Never challenge an onion to a game of strip poker. ~ D. Bonta
Ashes can substitute for black pepper in a pinch.
Best used fresh, like everything else; and only sparingly.
Carbon: it all breaks down into carbon anyway—
don’t worry, no need to bring out the syrup of ipecac,
expectorate, induce. What’s the most odious thing you’ve had to eat?
Foie gras, shudders my friend the wealthy doctor. Ducks fed
grain by gavage— two to four times a day, the animals
held, their throats expanded under a funnel fitted to a tube.
It’s this wild dilation and overfeeding that renders
king-sized livers: two lobes of mousse-like, buttery consistency.
Leafed out like that upon a plate, punctuated with a dollop of
mustard cream or raspberry confit: could you bear to eat with
nary a twinge of conscience or remorse? It may be that a stew
of carrots, lentils, and potatoes is neither innocent: some hand
pulled tubers out of the soil, peeled or pared and sliced them into
quadrants on the chopping board. You know how dominoes cascade,
rush river-like? Caveat: they fall at the merest touch. Why
sing to pickled things in a minor key? For
the ice sheet in Greenland that has almost all melted, for sea
urchins that, even if they might not be currently endangered, could
very soon wind up on that list: admire their powerful scraping jaws
which I found out are called “Aristotle’s lanterns.” None will be
exempt from ruin and devastation— so quit behaving like
you’ll have a golden ticket out. Heed the poet who points out
zen in the onion’s innermost chamber: stripped clean, empty.
In response to Via Negativa: How to cook.