Saturday 4 February 2006


A Valediction: souf·flé morning

As virtous egg passe mildly'away,
And whisper to their yolks, to goe,
Whilst some of their sad friends doe say,
The souffle goes now, and some say, no:

So let us melt 30g butter, and make no noise,
Stirring in and cooking 2 tablespoons flour,
'Twere prophanation of our joyes
To stir the roux with love.

Moving of the roux brings smoothness and warmth,
Men reckon what it did and meant,
But adding of warm milk,
One cup, no more, is gradual.

Simmer sublunary lovers roux
(Whose soufflé is near) for 5 minute.
Absence, because it doth remove
Those things which heated it.

But we by a'love, so much refin'd
That we ourselves stir in 1 1/2 tablespoons gruyère,
Inter-assured and finely grated,
and 2 tablespoons of parmesan.

Our 4 yolks therefore, which are added one by one,
Though I must goe, whisk 5 whites
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to ayery thinnesse beate.

If they be five, they are five so
As stiffe egg whites compasses are five,
Thy whites are folded, makes no show
To fold, but gently, into the enriched cheese bechamel.

And though it in the center sit,
Of a buttered and cheesed dish,
It bakes, at 200°c for 23 minutes,
And growes erect, as it comes home.

Such wilt thou be to mee, who must
Like th'other foor, obliquely runne;
Thy firmnes makes my circle just,
And makes me end, where I begunne.

And the souffle is Donne, just right.
It must be served on, or with baguette
to make it a Cook sister!
Extravaganza in this stanza.


Elizabeth said...

I am slackjawed in awe. Brava!

Sam said...

that's funny - i went for a metaphysical poet too!

Ashwini said...

An entire poem? You certainly are creative!

Jeanne said...

OMG, I am soooo not worthy! That's probably the epitome of ovo-literary achievement EVER. Busie old Emma - she may be unrulie but she's certainly no foole...

Emma said...

Thank you so much for the lovely comments! I really enjoyed writing this!