An ode to the spring onion

As winter’s vicious bite decays
and snow begins to thaw.
The supermarkets are abound
with springtime fare once more.

From yams to swedes to Brussels sprouts,
Ma Nature does provide.
Yet while we relish most of them,
spring onion’s brushed aside.

Found limply tangled in the fridge
down on the produce aisle.
Now is the time these flaccid tubes
came roaring back in style.

They can be cooked or eaten raw
or grilled or baked or fried.
They’re even found in packet soups,
abhorrently freeze-dried.

The flavour packs a decent punch,
(both sweet and spice in one).
The whisky of the produce world
(though granted, far less fun).

The bottom has a juicy bite,
the top a subtle zing.
Considering they’re grown in dirt
that’s quite a wondrous thing.

But we’re not totally naive,
we’ll call a spade a spade.
When sat alongside other veg,
Their sheen begins to fade.

They lack the artichoke’s va-room
and the avo’s vigour.
Compared to the asparagus,
they’re a right wee minger.

An anorexic leek of sorts,
they’re not hip like ‘zoodles’.
Though in our eyes those limp green strands,
don’t have shit on noodles.

So, no, they’re not the sexiest,
on that we can agree.
Not when their manky-ass white roots
look like an STD.

But put aesthetics to one side,
just take the whole thing in.
And we think that you may agree:
spring onion for the win.

As if Tom Hanks were a veggie:
They’re mild, sweet and refined.
But when they find the perfect role?
Well bitch, they’ll blow your mind.

Gastronomy


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