I want to say up front that I am not on any psychiatric medications, yet, though my wife thinks I need something. It’s that whole fine line between genius and insanity phenomenon playing itself out, maybe? Any who, I do believe that food speaks to the very core of what makes us humans. We emotionalize it, humanize it, demonize it, spiritualize it, romanticize it, psychoanalyze it and in so many ways impute to it far more than our ancestors did.

Our forebearers ate to survive only and now at the other end of the spectrum food, for some, is the center of life itself! I am merely advocating a somewhat balanced middle ground where one can derive pleasure, humor, satiety, from finely prepared dishes that elevate the dining experience. Beyond that, a psychiatric consult could be in order.

As you read on you will encounter puns, spoofs, prose and any other literary device I could employ. I am not sure what I had more fun doing, experimenting with and tweaking the recipes or cooking up these poems, you decide. Also, at the back of the book I attempt to thank absolutely everyone that I could think of that I took poetic license with. Thank you all for your support.