this 'foolishness'.
'Waiter?
And he's parading around here,
With a lifejacket on.
Waiter?
I'm demanding your presence immediately.
Oh no he didn't! !
Did you see him sush me? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Animal Rights (A Restaurant Sold Fried Fish Cruelly)
In Taiwan, there was a restaurant,
sale promotion gimmick of which was very abhorrent.
It was a smoky fried fish,
a spicy and good -smelled dish.
There was a glass fish pond,
swimming in it were fish...big, fat and long.
Beside it was a fish net,
by which the chef would catch.
Then he quickly removed the scale with a knife,
and on the body he cut and sprinkled with salt and spice,
while the fish was still alive.
Then with wet towel he grabbed the fish head,
while the gill huffing and puffing to catch the breath.
Into the sizzling hot oil, the body was slowly dipped,
which in painful agony, flapped and flipped.
The fish struggled in a desperate attempt,
causing the hot oil to splash,
onto the chef's hand,
making him cry in pain as if the world was going to end.
Before the fried fish was going to be served,
he put into the mouth of it the lighted cigarette,
an act so sickening,
horrifying and disgusting.
Then the Animal Rights Group lodged a strong protest.
The chef was afraid his business got into the red.
removed that dish from the list of menu.
He was almost legally sued,
making his mood get into the blue.
The chef sells the fish in a way so cruel and selfish,
to the animals he shows pity, not a little bit.
A Dish (cuisine) that talks
I am a dish that talks
and usually i want the chef
to do his stuff my way
wishing this, wishing that
hoping to be the next best dish
to top the restaurant list
as the chef sprinkles
his spices and salt onto me
i diffident would complain of
the excesses, the overindulgent
use of veggies and mutton
or mollusks, mustard
vinegar and pepper
and even the overheating,
charbroiled, stir fried
steam cooked or stewed
i want it my way giving
little regard to the chef's expertise
for fear of becoming an
offensive blandness on
the tongues of the masters
over enthusiastic over
what would turn out of me
only when my fragrance
spreads over the table
to trigger that salivating
nerves in mouths that
the buddha himself would
jump over the wall to
have me in his belly that
i realise the chef is correct
he is cooking me and he knows
how best i should be served
that exquisiteness that could only
result from an original recipe
the chef himself knows best
how he should turn out his creation
i take the opportunity to ask him
what he finds most in the way
as he tries to realise his dream of me
and he says 'Your load of bland ego
with the toughness of a three year old chicken.'
'It takes such a long time to just
boil them down to edible portions.'
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Infested and Compromised
Concentrate on removing that stuff off your plate.
The 'stuff' that you ordered but now say you hate?
On the menu it may look tempting to please..
But the picture is painted,
To attract with its photography!
The presentation is meatless...
It's lacking of beef!
There's nothing to sink the teeth into...
Nothing worthy enough to repeat!
Hoping one might be ready,
For a taste of exquisite dessert...
But the chef that has mixed this wasted crap,
Gets paid under the table and lays in dirt!
This place was selected,
Since many thought they had 'arrived'!
But it seems more nastier at the top...
Than anyone of merit could ever realize.
There is much more filthyness,
With an urgency to be sanitized!
When those climbing to achieve prestigious success,
Leave those on the bottom...
Infested and compromised!
Unconcerned where they head,
Or how steep their nose dive!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vanilla Sky
The chef prepares a special menu for your delight, oh my
Tonight you fly so high up in the vanilla sky
Unbearable or great
You gotta love every hour, you must appreciate
This is your time
This is your day
Youve got it all
Dont blow it away
The chef prepares a special menu for your delight, oh my
Tonight you fly so high up in the vanilla sky
Melted tinbeads cast your fortune in a glass of wine
Snail or fish, balloon or dolphin, see yourself shine
This is your time
This is your day
Youve got it all
Dont blow it away
The chef prepares a special menu for your delight, oh my
Tonight you fly so high up in the vanilla sky
In the vanilla, in the vanilla, in the vanilla sky
In the vanilla, in the vanilla, in the vanilla sky
In the vanilla sky
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like None Other Can Produce
I've been both on top and on the bottom,
And have witnessed those mediocre...
Perform with pretentions to get attention.
Believing to get noticed,
Will aid in their feelings of self worth.
But if one truly is connected to self,
And appreciates the ownership of an identity...
It matters not,
Who decides who should deliver what to whom...
To have it expressed and rated.
It will still achieve a quality like none other can produce.
Regardless where in the kitchen it is placed,
It will still be sought after...
For the taste it satisfies.
And that is why the texture of the mix can not be replicated.
Only a knowing 'chef' not just a 'cook' does this!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As Genuine As Those Who Know It
Whether it becomes displayed,
Or laid in the shadows to dust...
Quality is eventually discovered.
And known to show what it is.
Quality dusted never ages to rust.
No matter what attempts are made,
By those unappreciative of its value.
A quality that remains to be quality,
Is as genuine as those who know it!
Regardless of what rating it gets.
Quality can not be rated against,
That which it has no peers.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Staying Swift On My Feet Keeps Me Peaceful
You snooze you lose,
That's it.
I'm no longer in the business,
In keeping you updated...
As to what occurs,
In front of your doorstep.
I've had to break away from that habit,
That addicted you...
To select which objections,
You preferred to accept.
When you allowed them to happen.
And I annoyed you as you slept!
Oh no...
Some things in my life,
I just had to let go!
You snooze you lose,
That's it.
I'm no longer in the business,
In keeping you updated...
As to what occurs,
In front of your doorstep.
And too tired have I become,
From excusing myself through it...
When from you I would leave.
Only to return.
To find you still unaware and fast asleep.
And getting disrespect,
Coming at me from both ends...
I could no longer justify.
You can close your eyes and keep them closed,
For all I care.
Today I don't have those concerns.
You snooze you lose,
That's it.
I'm no longer in the business,
In keeping you updated...
As to what occurs,
In front of your doorstep.
I have learned,
Staying swift on my feet keeps me peaceful.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nibbles Abandoned On Picked Over Plates
Do people honestly care who initiated their ability,
To continue eating at a feast?
Since some who have come to munch,
Have desires to have their selections chosen...
By placing them out in front,
To 'try' to duplicate what others obviously appreciate.
The only time people express concern,
Is when it is believed...
Fewer people are eating up all the selected treats.
And it is assumed one chef has been favored...
Because it seems as if this one chef,
Has secret recipes that teases a choice for many to eat.
And it is suspected there is a cheating...
To make those unbeatable delicious treats,
The ones preferred by those who eat them.
No matter what the grade of taste the others are given.
Or the nibbles abandoned on picked over plates,
Given undeserved ratings for being great although mediocre.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Was a Time Cream Rose to the Top
There was a time cream rose to the top,
With expectations.
Today the appearance of BS is there.
Lots of it!
Disappointing patience.
And most of it sitting unappreciated,
By those choosing to ignore imitations.
Preferring in anticipation...
Something that identifies quality and taste.
And that may be a very long wait.
Especially for those who know the difference,
Between scratched and boxed cake.
And what it takes to bake it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Girls best friend.
This Cocker spaniel rules the roost
She takes no commands unless her interests it suits
Prawn snacks, chicken dinners
Controlling this mistress is a winner
She goggle eyes the chef as he prepares his banquet
At squiggly icing she shows no interest
Her belly has a place for the roast
The very thing of which the chef continually boasts
Slinking under the table, she surfaces beside
Now there’s nothing else under which to hide
A deft lunge, teeth take hold
She’s not to think `hot or cold?
Amid clatter, there’s also some heavy`
And now she on the retreat and covered in gravy
In his fury, chef has found a meat cleaver
Sanity returns, that wouldn’t clever
`how am I to feed them? Heaven, give me fate
An unflustered owner rescues her pooch, she orders `Let them eat cake`!
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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It Takes An Absence
It takes an absence felt,
For many people to realize...
What and who in their lives,
Had provided them with a significance.
It takes an absence for an awakening to occur,
To stir up priorities with a reviewing...
Of what had topped their most wished list.
With a doing when one finally gets around to it.
It takes an absence missed with a remorse that sits,
For the ones who had been taken for granted...
Now 'suddenly' appreciated for their contributions made.
Those who never mentioned,
Requests to receive an attention to them given.
And it takes an absence with attempts to replace,
A void that appears one no longer can face...
To fill a vacuum that had been once shared and enjoyed,
By those who frequently were thought to have annoyed.
Yes an absence teaches those lessons learned,
Thought by some to be preached when comments made...
Were believed to leave some ears to burn.
To remind the receiver what they have sometimes was given,
And not by them earned as believed.
It takes an absence missed when reminiscing...
Those perceived could be easily dismissed.
And absences that are often missed,
Are those wished could be returned with more thoughtfulness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Want To Know That You Will Munch
If it is going to be from me stated,
Not a syllable connected...
Has been chosen in haste.
I do not intend to waste time.
Neither yours or mine.
Throwing anything together,
To satisfy a taste.
I don't want you just to nibble.
I want to know that you will munch.
If I find there is something important to say,
And I regard you as an important receiver?
I am not going to select anything quickly,
To pick and appease what I believe,
Will be acceptable to your taste.
I am not that kind of chef.
To deliver less than my best
If what I say is important enough to say to you,
That importance I show to you I wish to keep.
I want you to expect each time a feast from me.
And if that is not believed...
I have no other way to convince.
Other than to ignore you.
And I perceive you have been already,
Accustomed to that.
Or you wouldn't be so offended,
By the closeness of my approach.
Or my willingness to remain attached.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Uncleaned Plates
To entitle those with entitlements,
With a bestowing of titles...
That represents,
Nothing that comes to benefit...
The ones once believing,
They were prioritized constituents.
As if routines like this were forever cemented,
In a greatness felt without it being mentioned,
To remind those who now pay little or no attention.
And comprising without compromise,
Those wishes they would get fulfilled...
By a voting to have their requests recognized,
But offers no meat on a menu long replaced...
To capitvate with a teasing of only desserts,
To be served with patience as stated all deserve.
And with a waiting that never satisfies the taste...
Year after year until a quality remembered,
Becomes that which is waste on uncleaned plates.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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~~~The Chef~~~
Saucy as the tang of Chili...
...Warmed as gingers heated groans-
Taste delight of Curry to the palate...
...Sweet as Honey Bees, to their drones...
Sirens scented journey-
Into aroma's of London Town...
Satisfied a billowing hunger...
Placed a smile and erased a frown...
Courted with Heavenly Manna-
Ushered in, by taste buds sweet...
Raised and baked in sheer splendour-
Temperature of ovens complete!
In the kitchen of attractions wonder-
Sizzles a Chef So Supreme...
Seasoned and hand crafted taste delight
He's todays: 'Cream De La Cream'
Ordinary cook, no never? !
Naturally adept at La Cuisine...
Evermore shall he create...
Succulent, saucy, dreams...
Watch: Take Home Chef
TLC, Weekdays
4: 00 P.M. Eastern
Dedicated to:
Chef: Curtis Stone
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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