Modernizing traditional food, one dish at a time.
Amazing Jewish Budapest tour, if so sad.
Sending some humor, just to enjoy.
One upon a mid-morn bright
While I sought a brief respite
By eating a sandwich cornbeef on rye
At the door there came a tapping
Or perhaps it was more a flapping
Stopped munching on my beefcorn I
Opened I with trepidation
Fearing to see what apparition
Interrupted my repast
Fearing what, aghast
Perhaps a raven
Such as plagued poor Poe
Nothing lees and nothing mo’
What I saw I fear to tell
A creature as if sent from hell
Who let loose a horrendous cackle
No raven he, but worse debacle
That maven mal, the dreaded grackle
That dotes on sandwiches –Aiiee!
None other than cornbeef on rye
Before I could my prize apocket
Swooped down he upon me like a rocket
Deigning not my humble self
But my sandwich to pilf
Seizing it with iron beak
What cheek, mused I
I felt my soul utterly beaten
As one whose cornbeef another has eaten
For oblivious to all entreaty
Concerning what had been my sandwich meaty
Continued munching, munching
For him naught but a leisurely brunching
The grackle on my cornbeef on rye
Save for one other sound – beside his cackle
Emitted by that amend grackle
As I reached out with a sigh
Reached out to my nevermore rye
While the fiend never batted an eye:
“I also like pastrami on rye”
wow! thank you for sharing!
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