The Master-Cook
With us there rade a Maister-Cook that came
From the Rochelle which is neere Angouleme.
Littel hee was, but rounder than a topp,
And his small berd hadde dipped in manie a soppe,
His honde was smoother than beseemeth mann's,
And his discoorse was all of marzipans,
Of tripes of Caen, or Burdeux snailes swote,
And Seinte Menhoulde wher cooken pigges-foote.
To Thoulouse and to Bress and Carcasson
For pyes and fowles and chesnottes hadde hee wonne,
Of hammes of Thuringie colde hee prate,
And well hee knew what Princes hadde on plate
At Christmas-tide, from Artois to Gascogne.
Lordinges, quod hee, manne liveth nat alone
By bred, but meates rost and seethed, and broth,
And purchasable deinties, on mine othe.
Honey and hote gingere well liketh hee,
And whales-flesch mortred with spicerie.
For, lat be all how man denie or carpe,"
Him thries a daie his honger maketh sharpe,
And setteth him at boorde with hawkes eyne,
Snuffing what dish is set beforne to deyne,
Nor, till with meate he all--to fill to brim,
None other matter nowher mooveth him.
Lat holie Seintes sterve as bookes boast,
Most mannes soule is in his bellie most.
For, as man thinketh in his hearte is hee,
But, as hee eateth so his thought shall bee.
And Holie Fader's self (with reveraunce)
Oweth to Cooke his port and his presaunce.
Wherebye it cometh past disputison
Cookes over alle men have dominion,
Which follow them as schippe her gouvernail.
Enoff of wordes-beginneth heere my tale:--
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Related quotes
Lament for Chaucer
ALLAS! my worthi maister honorable,
This landes verray tresor and richesse!
Deth by thy deth hath harme irreparable
Unto us doon: hir vengeable duresse
Despoiled hath this land of the swetnesse
Of rethorik; for unto Tullius
Was never man so lyk amonges us.
Also who was hier in philosophie
To Aristotle in our tonge but thou?
The steppes of Virgile in poesie
Thou folwedist eeke, men wot wel ynow.
Thou combre-worlde that the my maister slow--
Wolde I slayn were!--Deth, was to hastyf
To renne on thee and reve the thi lyf...
She myghte han taried hir vengeance a while
Til that sum man had egal to the be;
Nay, lat be that! sche knew wel that this y1e
May never man forth brynge lyk to the,
And hir office needes do mot she:
God bad hir so, I truste as for the beste;
O maister, maister, God thi soule reste!
poem by Thomas Hoccleve
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Servent Cook
mother
Cook
with love...
father
Cook
With taste...
Brother
Cook...
With enjoy...
sister
Cook
Simply fine...
Servent
Cook
A boor...
A woor...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Vetela Divas Ni Yaad
A Vetela Divas ni yad ma maru Aaj pan rade che..
A karmi vela ne yad ma maru haiyu pan kampe che..
A Bhujata Diva ni zakhi,
ane
MAA ni Aankh na A Aashu..
a Bhukhya pet ni Nidaru,
mari Aankh ne pan jab kave che...
A Vetela Divas ni yad ma maru Aaj pan rade che..
A karmi vela ne yad ma maru haiyu pan kampe che..
Nathi Mobh..Nathi Mobho..Nathi Ghar ke baar...
Nathi koi Valida kero saath....
A Vetela Divas ni yad ma maru Aaj pan rade che..
A karmi vela ne yad ma maru haiyu pan kampe che..
Duniya ne to tyare Moaj Hati,
pan! ! !
Amare to Rotla ni Khot hati...
A Vetela Divas ni yad ma maru Aaj pan rade che..
A karmi vela ne yad ma maru haiyu pan kampe che..
poem by Sandeep Jahaal
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Dipped and Greasy
Dipped and greasy...
Fingers licked from overeating.
They're dipped and greasy,
From a gluttony treated.
And...
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Dipped and greasy...
Fingers licked from overeating.
They're dipped and greasy,
From a gluttony treated.
And...
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Many praying that the buffet will stay.
Many praying that they'll find another way,
To supply more condiments...
And remove the after dinner mints.
Dipped and greasy...
Fingers licked from overeating.
They're dipped and greasy,
From a gluttony treated.
And...
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Dipped and greasy...
Fingers licked from overeating.
They're dipped and greasy,
From a gluttony treated.
And...
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Dipped and greasy fingers licked...
Are slowly from us fading.
And those lips smacked,
Are begging for the buffet.
But a gluttony once loved...
Is slowly from us fading away.
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
They once were licked with ease,
But those fingers have no buffet.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cook Of The House
Ground rice, sugar, vinegar, seco salt, macaroni too,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
No matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best cause Im the cook of the house,
Cook of the house.
The salads in the bowl,
The rice is on the stove.
Green beans in the colander and where the res is heaven only knows.
Cinnamon, garlic, salt, pepper, corn-bread, curry powder, coffee too,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
No, matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best.
cause Im the cook of the house,
Cook of the house.
Where the rest is heaven only knows.
Matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best cause Im the cook of the house.
Cook of the house,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hello Stranger
(a.p. carter)
Hello stranger
Put your loving hand in mine
You are a stranger
And youre a friend of mine
Get up, rounder
Let a working girl lay down
You are a rounder
And youre all out and down
Every time
I ride the four and six street cars
I can see my baby
Peeping through the bars
He bowed his head
And he waved both hands at me
Hes prison bound
And longing to be free
Ill see you
When your troubles are like mine
Yes. Ill see you
When you havent got a dime
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Adam Lay Ibounden
Adam lay ibounden,
Bounden in a bond.
Four thousand winter
Thoght he not too long.
And all was for an appil,
And appil that he tok,
As clerkes finden
Wreten in here book.
Ne hadde the appil take ben,
The appil taken ben,
Ne hadde never our lady
A ben hevene quene.
Blessed be the time
That appil take was,
Therefore we moun singen
Deo gracias.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Adam Lay Ibounden
Adam lay ibounden,
Bounden in a bond.
Four thousand winter
Thoght he not too long.
And all was for an appil,
And appil that he tok,
As clerkes finden
Wreten in here book.
Ne hadde the appil take ben,
The appil taken ben,
Ne hadde never our lady
A ben hevene quene.
Blessed be the time
That appil take was,
Therefore we moun singen
Deo gracias.
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Love Anit All Ways The Answer
Roses are dead vilets are to.
Imlove but not with you .
You thought you hurt me and maid me cry but know I have felling for another guy.
(chorus)2xs
I thoaught I loved you but I guess I was wrong.
You told me you would be my husband but that wasent true.so I guess
Our love is through.
2(verse)
You tried to be sling and play
Your littel game but being my self I felt
No shame. you told your friends you had a
New bitch I told my friend you had littel dick.
Your told me you loved me but that wasent true.
Guess what babby anll that time Ive ben playing you!!!!!!!!
(chorus) till song fade out
song performed by by Xscape
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Anit All Ways The Answer
Roses are dead vilets are to.
Imlove but not with you .
You thought you hurt me and maid me cry but know I have felling for another guy.
(chorus)2xs
I thoaught I loved you but I guess I was wrong.
You told me you would be my husband but that wasent true.so I guess
Our love is through.
2(verse)
You tried to be sling and play
Your littel game but being my self I felt
No shame. you told your friends you had a
New bitch I told my friend you had littel dick.
Your told me you loved me but that wasent true.
Guess what babby anll that time Ive ben playing you!!!!!!!!
(chorus) till song fade out
song performed by by Xscape
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you didn't know that I am an actress, I don't think you could tell from my lifestyle. I cook and cook and cook. I like to be with my daughter. She's 16, so of course I bore her.
quote by Karen Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't cook - I can cook - but I'm not very good. I like being asked over for dinner, because she can't cook either. We would starve if it weren't for modern technology. I know how to work a microwave, but love home cooked meals.
quote by Mark Mothersbaugh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cherry-Time
Cherries of the night are riper
Than the cherries pluckt at noon
Gather to your fairy piper
When he pipes his magic tune:
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
Under the moon.
And you’ll be fairies soon.
In the cherry pluckt at night,
With the dew of summer swelling,
There’s a juice of pure delight,
Cool, dark, sweet, divinely smelling.
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
In the moonlight.
And you’ll be fairies quite.
When I sound the fairy call,
Gather here in silent meeting,
Chin to knee on the orchard wall,
Cooled with dew and cherries eating.
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter.
For the eater
When the dews fall.
And you’ll be fairies all.
poem by Robert Graves
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Cherry-Time
Cherries of the night are riper
Than the cherries pluckt at noon
Gather to your fairy piper
When he pipes his magic tune:
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
Under the moon.
And you’ll be fairies soon.
In the cherry pluckt at night,
With the dew of summer swelling,
There’s a juice of pure delight,
Cool, dark, sweet, divinely smelling.
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
In the moonlight.
And you’ll be fairies quite.
When I sound the fairy call,
Gather here in silent meeting,
Chin to knee on the orchard wall,
Cooled with dew and cherries eating.
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter.
For the eater
When the dews fall.
And you’ll be fairies all.
poem by Robert Graves
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On The Road Again (1966)
Why I married me a bad girl, tell you the reason why
Bad girls will even do things on the sly
Look for your supper to be good and hot
She never even put a stew bone in the pot
She's on the road again, sure as you're born
Natural born easy on the road again
Friend come by, say looking for his hat
Wants to know where your husband's at
I don't know, he's on his way to the pen
Come on pretty mama, let's get on the road again
Went to my house the front door was locked
Went 'round to my window, but my window was locked
Jumped right back, shook my head,
Big old rounder in my folding bed
Jumped into the window, broke the glass
Never seen that little rounder run so fast
Come on pretty mama, let's get on the road again
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alankar (Decor) -30
Kitchen clash (Double Rondeau)
How difficult it is to cook
In hot summer how a wife to cook
'Take rest, shall buy food from outside'
He says with concern on her side
Wife is happy she need not cook
Happy so life runs like a brook
Variety food, pleased they look
Seasoned hot, they know kitchen's stride
How difficult
Time in hand changed is her outlook
Changed is also her old cook-look
Styleless to stylish in set glide
Makes her new with glow to her pride
She can speak on her strife to cook
How difficult
How difficult but back a cook?
Daughter visits with siren look
There, stirs in dad's heart a high tide
Sneaks'cooking has been set aside
These days mom does not at all cook'
Enough for her to word and hook
Daughter counsels mom back to cook
To be in shifty husband's stride
How difficult!
Luck is but a wheel in life-book
So such a wife can't overlook
And mom vows never to abide
Honeyed words but put them aside
Blamed wife telling herself 'to cook
How difficult! '
poem by Indira Renganathan
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I was like any new bride, who said, 'I'm going to cook for my man.' In fact, once I started a small kitchen fire in a pan. Smoke was pouring from the pan, and I got really scared. Right next to our stove is a small fire extinguisher. You know, easy access.
quote by Catherine Zeta-Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Road Again
Why I married me a bad girl, tell you the reason why
Bad girls will even do things on the sly
Look for your supper to be good and hot
She never even put a stew bone in the pot
Shes on the road again, sure as youre born
Natural born easy on the road again
Friend come by, say looking for his hat
Wants to know where your husbands at
I dont know, hes on his way to the pen
Come on pretty mama, lets get on the road again
Went to my house the front door was locked
Went round to my window, but my window was locked
Jumped right back, shook my head,
Big old rounder in my folding bed
Jumped into the window, broke the glass
Never seen that little rounder run so fast
Come on pretty mama, lets get on the road again
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cooked
What's the use?
Give it best;
Cut her loose;
Have a rest.
Hope is dead;
Gloom collects,
Nuff is said
Cook objects.
Moth and rust
Hither lurk;
All is bust,
Knock off work.
Nation's great
Architects,
Clean the slate;
Cook objects.
Oh the schemes
That we planned!
Dreaming dreams
For the land.
All in vain.
Hope neglects
To remain;
Cook objects.
Navy; what?
Army too?
Blessed rot;
All is blue.
It's all one
Who protects.
dropp your gun;
Cook objects.
Let her rip,
All is up.
Have to sip
Bitter cup.
Tear your hair
Woe connects
With despair,
Cook objects.
Fellow Aust
Ralians,
Trouble's crossed
All our plans.
Seek the tomb;
Fate selects
Us for doom.
Cook objects.
Death marks us
For his own.
(Grisly cuss.)
Our head-tone,
With a laugh,
He erects.
Epitaph
'Cook objects.'
dropp a tear;
Heave a sigh;
End is near;
Say goodbye.
Sell up home
And effects.
(Dismal pome)
Cook objects.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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You may cook in small pots aw well as in large ones.