Whether you love or hate Caesar Salad, it’s popular enough – and ruined often enough by restaurants – to merit a slightly rude poem all about it. Bon appétit.
Caesar Salad, that’s my joy – a culinary homily
Repeated in Brit gastropubs with regular monotony
And Stateside served in volumes big enough to feed a family
But, for me, it’s an excuse for sheer and bloody gluttony.
Now, God help the commis chef who forgets about anchovies
And not those boring pseudo fresh jobs, thank you very mucho [Read more…]