Food Critic

I've studied food hard ever since

My grandmother made me a blintz.

I've taken notes and traveled far

From KFC to oyster bar,

From Mickey's Dinner in Saint Paul

To toufam served in Senegal.

I could raise a monument

To ev'ry kind of condiment,

And I know the market price

Of every herb and fabled spice.

(And where to buy your sticky rice.)

But my recipes are spurned;

No one seems to be concerned

With my expertise on food –

Frankly, they are getting rude,

Telling me my writing style

Mixes cliché with pure bile.

So unpublished I remain,

My reputation so arcane

My nom de plume I think is "Mud".

I'm lower than a stale Milk Dud.