Blog: A deconstructed dish becomes a poem

Bao Down photo by Monica Urrutia

Vancouver, B.C.



Annabelle Lucero

Bubbly, effervescence, intoxicating you with her essence.

Tickle your senses. Breath deeply, let her love trickle down your throat.

Savour the sweetness of the moment, drink it all in, the depth of flavour you will know.

Allow her to satiate your soul with food for thought. Taste the wonders of the world together – visually, spiritually, umami and what not.

Bite your tongue, if you dare feed her lies. She’ll spit them back at you, out of spite, out of mind; excluded from her life.

She can’t palate betrayal, or swallow deceit. Bittersweet hypothetical relationships she finds unappetizing.

Famished for passion and honesty. Spontaneity, trust and integrity missing from the recipe. Side dishes are only fillers, consumption of empty calories.

Bland, or an aversion to reality? Add sauce. Pepper with compliments, sugarcoat, garnish generously, feeding off fantasies.

Its all about presentation.

Ultimately at each diners’ discretion.
Otherwise recommended by Oceanwise?

There’s plenty of fish in the sea.
Swimming with sharks, overfishing, standby while quality supply depletes.

Craving classic dishes with a modern twist. Serving up prose, words braised, a reduction of gastronomic gold, a literary alchemists.

Do you dare taste her bliss?

More than flesh and bones; not another body to exploit.

She’s a full-bodied-mother, sun-kissed-sister, ripe with hope, adorned with peachy undertones.

Aged, smoked, succulent, such a process to preserve her tenderness.

A deconstructed dish, reassembled, subtlety dressed, served on a silver platter…

Send it back to the chef.

You’ve lost your appetite…
so you order a drink instead.

Perhaps you’re too sober?

Her thoughts stray, sometimes somber, eyes jaded, heavy with grief.

Where are you, my love?

She needs to believe you exist, even temporarily, for the slightest relief.

So she smiles again…
… And watches what she eats

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