Ana found this recipe poem about a salad in an anthology of poetry. She likes it because it rhymes, but not because it sounds like something she would like to eat, and never mind her being an extraterrestrial. Her husband was leery of "anchovy sauce" himself. He was able, however, to forestall his wife's worries about the "dying anchorite."
If anyone would care to try this poetic salad recipe and report back to us, we can get word to Ana--if it's favorable!
Recipe for a Salad
To make this condiment, your poet begs
The pounded yellow of two hard-boiled eggs;
Two boiled potatoes, passed through kitchen-sieve,
Smoothness and softness to the salad give;
Let onion atoms lurk within the bowl,
And, half-suspected, animate the whole.
Of mordant mustard add a single spoon,
Distrust the condiment that bites so soon;
But deem it not, thou man of herbs, a fault,
To add a double quantity of salt.
And, lastly, o'er the flavored compound toss
A magic soup-spoon of anchovy sauce.
Oh, green and glorious! Oh, herbaceous treat!
'T would tempt the dying anchorite to eat;
Back to the world he'd turn his fleeting soul,
And plunge his fingers in the salad bowl!
Serenely full, the epicure would say,
Fate can not harm me, I have dined to-day!
Sydney Smith (1771-1845)
See more of Ana's favorite recipes in the right column, under the photo of cranberry-apple pie, including:
Another strange salad (but not as strange as the one above)
Salads go well with soups!
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