Japanese Pasta Fork Will Change How You Eat Pasta Forever

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Foodie

Induction

Induction

I am faith. Listen.
Do you hope for practicality?
Simple sciences need no logical answers
Wood and nails,
  fish, bread and kings, kings and kings.
I know you hope for practicality, but
I am epistemic. Listen children.
Episteme is the game. But because and but because.
But that is what you need, I am what you…


You are a dreamer and I am your poster child,
Please look:
  Fish, bread and wine. Wallah!
Everything you need, all answers with a bow.


(sometimes it is a lot easier when things are easy)

Like, if you leave the light on, then you're not alone
I am the light so don’t think. It’s Easy?
Count your blessings one by one,


  you see you're not alone. Think.

Genesis, Yin and Yang, Existentialism. Whoa stop!
This is what I am saying
I am not technically technical, savvy or avant-garde
  So no, don’t think.
I bare the crown of convention, my burden is necessity and
  the millions nurtured.


I am your mother’s milk. I am your because.

Ballad of Mrs. John Henry - Poem/Lyrics?

For that hammer drivin' man
200 pounds and all
Heaven's grace incarnate
10 times 6 feet tall

And that hard steel splendid
As dark as the sky when
That mill whistle sings
Till the morning we'll spend

Your plow aches my clay
Unadorned and unaltered
Just to pave the way
This steam hammer's conquered

Only one could match the will
To two and engage
A matrimonial tithe
This hearts now ablaze

With a fire acquired
Like engine fueled steam
Hot strength so desired
Or something in between

Mother Espagnole - Food

Experience, which plays such an important part in culinary work, is nowhere so necessary as in the preparation of sauce for not only must the latter flatter the palate, but they must also vary in savor, consistency and viscosity, in accordance with the dishes they accompany.
—Escoffier

Filet de Bœuf Rossini à la Périgueux (Beef tenderloin coated with pâté de foie gras and duxelles, which is then wrapped in puff pastry and baked. The sauce is flavored with Madeira and truffle).

WiZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZard - Art

Dear Martin - Poem

Dear Martin

It's all about the tension
Torqued just so tight
Your voluptuous curves
Oh, your hollow insight
What you bring to the day
Or awaken in night
Breathing the voodoo fire
On knees childlike

On all of your 21 steps
Reverence so true
That so many left abandoned
To untimely à dieu
With fortified callous
To accomplish in time
Like a high wire stumble
A lone guitarist's crime

Planed by mortals crafted from
Hard hands of God
This wood and metal customed
As a poor man's hot rod
Tuned to the precision of
Tones deemed succinct
With the players from Woody
To Herman Li like elite

Smooth to the touch cradled
Like long lost lovers
Between you and the sound
There can be no other
Stroking strings softly
your grain on my lips
Placing the last puzzle piece
All surrounded by fifths

Leaned in the corner like some
Pear split in half
Your core bares the seeds
Of what keeps me intact
For it is from your release
That i can soon atone
This feeling of guilt
For not leaving you alone
Though there is much achieved
By mastering such art
It is what has always been
Keeping us apart

So remember as I hold you in
My tired arms this time
To just listen to the sound
Of notes singing rhymes

_______________________________________________________________-----

Sizzle - Poem

Sizzle

Sizzle like blood spilled on scorched earth
  a plastic bag firestorm into such
  puddles of water
Sizzle like green leaves as tinder and the
  hot smoke in your lungs
Sizzle like my toes on the heater,
  asleep on the floor
Sizzle like red hot slag or the arc eye, you
  with no cover
Sizzle like the forgotten dawn giving way to the
  high-noon asphalt, like the throne of Mahuika
  and the furnace of Auschwitz
Sizzle like young fingers grabbing for cookies,
  the sweet with the sour
Sizzle like the spent casing in a collar or
  quick soles on a fire
Sizzle like in the morning when all
  marshmallows are gone and the bucket
  is empty
Sizzle like the arctic processing of a
  once splendid tuber immersed in
  rendered insulation
Sizzle like a spark extinguished in flesh,
  the fat popped on hands or
  oven brushed forearms
Sizzle like the sword of Vulcan plunged
  to the depths of Poseidon, formed
  by the trials of fire
Sizzle like the hard traveled mind,
  rambled and forlorn
Sizzle like the junkie on the corner, the clouds
  of napalm and the raining acid
Sizzle like cleaning bricks, like milk in
  my krispies, like the noxious fumes of a
  garage born Vesuvius shadowed
  by trifold poster boards
Sizzle like radiation from the weapons
  of Armageddon, like a licked thumb and
  finger closing on a wick