The legend of the fry up snack
Has just been put to flight
With such a Godalmighty whack,
One thinks: Can this be right?
For when it’s cooked (instead of lard)
In water, ie boiled,
The onion ceases to be charred,
Its flavour isn’t spoiled.
So too the mushroom and the egg
Which poached, instead of fried,
Is spared the fat, of which, I beg,
One’s veins are mortified.
Five minutes in a boiling pot:
A mix of veg and rice,
Brings flavours which can ne’er be got
By an’ amount of spice.
A good-thee-bye as well to grease,
No more its take to toll
Of tastebuds, and to cease
Our drowning in cholesterol.
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