Shakespearean Foodisms

It’s a Guy Thing with Barry Fig

Dudes. Listen there’s the coolest thing I figured out. Well I didn’t really figure it all out myself because foodvox was there but I was there too and even though she actually did the thing I figure I was a part of it. If you know what I mean. It’s gotta be my influence.

It’s Shakespearean foodisms, man.

Look – here’s the one foodvox wrote the other day when someone asked her about whether she wanted pulp in her orange juice:

To pulp, or not to pulp, that is the Question:
Whether ’tis Nobler in the minde to suffer
The Tummy Aches and Growlings of outragious Undigested Fruit Chunks,
Or to take Armes against a Sea of Acidulous Juices,
And by opposing end them: to swallow, to drink
No more; and by use of a good cheesecloth and strainer, to say we end
The Heart-Burn, and the thousand Naturall Fartings
That Flesh is heyre too? ‘Tis a consummation
Deuoutly to be wish’d. To swallow to drink,
To taste, perchance to digest; I, there’s the rub,
For in that swallow of orange chunk, what dreams may come,
When we haue tossed off this entire glassful,
Must giue vs pawse. There’s the endless chewing of chunk stuck in tooth
That makes Calamity of so long life:
For who would beare the Muffins and Scones of time,
The Chefs wrong, the poore mans Contumely,
The pangs of dispriz’d Cooking, the Waiters delay,
The insolence of the Maitre’d’, and the unsated hunger
That patient merit of the Foodie takes,
When he himselfe might his Quietus make
With a strained orange juice?

It’s like, you know, the answers to anything can be found in the things this dude wrote, dudes. It’s like, you know – playing a Beatles song backwards. Awesome. Awe-f’ing-some.

Check it out. Here’s one I wrote:

The quality of porkfat is not strain’d,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the hot pan beneath: it is twice stirred;
It stirs him that gives and him that takes:
‘Tis meatyest in the meatyest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His scepter shows the fat of immediate frying,
The attribute to butter and majesty,
Wherein doth saute the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy, and evoo, is above this sceptered fry-up,
It is enthroned in the hearts of chefs,
It is an attribute to Top Chef himself.

Merchant of Venice, dudes. Mer Chant of Venice. Old Will rocks. And ya gotta admit he knows his food.

Gotta run. More of these to do. If you happen to do one yourself, let me know guys. Share it with me. Just post it here.

So much to do – so little time.
Ciao.

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2 thoughts on “Shakespearean Foodisms

  1. If iambic pentameter be the food of rhythm, march on!

    History is more than the fate of kings, of course, if served and savored properly. I love history raw or well-done, but even so I’ve always preferred well-pulped fiction to academically fatted kings.

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