Sit There And Eat It
OH!
So you want to 'mince' something?
You come in here ready to dice...
With me?
Well...
Let me tell you something right now...
You take this knife!
You see that roasted garlic?
Vadalia onion, parsley and garden tomato?
You dice them first!
You mince that together.
See that sauce pan?
DO YOU?
Put some olive oil in that pan!
Add some seasalt.
Now you add some fresh ground pepper.
Wait until that oil heats!
DO YOU HEAR ME?
DO YOU?
Do you see that cod sitting over there?
Get the butter!
Get the unsalted butter.
What do you mean there is only salted butter?
Then USE it!
Melt it separately.
Dip that cod in that butter.
Throw that diced stuff in that oil.
Sizzle all of it!
Now put that cod in!
YES! Put that in there! In that pan!
And...
When that is finished cooking,
I want you to sit there and eat it!
Every dropp of it!
WHY are you smiling?
I didn't do a thing!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Butter
Pull me from the toaster
Straight into the roaster
Fill my head with the stuff
Brightest dreams are made of
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Duh
Promising the big guns
Reward when the light comes
Screaming from the damage done
Screaming from the damage done
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Duh
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up like I know you will
Cover it up like I know you will
Better yourself like I know you will
Breaking the trust like you always will
Be good for it, you never will
Be good for it, you never will
Be good for it, you never will
Be good for it, you never will
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Duh
So you think you got the best
Thought I was like all the rest
Reaping from the damage done
Reaping from the damage done
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Duh
song performed by by Ultraspank
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spreading Haddock
First pre-heat the oven at 350degrees.
Take approximately 3lbs of fresh haddock,
Season it..
With a compound seasoning of salt
Oregano, pepper/red pepper, garlic powder,
Onion powder, and celery salt.
Gently rub these ingredients into the awaiting haddock!
One baking dish is needed.
Pour one full cup of water/maybe more into dish.
Sprinkle Basil onto the water. YES...B-A-S-I-L.!
Lay that haddock down.
If you have bread crumbs...
Now is the opportunity to crumb this haddock!
Get a stick of butter.
Slice thin butter slices...
And place them on that haddock.
Final touch before slipping this into the oven...
Toss some parsley...on the haddock!
Cover with aluminum foil.
Place this dish into the over for about 30mins!
Next!
Romaine makes the beginnings of a good salad!
Get some fresh Romaine. Wash it.
Get a platter and chop this thing up!
Tomatoes? Fresh? Get 'em! Dice 'em if you wanna!
One large Vadalia Onion. One Green Pepper.
And one jar of Roasted Peppers.
Slice this mess up into a mix.
Yes...
Of course,
Put it on the platter. Remember? Presentation!
There's never been a time for haddock,
As it's time for haddock now!
It should be caressing the kitchen...
And your taste buds by now!
Take it out of the oven.
Let it cool for about 10-15 minutes!
Look at that platter!
Now look at that haddock!
Put that haddock on top of those lucious vegetables!
Take some virgin oil! Yes...make it 'virgin'.
At this point you just want a hint of oil.
NOW...
If you really are serious about your taste buds...
A mix of vinegar/white zinfandel/olive oil,
Is a nice topping!
When you want to do something for yourself...
Spreading Haddock is recommended!
There's nothing like it!
'How many does it feed? '
Why? You're not getting none of this!
That's why I went through the trouble
Of telling you how to make it!
How many does it feed?
One!
Me...Sorry 'bout that!
But this is a meal for the 'survivors! '
LOL...just joking! Have some!
Note: This is my own creation! 'Yes. You have my permission
to use it and treat yourself. You're gonna love it! '
Spreading Haddock...LOL
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Butter Up
Butter up,
If you want to keep me weak and numb.
Butter up,
If you want to be my number one.
Butter up,
If you want to have the weekends done,
With nothing but a loving and done with fun.
Butter up,
If you want to keep me weak and numb.
Butter up,
If you want to be my number one.
Butter up,
If you want to have the weekends done,
With nothing but a loving and done with fun.
And when Monday begins,
We'll have those memories...
To keep!
Butter up!
Butter up!
Butter up, butter up, butter up, butter up!
Butter up...
If you want to keep me weak and numb.
Butter up,
If you want to be my number one.
Butter up,
If you want to have the weekends done,
With nothing but a buttering done with fun.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pancakes and With Baked Salmon
I do have this 'thing'
For my own homemade pancakes.
And with baked salmon!
What a treat to eat.
You are not going to get any that I make!
But here is the recipe.
You can do it just like me.
First beat an egg in a mixing bowl,
Add a tablespoon of baking powder.
A third teaspoon of salt
A full teaspoon of sugar.
And about a third cup of vegetable oil.
Beat that all together.
Now you want to add the flour.
About a cup...maybe more...
If you're serving more than two people.
I choose to use evaporated milk.
At least a cup.
Whip all this stuff up.
Heat that frying pan or griddle.
Medium to hot.
Add some olive oil if you got it.
Vegetable oil will do.
With a slice of butter added too!
OH! I almost forgot the salmon!
I use salmon steaks.
Preheat the oven 350 degrees.
After rinsing the salmon...
Rub with apple vinegar.
Salt and pepper if you please.
Lay on tin foil since this is what I use.
Add butter and a bit of oil!
Enclosed that salmon within the foil.
Baked twenty minutes.
That's all it takes!
ENJOY!
Use syrup on the pancakes.
Perhaps a little Vadalia Onion Dressing,
On the salmon.
And if you don't like this...
You definitely will love,
My brown sugar/mustard roasted chicken.
But I'm not sharing that right now!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Butter?
No Butter? (when a country practice monopoly)
“Butter, the chef said, I can’t fry a snitzel without butter? If I use margarine
it gets too salty and tastes like whale, if I use olive oil, it gets a Portuguese
flavour, a snitzel is Austrian. How can you fry an egg without using butter,
one loses the taste of clover and rural idyll, farm yards and chickens looking
for worms? ” ” Sorry the restaurant manager said, but we have no butter,
you gotta use margarine and anyway the guests are not chefs they will not
notice the difference.”The chef looked aghast, put down his ladle and said:
“You can’t mean that, has all my work comes to nothing? ” Took off his apron,
had tears in his eyes, ready to walk out into the cold night and not return.
“Hang on the manager said, without you I can’t run this place, it is the caring
way you prepare food that our guests like you they know there is a butter
shortage, but they don’t mind as long as they now you are the chef.”
Mollified the cook took his apron back on lifted his ladle and said, “Ok, but
see if you can get some butter even if you have to buy it from the Danes.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I eat peanut butter
I eat peanut butter from a jar
Sitting quitly naked at the bar
Wired in frankincense and cheap olive oil
You can never spot where Ive hidden my old boil
I eat peanut butter with a spoon
Hanging on a telophone from the moon
Looking everywhere for the third rock in my drawer
cause I'm followed by the elaphant whose getting rather cold
I taste peanut butter with marmalade
Its sutured with nectrines with astringent taste
Surrounded by a gang of malefactent tea cups
Coming from Buenos Aries on the back of maple syrup
want to ride the posse of little bitty irishmen?
I lick peanut butter from outerspace
I was born southside so it goes to my waist
I lick peanut butter from a dress
Its my wifes who i never met
I take peanut butter to a zoo
Watching the contortions of the Gaia philharmonic
Exasperating riddles which their tvs cant decode
While swimming in the puzzles of a Lincoln camry ford
Bet you wished their was some Peanut butter
to explain this ghastly poem?
poem by Kevin Patrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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4. A Merry Christmas
Gone shopping for good brandy butter
My homemade plum puddings in need
I don’t want a tin of rum sauce mix
It just wouldn’t do no indeed
Last night’s Christmas Eve rush was crazy
The shop had none left on the shelf
So I bought half a pound of best butter
To mix up with brandy myself
My mixer took brandy and butter
It churned the lot up to a paste
I drank what was left of the brandy
As I don’t like things going to waste
Everyone had a good dinner
With plenty of wine, port and sherry
But no one got fresh brandy butter
We all fell about slightly merry
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Put Your Chocolate In My Peanut Butter!
Hey you, you have too much hair and we dont like what you wear
And you have really bad breath so were gonna beat you to death
Because there is plenty of us and only one of you weve got plenty
Of reasons and heres just a few you put your chocolate in my
Peanut butter I was walking and you were in my way you looked
At me without my permission you never even apologized you put
Your chocolate in my peanut butter thats good enough reason for
Me to bash you put your chocolate in my peanut butter thats good
Enough reason for me to smash no justice / theres just us / so trust us
You put your chocolate in my peanut butter you put your chocolate in
My peanut butter you put your chocolate in my peanut butter you put
Your chocolate in my peanut butter
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What I love is a peanut butter and pickle sandwich. I'll just have peanut butter and bananas, then peanut butter and pickles. Peanut butter and chocolate I don't recommend.
quote by Dianne Wiest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Big Butter And Egg Man
Now she wants...a butter an egg man
From way out in the west
She wants somebody...who's workin' all day
So she's got money...when she wants to play
Now pretty clothes...they'll never be mine
But what she told me the other day
I hope she don't change her mind
Now she wants...a butter an egg man
A great big butter and egg man
From way down south
song performed by by Louis Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blackeyed Peas and Fresh Carrots
Blackeyed peas and fresh carrots cooked,
Together...
Is a surprising combination that is delicious.
Boil a medium pot of water.
Add olive oil, salt, garlic and onion.
Soy sauce with a bit of lemon.
And butter too if you wish this to salivate.
Bring these ingredients together!
In at least a ten minute boil.
Add the blackeyed peas and carrots.
Lower the cooking heat.
And within fourty five minutes,
Enjoy as you eat!
Be careful.
You are going to want this everyday.
Over rice or mashed potatos.
Or perhaps...
With my,
Sweet and sour brown sugar baked steak.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Big Butter & Egg Man
Now she wants...a butter an egg man
From way out in the west
She wants somebody...whos workin all day
So shes got money...when she wants to play
Now pretty clothes...theyll never be mine
But what she told me the other day
I hope she dont change her mind
Now she wants...a butter an egg man
A great big butter and egg man
From way down south
song performed by by Louis Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Krishna Denying He Stole The Butter
O mother mine, I did not eat the butter
come dawn, with the herds,
you send me to the jungle,
o, mother mine, I did not eat the butter.
all day long with my flute in the jungles
at dusk do I return home.
but a child, younger than my friends
how could I reach up to the butter?
all the gopas are against me
on my face they wipe the butter,
you mother, are much too innocent,
you believe all their chatter.
there is a flaw in your behaviour,
you consider me not yours,
take you herd-stick and the blanket
I'll dance to your tune no longer.
Surdas, Yasoda then laughed,
and took the boy in her arms,
mother mine I did not eat the butter.
poem by Sant Surdas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peanut Butter Lovers
Chocolate,
And marmalade...
Is a taste craved by some.
Who may just rave...
About the flavor that comes.
But...
Those who prefer their peanut butter,
Alone...
Spoon it from a jar protected,
As if its diamonds they own.
Peanut butter,
When it's discovered.
Is loved like nothing other,
To soothe one's secret druthers.
It is licked quick from the lips.
And it isn't there long.
Those addicted to their peanut butter,
Have stacks in their homes.
Oh yes, it's peanut butter...
When it's discovered.
Is loved like nothing other,
To soothe one's secret druthers.
Chocolate,
And marmalade...
Is a taste craved by some.
Who may just rave...
About the flavor that comes.
But it's peanut butter,
Loved like nothing other.
It can make one stutter,
When it is discovered.
Oh yes, it's peanut butter...
When it is discovered.
Is loved like nothing other,
To soothe one's secret druthers.
Those peanut butter lovers,
Are different from the others.
Those peanut butter lovers,
Are different from the others.
Those peanut butter lovers.
Keep your chocolate and that marmalade.
Peanut butter lovers,
Are different from the others.
Those peanut butter lovers,
Are different from the others.
Those peanut butter lovers.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Black Eye Pea Stew
Did I mention,
My black eye pea stew to you?
Well...
This is what you do.
Boil your water,
Add sliced smoked turkey butt.
With seasons you prefer.
I like to mix in olive oil with butter first.
Before adding apple vinegar...
With Old Bay and a bit of salt,
Then soy sauce...
To allow my taste buds to burst.
Add your black eye peas.
Speckled butter lima beans.
Kidney and black beans too!
I also enjoy cooking with onions...
Green peppers, carrots and celery.
For a flavored taste,
You simply can not refuse!
Well...
You can 'try' making attempts.
But licking your lips,
Is not too convincing of a defense.
'May I get some more? '
You sure can!
After I get to taste it myself!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's Better Not to Butter Bitterness
It's better not to butter bitterness.
Discuss it...
Then let it go.
Don't let it sit,
To discover it has become a chip
On your shoulder.
Forgiving and forgetting,
Is a goal one can finally reach.
Once the sweetness has been squeezed,
From pretense and anger.
It's better not to butter bitterness.
Especially when some folks,
Love to keep others roasted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Before' The Beans
Take one turkey butt,
And put it in boiling water.
Make sure you had put in olive oil first.
With a little butter, oregano and basil leaves.
Then add two tablespoons of soy sauce.
A pinch or two of brown sugar, salt and red pepper.
20 minutes!
That's all you want to give it 'before' the beans!
Speckled Butter Beans.
With kidney and black eye peas.
Add them with sliced carrots and celery.
Turn down the heat,
To medium for approximately 45minutes.
And serve this with brown rice.
If you are into chicken...
Fried wings would be delicious.
For the better of the best tastes,
The 'smoked' turkey butt is great for that!
NOTE: 'Yes' this is my own original recipe.
Enjoy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Butter Fly Wings
Butter Fly wings
float near my face
and this softest breeze
reminds me of the way
your lips brush mine,
not touching
but close-by
fluttering;
.
gentle usherings
planting butter-fly kisses
on your red mouth
pursed
in the filtered sun.
Butter me,
Butter Fly me
and I will land
where softer souls gather
in butterfly-kissed
kaleidoscopic fields
close to home
where gentle hands
stroke my brow
whilst I inhale
eternity
kissing the face
of Love True.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Ode to Tomatoes
The street
filled with tomatoes
midday,
summer,
light is
halved
like
a
tomato,
its juice
runs
through the streets.
In December,
unabated,
the tomato
invades
the kitchen,
it enters at lunchtime,
takes
its ease
on countertops,
among glasses,
butter dishes,
blue saltcellars.
It sheds
its own light,
benign majesty.
Unfortunately, we must
murder it:
the knife
sinks
into living flesh,
red
viscera,
a cool
sun,
profound,
inexhausible,
pop ulates the salads
of Chile,
happily, it is wed
to the clear onion,
and to celebrate the union
we
pour
oil,
essential
child of the olive,
onto its halved hemispheres,
pepper
adds
its fragrance,
salt, its magnetism;
it is the wedding
of the day,
parsley
hoists
its flag,
potatoes
bubble vigorously,
the aroma
of the roast
knocks
at the door,
it's time!
come on!
and, on
the table, at the midpoint
of summer,
the tomato,
star of earth,
recurrent
and fertile
star,
displays
its convolutions,
its canals,
its remarkable amplitude
and abundance,
no pit,
no husk,
no leaves or thorns,
the tomato offers
its gift
of fiery color
and cool completeness.
poem by Pablo Neruda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peanut-Butter Sandwich
I'll sing you a poem of a silly young king
Who played with the world at the end of a string,
But he only loved one single thing—
And that was just a peanut-butter sandwich.
His scepter and his royal gowns,
His regal throne and golden crowns
Were brown and sticky from the mounds
And drippings from each peanut-butter sandwich.
His subjects all were silly fools
For he had passed a royal rule
That all that they could learn in school
Was how to make a peanut-butter sandwich.
He would not eat his sovereign steak,
He scorned his soup and kingly cake,
And told his courtly cook to bake
An extra-sticky peanut-butter sandwich.
And then one day he took a bit
And started chewing with delight,
But found his mouth was stuck quite tight
From that last bite of peanut-butter sandwich.
His brother pulled, his sister pried,
The wizard pushed, his mother cried,
'My boy's committed suicide
From eating his last peanut-butter sandwich!'
The dentist came, and the royal doc.
The royal plumber banged and knocked,
But still those jaws stayed tightly locked.
Oh darn that sticky peanut-butter sandwich!
The carpenter, he tried with pliers,
The telephone man tried with wires,
The firemen, they tried with fire,
But couldn't melt that peanut-butter sandwich.
With ropes and pulleys, drills and coil,
With steam and lubricating oil—
For twenty years of tears and toil—
They fought that awful peanut-butter sandwich.
Then all his royal subjects came.
They hooked his jaws with grapplin' chains
And pulled both ways with might and main
Against that stubborn peanut-butter sandwich.
Each man and woman, girl and boy
Put down their ploughs and pots and toys
And pulled until kerack! Oh, joy—
They broke right through that peanut-butter sandwich
A puff of dust, a screech, a squeak—
The king's jaw opened with a creak.
And then in voice so faint and weak—
The first words that they heard him speak
Were, 'How about a peanut-butter sandwich?'
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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