‘Praise Poem for Yorkshire Puddings’
Light brown moon in a gravy sky
Round O of delight on a big white plate
Floppy as a vest if you get ’em out early
Hard as a wall if you get ’em out late
Alchemy of eggs and milk and flour
Aesthetically gorgeous in a kitchen full of steam
Cultural symbol with enduring power,
Perfect as a sunset, elusive as a dream
All in the wrist to get air in the batter
As the shattered eggshells lie crushed like martyrs
As it waits to grace your Sunday platter
‘The Yorkshire Pudding is the queen of starters!’
