The Russet, Hackney Downs
Hackney Downs Studios
0203 095 9731
by Stephen Fry-Up
I met a traveller from an organic land
Who said: Two vast and yolky eggs of duck
Stand on a crumpet. Near them, on the plate,
Half dunked, a buttered liquid lies, whose flow,
And acidic nip – a smear of Sauce Hollande –
Tell that its maker well those passions read
Which yet survive, ladled on these flawless things,
The hand that sourced them and the heart that fed.
And from the crumpet these words I hear:
“My name is new season Asparagus, king of kings.
Look on my stalks, ye Hungry, and devour!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the crumbs
Of that colossal Brek, boundless and fair
The lone and level Downs stretch far away.