24 Poems: “The Dinner Party”

 

The Irish Stewing

 

In France it’s Boeuf Bourgignon

In Hungary it’s Goulash so hearty

And Belgium, Carbonnade a la Flamande

But in Ireland, it’s just stew, still hearty

 

One simmered in wine

The other a paprika smother

The other in golden beer

But this is a Guinness smother

 

Sadly, the alcohol dissipates as it simmers

Yet, the deep robust flavor remains

The beef will be fork-tender

And there likely will be no remains

 

The waxy potatoes

and sweetness of parsnips and carrots

I ne’er forget the deglazing

This is grand exalted my guest of carrot

 

There were looks of concern

So many stomachs full

Did I serve too much

But my confidence is full

 

DeaBeePea  6-27-20