entrée
triple pan-fried and rolled watermelon chutney
teased on softly burnt broccolini shards
elegantly-bruised porpoise meatballs
served on a hefty bed of emasculated bronze cous-cous helmets
thinly sliced, slow-cooked equine cheeks
tossed on whisked Belgium pom-pom shells
chronically bovine citrus, with locally sourced pindan
and a quiff of breast milk butter
pine-cone and sand-bundy soup
wrestled with decaffeinated water-cress
served on smashed rye-bread crust
all bellowing with conglomerates
of organic semi-quaver sleeves
mains
bent rusty bolts, decisively mellowed in brine
and infused with cloudy red-gum bark
each double-quadruply baked
in toffee-apple cheese
finger-fed stone-baked dugong sandwiches
flirting on a fennel biscuit linguine
pickled unwashed masses, doused with
a soulful retrograde willy-wagtail egg jus
caramelised goat ball crackers, peppered with disco sweat
accompanied by 12 bar cooch and 5 spice buffalo wafers
sun-dried mutton lollypops on a mattress
of softly-spoken polenta and lemon-grass crisps
dessert
bullied squid-ink parcels
served with dirt-rich ice-cream colons
or baked beans on toast