Fancy Food Frustrations

I clock in at dawn, with my apron tied with pride,
But these posh folks just can’t be satisfied.
They crave tiny toast served with gold flakes gleaming,
For their caviar and lobster, am I dreaming.

They demand foie gras with a side of filet mignon,
And a glass of champagne, just to carry on.
I'm just a simple cook, making ends meet,
But these fancy orders have me stomping my feet.

They want their truffles shaved thin, like a flake,
And their organic greens, without not the slightest mistake.
I’ve spent hours in the kitchen, crafting flavours divine,
But all they do is complain and whine, in their world that's fine.

They want their soufflés to rise to perfection,
With imported vanilla, a flawless confection.
Their tea must be brewed from the rarest leaves,
Served in china cups, placed just so, if you please.

They fancy dishes looking like works of art,
Every garnish in place, not a piece apart.
I’m just a humble chef, trying to do my best,
But their posh ideas put me to the test.

They crave puddings with berries picked at dawn,
And fresh honey drizzled on their food porn.
I've toiled all day, in this high-class lair,
This kind of job is so hard to bear

They want their dishes like works of art,
Every garnish in place, not a piece apart.
I’m just a humble chef, trying to do my best,
But their posh ideas put me to the test.

They crave dessert with berries I picked at dawn,
And fresh honey drizzled on their food porn.
I've toiled all day, in this high-class lair,
Doing this job is so hard to bear

a DumDave production June 2024