Of what succulent flesh are you scallops?
Coveted alike by chefs and gourmands,
I love you best in a creamy dollop
Of mushrooms with rich sauce à la Normand.
I came to France six months back, and to find
You, decked in an elegant dress of white,
With silken chiffon like a smooth dry wine,
And a feath’ry green hat: a stunning sight.
You dance best, with Calvados, and settle
With grace; flavored pure throughout your slow waltz,
‘Cross my palate, with hints of rose petal.
Each pas a delight, perfect, without faults.
But the waiter shocked me come the great fare,
You have taught me, next time, to want with care.