Slow Chef

So she called him at the bar, to enquire if he’d be far

Away. He’d said he’d ordered dinner 45 minutes ago.

“Yes darl,” he said. “I’m sorry. But there’s no reason to worry

“This new chef is bloody good you know, but also bloody slow.”

“I would love to be home sooner, I’ll just have one final schooner.

“And I’m sure she’ll all be ready by the time the beer is done.

He ended his apology, “it’s worth the wait for quality.

“I’ll be home as soon as possible. Goodbye darl, love you hun.”

Then he hung up and returned to his friends and beer well-earned.

And he gave his mates a wink for their legitimate delay.

For this new bloke in the kitchen, who had wives and girlfriends bitchin’

Had been hired to be their refuge, to protect them from a spray.

‘Twas the club board who proposed it, and no logic could oppose it.

When the Chinese restaurant had the chance to draft a brand new cook.

They’d need someone good with rices, and a deft hand with the spices.

But the secret to the recipe - a man who’s time he took.

From the moment they had hatched it, as a plan you could not match it

And the search went wide and far to find the man who’d fit the bill.

Till at last they found the master, who could cook but no more faster

Than an hour or more per meal, a man of slow, deliberate skill.

Now the club is on a winner, doubly so ‘cause not just dinner

Is available to all who have cuisine that is divine.

But the taps are also flowing as the menfolk got to knowing

That an order placed at 7 would be picked up well past 9.

And instead of mere survival, well the club is in revival.

Clocking profits from the round or four the men shout ‘fore they go.

Yet they still feign feeling terrible, stumbling home with chicken vegetable

“I’m sorry I’m so bloody late, the chef is bloody slow!”