Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Andouillette: When Gluttony and Poetry Collide

As the entrails bulge
She tends to crackling brown skin
Musk and mustard waft

Is there any foodstuff more simultaneously wonderful and repellent than a sausage filled with nothing but stomach and intestine? I welcome your thoughts. Incidentally, for those of you wondering whether I am spending my days doing nothing but fetishing offal, the poem above was the result of a game played in a car ride two weekends ago in Beaujolais. I may be lame, but at least I wasn't alone.

2 comments:

  1. Suggestion: start taking pictures of everything and add them. I want to see an andouillette photo..

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  2. Thank goodness you remember this masterpiece! I was racking my brain the other day, and couldn't recall your eloquent poetics. And now that I have tasted all that is intestinal deliciousness, my haiku is in the making. I might need some inspiration, though...Another trip to the Texiers?

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