A January Chore with Seville Oranges
In the kitchen, oh what a sight,
A mountain of oranges, oh what a fright!
Seville oranges, bright and bold,
With zest so sour, they’re a sight to behold.
January’s here, the chores must commence,
But these oranges, they make little sense!
They’re not for snacking, oh no, not at all,
They’re destined for marmalade, a sticky sweet ball.
I grab a knife, feeling quite brave,
As I slice through the citrus, it’s a flavour wave!
The juice squirts out, like a citrusy spray,
Watch out, dear apron, don’t get in the fray!
I boil and I bubble, with sugar galore,
While the oranges dance, oh what a chore!
They whirl in the pot, a zesty ballet,
Making me giggle as I stir away.
But wait! What’s this? A zesty surprise,
A rogue orange slice jumps right for my eyes!
It rolls off the counter, but no, not on the floor,
It lands in the pot, what a citrus uproar!
With a splash and a splatter, it joins the mix,
I chuckle and think, “Oh, what a fix!”
So here’s to January, with its orange delight,
Cooking’s a circus, but oh, what a sight!
As the marmalade thickens, I can’t help but grin,
For in this orange mountain, I’m bound to win!
So raise a toast, to the citrusy cheer,
In the kitchen of chaos, I’ve conquered my fear!
Comentarios