Crushing peppers of Chilean region,
rubbing eyes with wrist to avoid the sting.
Saturated artichokes coat the two-ply,
the cornstarch crust fumbled over
it's aluminum edge.
Biting off the plastic wrapping,
I deliver the bitters
across the planks of sirloin troops.
Vinegar washes the sins of collards,
while keeping photosynthesis intact.
Knuckles complain
from kneading on bamboo block.
Braising the chops with fresh sherry
offers more benefit than
store-bought blandness;
drinking straight from the bottle,
I'll add the sea-salt later.
Fashionably early
for the meeting with wound timers,
I release aromatic persuasions
from gas-induced compacting,
turning dials down to humbler stances.
Back burner kicks out his roommate,
a temporary reduction.
I add into them elixir of almond
to emulsify disputes.
Rinsing the sinks with bleached tossing,
I grab her macrame attempts
and line the marble bar,
sometimes referred to as a table.
At least when company visits.
Honorable mention
Adding your comment:
a very creative piece here... you have made the mundane into something artist and you have done a great job of putting the reader into the author or in this case the chef's shoes.
