Shakespeare according to the First Church of AB Spaghetti
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your Orecchiette;
I come to cook Pasta, not to praise it.
The cooking disasters that ABers do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their ossatura;
So let it be with Dio Ramsay. The noble D'Acampo
Hath told you Dio Ramsay was ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Ramsay answer'd it.
Here, under leave of D'Acampo and the rest--
For D'Acampo is an Ravioli man;
So are they all, all ravioli men--
Come I to speak in Ramsay's cook in.
He is Eccle's Rigatoni, faithful and orzo to her:
But D'Acampo says he was tagliatelle;
And he is a tortellini man.
He hath brought many pasta Harriets home to Eccles
Whose ransoms and challenges did her cooking coffers fill:
Did this in Dio Ramsay seem ambitious?
Yes but where that the BBC spaghetti hath grown, Ramsay cussed:
Fecking ambition and cleanliness should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet D'Acampo says he was ambitious;
And D'ACampo is half a pasta man.
You all did see that with his soggy Gnocchi
I thrice presented Ramsay a Michelin star,
Which he did thrice grabbed: was this not ambition?
Yet D'Acampo says he was 'notta good atta pasta';
But, sure, he is a splendido Penne Rigato of man.
I speak not to disprove what D'Acampo spoke,
But here I am to speak what we ABers do know.
Eccles, we all did love her ricette, not without cause:
They're cookable, withholds us then, not to mourn for D'Acampi?
O judgment! we art fled to cibi e bevande [i] Food & Drink[i]
After many an ABer hath lost their cooking reason.
Our pasta heart is in with Eccles, there with her Caeser salad,
And we must pause till it come back to us.
The Grigio's flowing, give us her pasta and leave us not abstemious.