New Statesman -- food limericks -- March 7 deadline
 

No 4267
By Leonora Casement
We want limericks on the subject of . . . food adulteration.
As many as you like by 7 March comp@newstatesman.co.uk

Wow! Let's get.... er limericking.

Sand in sugar and water in milk are classics, but does horse for beef count as adulteration or is it just 'passing off''? Perhaps a burger that was 30% horse would be adulteration? Any foodies out there who might know?

I reckon horses are in.

My burger is made out of horse,
A shame and a scandal of course.
It tastes like minced shit
But I don't mind a bit
So long as they tell me the source.

My sausage is mostly dead dobbin,
Looking rather like something you'd gob in,
Plus it tastes like a turd,
But I don't say a word.
(It's a case of political jobbing.)

You know, this is fun. I once worked in a brewery in Edinburgh. Pissing in the beer was the least of it.

The beer in that boozer we kissed in
Tastes like something some bugger just pissed in,
And the pies are pure shite,
But what made it all right
Was the publican's face with my fist in

A bright start, John

A tourist not far from Cape Cod
Sniffed his grill and exclaimed, ‘Very odd!
I expect defunct bovine
Mixed with porcine and ovine
Not something that had to be shod!’


A diner said ‘Damn it! I’m suing!
What on earth was this beast I’ve been chewing?
Did it spend its life neighing
Or – God forbid!– braying
Instead of in lowing or mooing?’

Verse in the NS? What are these lefties coming to, eh, John?

I’d ordered a well-done filet
Advertised as the dish of the day.
But I felt rather silly
When I found it was filly;
One bite, and I had to say “Nay!”

Not surprisingly, Frogs will eat frogs
And other things living in bogs;
Yet even they shun
In a hamburger bun
Bits of rats, or of cats, or of dogs.

I opened a tin of fish stew,
But my misgivings rapidly grew.
What creature that’s finny
Has hooves and can whinny,
Or smells of equestrian poo?

We went to our local Chinese
With “Confucius”, our dear Pekinese.
We asked for a bowl,
But they served him up whole
With a sauce that they’d made from his fleas.

I love to eat lobster and scallop,
And caviar, maybe a dollop,
But certainly not
A beast that can trot
Or canter, or god forbid, gallop.

The old jokes are the best, are they not?

'Good God!' I exclaimed, as I bit
On my fillet of horse, 'This is shit!'
'But' (a bow to my wife,
The stay of my life),
'It is perfectly cooked, I admit.'

I must think of some less fecal rhymes.

Two rivals for lovely Laetitia
Were told that she’d marry the dishier.
So master-chef Donald
Made mincemeat of Ronald
And served him as “Beef Amatricia”.

John Whitworth was fond of scatology;
He’d written a massive anthology.
His doctoral thesis,
A paper on faeces,
Was shit - or is that a tautology?

Touche (with a bloody accent). I fear at school those not entirely happy with my beautiful personality used to refer to me as shitworth. How nasty of them!

Who cares if the beast never mooed
Before it was slaughtered and stewed?
So what if it neighed?
The sound it once made
Can't be heard in a plateful of food.

The restaurant, classy and tony,
Served sirloin, not spam or baloney,
Or so people thought
Till the day they were caught
Supplanting their sirloin with pony.

I’m happy to try this and that:
Leg of ferret, or ragout of bat.
But I do draw the line
When I’m given my wine
In a glass where the waiter has spat.

Our restaurants are now international;
To balk at the horse is irrational.
But I stifled a tear
As I thought how, last year,
My ‘prime Angus’ had won the Grand National.

Ragout of bat. That slays me.

A few slow lengths up and down the swimming baths and I came up with this.

The pies of our butcher in Sydney
Were described as The Best Steak and Kidney,
Which wasn't quite true.
They were old kangaroo,
So he did for us properly, didn't he?

That last one's of Brian is a winner.

You guys don't leave any effluvia un-fluved.

Nor any turd unstoned.

Three shits in the wind.

(I don't know if this rhyme will work outside of NY)

I thought I was dining on cattle,
But chewing became great battle.
I found out the truth
When I busted a tooth
On the stud of a fine English saddle.

John, at this point I think we should put a full stop after all that scatology. Or at least a colon.

Roger,
It works fine up in my neck of the woods.

The Cambodian waitress served chow
That in previous days said “meow”;
But her sinuous grace,
And that smile on her face
Had me wolfing it down, anyhow.

Jerome,

Regarding watered milk, Thoreau remarked that finding a trout in the milk was a good example of when circumstancial evidence ought to be admissable.

Then, there is an old joke about the temperence reformer who visits a small town, and rents a lecture hall. Finding out that the local saloon's sales have increased 25 percent in the last year, she harrangues the crowd about how the town is drinking 25 percent more alcohol than before. From the back of the hall, the saloon owner shouts, "No, Ma'am ... They're drinking 25 percent more water!"

In reply to your question, I would say that 30 percent is well above the threshold for adulteration. It the horse gets above 50 percent, then it would be horsemeat that has been adulterated with beef.

Madison Avenue would use the word "enriched", and charge extra for the horsemeat; Adulteration sounds too legalistic.

I do not know any foodies, but I know a few adulterers (even an adultress or two). If I run into one on my next trip to town, I'll ask for an "expert" opinion.

Roger, did you mean 'supplementing'? Caddle - baddle - saddle ?
Well, not quite (yet) in UK but if you're called Leonora Casement (? real name) perhaps anything goes. Yes, the 'pure Angus' is fine, but will Leonora allow the international-National identity?

Douglas, let's hope Leonora's wording was a nod and a wink to the
equine shenanigans.

Jerome,
I'm hoping that she's not a cat fanatic, hasn't a wolf dog, and hasn't married a Cambodian.

No, I don't think it's her real name. Have you ever met anyone called Leonora?

What you find in an old English stew
Is donkey, dog, horse, kangaroo,
Yes, all of the mammals
Including the camels
With bullfrogs and crocodiles too.

Jerome, I think it is well within the tradition of limericks. Indeed, some of them even end with an entire phrase repeated from an earlier line.

On the other hand, if you can think of another word that rhymes with 'national' and 'rational' ...

P.S. I too have wondered as to the significance of the name 'Leonora Casement'. The competition lady at the NS is actually Vicky Hutchings.

Douglas, you have one extra syllable in the second line of your limerick. To my ear at least.

Have you ever met anyone called Leonora? (John W.)

Yes, John, strangely enough I have. I was researching an article about lethal pine-cones, as one does, and for comparison purposes needed to know the weight of an average coconut so the lovely Leonora kindly put one on her scales for me in the grocer's shop she was then working in. This was on the S. Devon coast, but it turned out that by an amazing coincidence she hailed from the next village down the Wye in Herefordshire from the one I lived near for six golden youthful years.
Ahhh . . . but then ohhh . . . she had married a local Labour activist, so it was not to be. (Sob)

The coconut weighed about 2 pounds, by the way. You never know when that sort of information might come in useful.

Bob, isn't there an 'a' missing before 'great battle'?

Jayne

I'm new here, but I'm a limerick addict:

Dear restaurant, please don’t feel hurt
If I spurn you, including dessert.
I have very good grounds:
Word is making the rounds
That your food features soil — that’s the dirt.

A guy in the mood for a bite
Was upset — not one rest’rant in sight.
All he found was a deli
Whose odor was smelly.
Did he live through his meal there? Not quite.


My date dropped dessert on the dirt.
“Please don’t eat it,” I managed to blurt,
As he started to chew
On his now blackened goo,
Saying “5-second rule — it won’t hurt.”

A bathroom-bound man felt sub-par
After eating an energy bar.
He exclaimed, “Sticky wicket!
I’ve just eaten cricket!
Insect protein is going too far!”

There's rather a paucity of girls on D & A, so welcome, Madeleine!

I'm not afraid to employ the 5-second rule (in my own kitchen, at least ;) )

Jayne

Yes, welcome Madeleine. I wish we could entice Fiona Pitt-Kethley (now in foreign parts). She was, and is, an ace with rhymes. Used to win these competitions too. She penned this gem. Do excuse the rudery.

Emily Bronte
Took her crayons by Conte
And drew pricks, cunts and balls
On the Parsonage walls.

Can someone else do the accents?

Emily Brönte
Took her crayons by Conté
And drew pricks, cunts and balls
On the Parsonage walls.

There you go, John. (To do an é you press ctrl alt and e at the same time. I transported the ö from Word ('Insert' then 'symbol'; easy peasy!)

Jayne

John, you are right. I've just blasted the superfluous "can" into oblivion.

Jayne and John, thanks for the warm welcome!

Paul, it's good to see a familiar face. Okay, face is probably not the right word, but still...

Robert Schechter has spoken highly of your group on several occasions. I'm glad I finally stopped by.

Thank you, Jayne. I LOVE that Clerihew. The picture it conjures up!

On the other hand, if you can think of another word that rhymes with 'national' and 'rational' ... (BA)

Not really, Brian, but maybe you could change the venue?

With globalisation so thorough
Horse now tops the bill in my borough,
But I stifled a tear
As I though how, last year,
My 'prime Angus' romped home at the Curragh.

Yes, welcome, Madeleine. I'm surprised that one of our esteemed moderators has not expressed his pleasure on learning that cricketing expressions are now current among New Yorkers. Perhaps you've figuratively yorked him.