Three times the spoon with oil from Lucca crown,
And once with vinegar procured from town.
True flavour needs it, and your poet begs
The pounded yellow of two well-boiled eggs;
Let onion atoms lurk within the bowl,
And, scarce suspected, animate the whole.
And, lastly, on the flavoured compound toss
A magic teaspoon of anchovy sauce.
Then though green turtle fail, though venison's tough,
And ham and turkey are not boiled enough,