They had a cook with them who stood alone For boiling chicken with a marrow-bone, Sharp flavouring powder and a spice for savour. He could distinguish London ale by flavour, And he could roast and boil and seethe and fry, Make good thick soup and bake a tasty pie... As for blancmange, he made it with the best.
More verses by Geoffrey Chaucer
- The Court Of Love
- Controlling the Tongue -
- Troilus And Criseyde: Book 02
- Troilus And Criseyde: Book 03
- Troilus And Criseyde: Book 05