zumpoems

Here is the sixth of Zumwalt’s revisions to his set of ten poems in his Sassoon Collection.

vi. The imperfect cook

I never ordered something to be perfect,
Though often I’ve asked for
Fiery spicy or without sugar
As a small invasion of mastering cooking.

I never asked that your dishes
Might stand, unburnt, moist and savory
Pointing the way toward
Gastronomical peaks like a sign-post.

Oh yes, I know the way to the heart is easy.
We found the little menu of our passion
That all can share who walk the road of gourmands.
In wild and succulent feasting we stumbled:
Sweet, sour, bitter, salty, spicy senses.

But I’ve grown sated now. And you have lost
Your early-morning freshness of surprise
At creating new dishes. You’ve learned to fear
The gloomy, stricken places in my stomach
And the sometime indigestion that haunts me later.

You made me fat; and I can still return
For seconds, the haven of my lonely pride:
But I am sworn to partake of variety
That blossoms from invention and exploration:
And there shall be no follow-up in a failure;
Since, if we ate like beasts, the plates are clean
And I’ll not share with pets under the table.

You dream endless assemblies of culinary masterpieces
Yet, in my heart, I dread average results
But, should you grow to hate my critiques, I would ask
No mercy from your glare. I’d have you turn from the stove
And look me in the eyes, and laugh, and suggest take-out.

Then I should know, at least, that taste prevailed
Though flavor had died of wounds. And you could leave me
Unfamished in an atmosphere of ongoing appetite.

— zumwalt (2011, revised 2026)

Admin’s Note: This is the sixth piece in Zumwalt’s ten-poem tribute to poet Siegfried Sassoon, The Sassoon Collection, originally written in 2011, recently revised. The Imperfect Cook is based on Sassoon’s The Imperfect Lover. Sassoon’s meditation on romantic compromise (“I never asked you to be perfect…”) is brutally transposed into a culinary critique (“I never ordered something to be perfect…”), concluding with a request for take-out rather than the original’s plea for the lover to laugh and leave.