Who doesn’t love Jaques Pepin?

I just love Jaques Pepin. I love to watch him cook; I love how he loves his friends and family–he’ll toast his wife at the end of a segment and say how she is the love of his life; I love to listen to him describe a recipe in his wonderful accent; and I love how he always gets himself a glass of wine to go with whatever he made on the show. There are not many famous people I would care to meet, but he is one. He inspired me to write this little poem. Happily, I have since perfected his egg-cracking technique.

The Egg

 

Jaques Pepin said

to give it a whack on a flat surface,

that it would crack

perfectly.

 

Yet here I stand picking bits of shell

out of the swirling

viscous

gelatinous

goo.

 

Cream, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg.

Now frothy and sweet,

inviting bread to take a dip.

Sometimes, you just pick out the crunchy bits

and keep on whisking.

 

 

 

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