The prince and I are not friends,
though he seems a nice enough guy
and I respect him and I value the role he plays.

However my uncle,
my father's big brother,
knew him better
and fed him snacks.

As a boy
the prince would slip into the palace kitchen
between meals.
Sometimes he would persuade
his big sister too.
And my uncle would sit them down
and find a snack for him
and perhaps for his sister
and he would make them laugh.

I know this because of the prince's note.

The prince sent a note to my aunt
and it was read at the family gathering
following my uncle's funeral.

A cheeky boy from Catford,
a kitchen worker,
and later the royal chef,
laughing and showing kindness to the young prince
and to the future princess royal;
now remembered and valued by family
and also by royalty.

What do you think of that?

When I ordered Welsh Rabbit, a rabbit wasn't included.
The restaurant ripped me off, that was what I concluded.
All that I was served was some cheese on toast.
I soon learned that the chef wasn't a nice host.
I wanted a rabbit and that was what I demanded.
He threw me out the door because he said I needed to be reprimanded.
i was upset at that chef so I decided to enter his restaurant again.
When he was through I thought they'd have to call my next of kin.
He burned my **** with his stove and hit my head with a frying pan.
I soon learned that when that chef gets riled, he's a dangerous man.
If you order Welsh Rabbit at his restaurant and ask for a rabbit, he will say no.
And for your own safety you should leave his restaurant peacefully, just let it go.

Please do it
And get it done
And be serious
And be fun
And enliven those around you to be their best

Never rest
Never settle

Let your world be determined by worth and mettle
Meddle in every affair
Detail every error
Never back peddle
Or be caught unaware

It's not the photographer,
alone,
who makes food look soooo good,
the Chef feeds him,
beautiful specimens,
each,
with a unique professional talent,
and taste is probably,
one of the most highly subjective things,
I know,
there are standards,
origins and roots,
personality traits and how you were raised,
excetera,
most of my siblings are amazing cooks too,
there's a certain way of looking,
at each flavor individually,
and then the combination,
knowing that it will work or not,
alone together with many,
just in your mind.
then your hands,
add some brain power,
a magic heart,
use your taste BUDS,
add an unexpected ingredient,
PRESTO - Magic Kitchen!!!

Putting the ingredients together,so that it will taste good for the masses,
not just for you,
even though it is for you too,
a lovely reward in sharing your skills,
you appreciate the depth of flavor,
more than anyone else could,
the love and thought in there,
not because they don't have the same level,
but because we are all so,
individual,

But the best chefs,
in my humble opinion,.
study preservatives,
and avoid 'em
study as much as they can,
sources,
herbs and cuts of meat,
oils and fats,
I know it matters to me,
where it comes from,
whether it's from VERMONT,
or around the world,
I want to know the story,
and how to cook it even,
super cheap stuff,
learn about cultural influence,
like familial influences,
America's Test Kitchen got it right,
know your BEST practices,

We know our tastes completely,
appreciate & know about others tastes as completely as possible,
they totally understand how it works,
it's how their mind ticks,
miraculously inventive,
with a few new things up their sleeves,
yeah takes on traditions,
TwIsTs they say,

Can be classy or catastrophic,
or somewhere in the middle,
and people aren't going to eat,
the catastrophic ones,
but if they know all the different recipes,
what can and cannot be substituted,
or added,
like the right herbs,
for example,
a dash of this,
after that,
or what could we leave out,
savory or sweet,
or both,
whether you can use this cheese or that one,
or many,
what are they like cold,
what are they like at room temperature, how should they be heated,
is it best to use it fresh,
what you can make on a dime,
how about a bottle of vinted wine?

I could go on but you get my point,

I put things together that no one else has,
true art,
and I think bingo!
Brilliant!
And I'm happy to report
that others believe this,
others that I trust,
feel that I can do this,
miraculously perfect,

No real failures,
because everything is learning,
and my mind is always yearning,
in the dollars I am earning,
a real blessing should be shared,
I am always eager,

To learn more unknown,
helpful,
ingredients to life.

I had to go into the big city
well big for me anyway
a beautiful drive still dreaming I think
looks right down on the water that city
at Lake Champlain.

So what did you get?

Oh. You're seriously asking, alright.
Well, it's for a lovely couple this weekend getting married.

Oh I see, do tell Chef ?

I picked some beautiful ingredients
for pumpkin cheesecake
some candies...
I especially love the sunflower seed drops in magenta, violet, lime green, burnt orange, tangerine and dark  chocolate,
they look like little fall tears.

I also found some vinted
honeymoon wine
A voigner
with a lovely fragrant crisp taste

Hmmmm...interesting, go on?

It signifies the full moon in June after the flowers turn into young grapes some honeysuckle Aromas followed by luscious mango and nectar
Paired with roasting chicken
& beautifully seasonal fingerling potatoes
and this amazing rustic sweet potato bread
gorgeous heirloom vegetables in a few various choices
delicately cooking squash
all seasoned to perfection bringing
nutty joy to all
in an aromatic feathery plume of goodness
finally...
green goddess dressing and roasted nuts, berries among other toppings for a brilliant salad.

Oh...well any invitations still open?

I'm not sure, but you can be my guest in the kitchen come along

take your hat off what's the hurry?

Cherie Nolan© 2016

He knows so many techniques
He has proven his recipes
The ingredients are there
And he's ready to create
But instead of waiting for his ideas to marinate
Sometimes it's better
To just go raw.
Because like any good chef
he can make things up on the go.
And like every chef
He is the first to taste
and first impressions dominate.
For better or worse.

dear . . . sweetie,

the projections of your essence is the type
to cook up a future of you;
of the home you call your heart,
or how you let it spill across the metal table,
just to knead it back together to construct wholesome smiles.

yours is the form of communication i've never known,
a presence that haunts me -
as the scent of your perfume lingers at the back of my tongue
as i taste a sweet fruit,
or how your stories speak to me
as my eyes trickle such mundane appliances around me.

you have taken not my heart, nor my soul.
you have extracted from me fragments of my time;
where i find myself caught in the air, mystically
hearing the songs that were stuck in my head when i first met you.

you are the soundtrack to my little death.
you are always right in the corner of my mind, just as i want to see you:
half-baked, smirking, and vulnerable.

To any hulk of an exec chef,  or any sous with little **** syndrome, if you think for a minute you're keeping your fingers after waving them in my face, your mistaken. Go ***** to someone else you say, point taken. I will dessimate you when you forsake me, just as my father did and many boyfriends. I pity your unborn baby, who will inherit your anger and yell like you, and if she's a girl, she will learn to put up with rage like yours. Your very pregnant wife has to shuck oysters just to keep her level eye on you. How smart. You flirt with everything. But even she can't save you from yourself, when you're hopped up on only God knows. Disrespecting the women from your wife's country, your child's lineage. I don't care how many drops run in your own blood, thats not a charge card to say racist **** on top of being an *******. I will always pray that you find your way, make your wife feel safe, para siempre, instead of coming onto women everytime she's not watching. Get right with God, walk straight. I cannot work in a hostile kitchen, I don't do this **** for these tips. When I don't even break a hundred a night, I'm calling it quits, and even when I did, I do not need to be extending my anxiety into a physical reality of shaking hands or jumbled words caught up in my throat. You see, when you raise your voice to me, my brain doesn't think, this man is my boss who can't hit me, my body is too busy bracing, for what muscle memory recalls, following similar stimulis before. If you talk to me like I am an idiot like my father did, if you raise your voice to me like he and all following abusers did, I just might cut you slow with my words, for I am indelibly OVER. THIS. ****. I quit Umberto after three years for his, so now I have a low tolerance. Insisting I can't do MY job, when it's not MY bad, if you're gonna take away my ability to defend myself, in a place I came to empower me, you better hope I feel merciful when you tell me to ***** to someone else when I say I don't appreciate the way you are speaking to us. I don't feel merciful, cuz I can't do this **** anymore. Getting in my face, saying I need to do my ******* job right if I want to take issue, cussing out a woman when I have done or said nothing wrong. I have always owned mistakes, if I said I did perfect this shift, you better back up off of it and stop talking to me like I'm some lying ******* idiot. Consider this my notice.