The Walk-In

While I'm waiting to move into my new home, new kitchen; I dug up some stored away stories of mine. This one is from a particularly frustrating day from some time ago... enjoy!

I stormed from the prep table to the large steel refrigerator. I clasped the handle and pulled back against the suction as a blast of cold air hit my face. I stepped in and shut the door behind me. 

I was alone. .

I leaned against the wall; craving a second of nothing. 

What’s that smell? 

I browsed the shelves - The Epoisses was left unwrapped; or maybe it was the fermenting ducks. 

My attention brought me to a jar of mayonnaise. I stared it down 

“F*** you!” 
Is this where my frustration has brought me? Swearing at a container of whipped eggs. I had multiple directions coming from a variety of mouths and authority. One cook demands you lay parchment down on the sheet tray but the other forbids it. Someone want’s the carrot cut on a bias while the other want’s cubes.

...& being the youngest newbie really doesn't help either. When something goes wrong (a container misplaced or anonymously labeled) I’m the first suspect. It sucks...

I remember a friend of mine describing this feeling as a “roller coaster”. A churning almost queasy feeling in the heart of your stomach that brings you from “ I love my job” to “I hate everything”. It toys with you physically and mentally. By the end of your shift you’ve exhausted yourself. 

What’s that sound? 

My stomach was speaking to me. “Feed Me!”, it cried out.

I leaned over to a jar of pickled green beans. I drew one out as if it were a piece of licorice.  I bit in as the sour juices made my lips pucker. 

I searched for something simpler.

 Cherry tomato’s. 

I picked one from the tub and popped just one in my mouth. 


I turned around and pushed against the door. Walking back to the prep area, slowly but surely returning to reality. 

“Oh, wait.” - I said out loud 

I needed the mayonnaise. 


Le Petite Gourmands

Gourmet Mice Traps by Davide Luciano & Claudia Ficca (http://www.designboom.com/art/gourmet-mouse-traps-by-davide-luciano-and-claudia-ficca-11-05-2013/ )

I don't know about the rest of the country, but mice in Manhattan are real snobs. 


Well, lets retrace this story back a few months ago when I got home from work at 2AM wanting to do nothing more then sleep on my mushy air mattress. I threw my bag down, washed my face and hit the hay. I closed both eyes. 

A moment later I heard a rustling in the garbage bag. I turned over to find nothing. I realized the window had been cracked open so I hoisted myself up and shut it. As I took a few steps back to my bed I noticed the bag shaking. 

I took a few steps back away from my bed and the bag. 

"What the..."

A small shadowy head popped up over the garbage. Not knowing at 2AM what on earth it may be I did a dance of sorts and leapt up on to the swivel chair. Startled by my frantic panicking, the small creature scurried into the bathroom. I quickly slammed the door shut as if a murderer was waiting on the other side. Exaushted, I decided to deal with it in the morning. 

Unfortunately, I found a small opening in the wall behind the toilet and was now facing a major mice infestation. I set out traps but they did nothing. I laced the traps with peanut butter and crackers but that did nothing. Not one night went by that I didn't hear the pitter-patter of thumbtack feet on the wood boards. With my luck, I knew one morning I would wake up to my furry roommates on my chest. I just knew it! 

Although that never happened, something worse did. 

Eventually, the mice started to eat their way through my boxes that I never bothered to unpack (from my move back in August). Enough was enough, I was living with these unwelcome critters and I had to face the box of unknown contents. I slowly opened the cardboard flaps to unveil my cast-iron skillet (I currently don't have a kitchen), a few loose coffee mugs and on top a bag of semolina flour that was clearly ripped open and covered in mice droppings. More so, they dined on my nutmeg and fennel pollen! I was facing no ordinary mice. I was facing epicurean rodents with high culinary demands. 

I enlisted the aid of my father and together we opened Chez Petite Gourmand! A one of kind culinary experience for mice, where they come to dine but there is no dashing! We laced sticky pads with small mounds of nutmeg. That night our party of two ( I anticipated their reservations) did arrive, however, they only left as a party of one. 

My father and I felt accomplished. We were mouse free for a few days. 

Non! They returned. This time they brought their families (kids eat free!). Where were they? What could they be eating? I wondered. 

One box was left. I must have overlooked it. I opened it to find a vessel of cookies that had been torn from the inside out and the outside in. This took "When you give a mouse a cookie" to literal hieghts! Since the discarding of the cookies and the rest of the food I found; I have closed Chez Petite Gourmand. It's reopening is to be determined. 


Under Construction: Myself, Life, & This Site


Hi There, 

My name is Jeremy Salamon. I thought I might re-introduce myself since my absence has been quite lengthy. 

I last left off with a recipe for orange marmalade. I made this back in May in my small but comfortable apartment in Chelsea, NYC that I shared with two other roommates. At the time I was externing (for the Culinary Institute of America) at Prune, a restaurant located on the lower East side of Manhattan. Popular for its sweetbreads and chef, Gabrielle Hamilton. 

Since then, things have changed...

I’m no longer attending the CIA, a decision completely self-made. Although, there was help and words of wisdom given from those much more wiser then I. The choice certainly wasn't easy but it was made. I realized that it was hard for one initial reason. 

When you plan on something for a very long time its extremely difficult to let go of it. The expectation can significantly differ from reality (if that makes sense). Since I was 12 I knew I was going to attend culinary school, I was bred for it. It was engraved in my plan. That being said, plans change. 

Change is inevitable. That used to be a very hard thought for me to process. Not everyone handles change the same way. 

Like dealing with my parents separation. 

My older brother Jordan and I are no longer 10 or 12. Being “adults” and out of the house makes subjects like divorce much less complicated. The idea of my parents no longer together didn't hit me as much as the thought of not sitting down to a table with the whole family again. How will Thanksgiving be celebrated? Will we divide every other year? Who’s house? Who’s table? 

In that way, matter becomes complicated. 

Not to hastily rush through this therapy session but I’m under construction and that means JeremyCooks is as well. 

Now that I’m no longer attending school (for the time being) I have a job. I’m working in Manhattan at a very special restaurant under an incredibly admirable chef. An opportunity that came far in from left field. I also do not have a kitchen of my own anymore. In fact, my current kitchen can only fit one person and does not have the space for a burner or oven. 

So, what’s a food blog if there’s no food? Isn’t that a pity. 

Like I had previously mentioned before, my plans have changed. That also goes the same for my career. No, no, I’m not leaving the culinary industry! If anything I’m about to dive deep into the depths of the food world! Sometimes, I find myself questioning whether or not the restaurant industry is for me and I believe that now is the time to seize the opportunity and explore all my options!

And you’re going to help me. 

JeremyCooks will soon have a brand spanking new look, its also about to get a lot more personal (in relation to social media). More on that later. 

JeremyCooks is not only a place for me to find  myself in this “ food-verse” and reshape my plans but it’s also for you too! JeremyCooks is our adventure into the vast world of food and I hope you’ll join me along the way. 

Cheers, to a new plan! 

- J


 {Marmalade In May}

I have this thing for marmalade. 

Maybe it has something to do with growing up in South Florida, you know - Florida Oranges. Whatever the reason may be, I love the sweet punch of the citrus and the bitter almost sour taste of the rind. It's extremely versatile too on cakes, ice cream, poultry, pork, and of course toast.

Bottom line: you can't go wrong with this stuff.

Blood Oranges are really beautiful right now and extremely delicious. Their a bit more tart than your average orange but they make for a great marma'. 

- J

    Blood Orange 
          3 blood oranges,halved 
            1 Tbsp lemon juice 
            1 cups sugar 
            2 cups water 
            A pinch of Kosher Salt 

 Add the thinly sliced orange halves to a large pot with 2 cups of water. Over high heat 
bring to a boil then add the sugar & salt, stirring until dissolved; reduce to a simmer. Cook for up to 1 hour or until the marmalade is of thick consistency and amber color. Cool & store for up to 2 weeks.


{Monday - Let’s Start Off Simple}

It's the beginning of the week and the last thing I want to do is over think anything! Thankfully, Spring offers us the best in ingredient quality and therefore we can let the food do the talking - all you need is some salt and pepper. 

Here's to starting on the right foot this week. 

- J

Heirloom Cherry Tomato Salad 

1 pt. Heirloom Cherry Tomato 
Good Extra Virgin Olive Oil 
Kosher Salt & Black Pepper 
Basil, Torn

Toss it all together - yeah, that's it...


{ I Have Some Splainin To Do...}

Dearest Reader,

My absence is... unappetizing. 

I know, I left you at the turn of the my 19th birthday! What a cliffhanger!  

So, lets play Catch-up. 

I'm living in an apartment with three roommates in Manhattan. 

Im working/Interning at Prune (restaurant). 

I never know when I'm going to be home do to my hours and as a result the blog has suffered. 

I attended the James Beard Awards (more on that to come). 

I had a mental breakdown as to whether or not to return to culinary school. 

I'm returning to culinary school (in September). 

JeremyCooks is going to featured in a German Textbook. 

Just a fun fact

Work is great! Work is hard... I'm tired, restless, and my feet are in constant pain. 

Welcome to the industry. 

A new look for JC is on the way along with all new recipes, adventures and interviews! 

I'll do my best to be here more often. 


- J 


{19}  Here I am, another year older.

I’m a darker roast, a slightly finer julienne,  and there’s another layer of flavor to my sauce. I like to think that with each year I’ve become a little wiser, a bit more mature and more of me; & 18 was a year I really took some leaps to do so. I graduated high school, appeared on national television, moved to New York, and started culinary school! 
Forget a leap that’s the equivalent of jumping out of plane! 

I’ve survived almost being kidnapped by a cab driver and smelling like fish for a month. I can say I’ve stood on a street corner with Marilyn Monroe, but the gender was questionable. I met  Chefs Thomas Keller and Charlie Palmer. Not to mention I briefly worked in various celebrated restaurants. 

 So, what does 19 have in store for me? What will this coming year make of me? I’m not expecting much, not much at all. I’m where I’ve always wanted to be.  So how does it get any better? Too many questions! 

A few things I know for sure. I’ll be externing and living  in New York City this March at a place called Prune. You might have heard of it or its famous chef - Gabrielle Hamilton, author of the acclaimed memoir Blood, Bones & Butter. After 7 trails and leaving one hell of a path of breadcrumbs all over Manhattan, I finally found the right place.

{  If your looking to be enlightened read her article “ A Rogue Chef  Tells All" , it’s certainly a must read for any aspiring chef - http://www.foodandwine.com/articles/a-rogue-chef-tells-all }

This year I will inevitably cook more, share a great deal of laughs, and continue on this epic journey of mine.... (which I hope you will continue to follow)

& just like 18, I will become a little wiser, a bit stronger and that much more versed in life. 

Here’s to 19! 
Have a delicious day!



{A Trail of Breadcrumbs . . .}
Tales from The Big Apple 

Choosing an externship site was more then just sending a resume and praying that
someone would respond. I sent my resume to 6 different locations in the New York City area, all of whom responded but requested that I trail. What’s a trail? It’s a working interview. To sum it up, I traveled to and from the island of Manhattan 12 times on 2 hour train rides (each way) and to and from Tarrytown 4 times. I worked in 6 different restaurants all of which are highly regarded, Michelin Star rated, New York Times reviewed, and even James Beard bestowed! 

What’s it like to work in a New York City restaurant? Like being a crew member on a pirate ship. It’s chaotic and arduous.  There’s many swift movements and loud words like “CORNER!” that cut through the searing heat. Everywhere I trailed had a basement, which is unusual to a native Floridian. Some had as many as 5 flights of stairs (Where’s an elevator when you need one!). There were hallways that seemed endless and rooms that were dedicated to solely flowers, decorations, and chocolates! 

The service always looked impeccable. One restaurant went as far as to profile their diners in oder to enhance their needs and dinning experience. Others employed young men and women with tattoos that covered them from head to toe. 

Now, where does the 18 year old extern fit amongst all of this. One word: bread. Who better then to cut the crusty loaves. Everywhere I went I left a literal trail of breadcrumbs. I sawed through the tube-shaped filone from Sullivan St. Bakery and I plowed through the large pain de seigle of Balthazar Bakery. I really warmed up to the idea of supporting the local Manhattan bakeries. 

The bread kept me in a corner with a panoramic view of each kitchen.  I would slice brioche buns and watch as the garde manger carefully picked out the perfect piece of chervil with a pair of tweezers. In another kitchen I watched as braised pork belly was shoved under the broiler letting the skin explode into a chewy caramel layer! Some places let me hang over the grill flipping lamb burgers or pork chops; while others kept me far away from such intimacy with the heat. 

Certain restaurants had the most confusing levels of hierarchy. When I was told to deliver a box to the sous chef, I did so. To my surprise the sous whom I handed the package to wasn’t the correct guy. It took 3 more sous chefs to find the right one!  

The New York City food scene can be demanding and intimidating (to say the least). However, that doesn't mean you or I don't have what it takes to join “the big leagues”. Sure its scary knowing that you have to please thousands of New York hipsters, Instagramer’s, and posh residents but if you find the right place then it certainly takes some of that weight off your shoulders. 

For anyone seeking an externship, here’s my advice: go leave a trail of breadcrumbs. Even if the restaurant isn’t for you, who knows, you might wind up making a great impression and a one of a kind connection. Just make sure you clean up after yourself, they’ll appreciate that. 

- J


           jeremyCooks Favorite Reads of 2012 

Fresh/ Tyler Florence 

A stunning book full of photos that spark the imagination.  Chef Florence has produced a must have for any serious cook.  Recipes range in complexity - but don't let the impeccable food photography fool you. The book is divided based on ingredients such as apples, beets, duck, and octopus. 
The Kitchen Diaries/ Nigel Slater 

Ok, I’ve cheated here. This is one of my absolute favorite cookbooks! I’ve had it in my collection since its publication in ’05. However, since its popularity has grown it has now been reprinted. It's a lovely earthy book that takes the reader on a year long journey with one of Britain's most cherished food writers. Recipes include vegetable curry, pumpkin soup, and double ginger cake. I urge you to go get this and other works from Mr.Slater!

A Girl and Her Pig/ April Bloomfield 

Don’t be intimidated by the image of Chef April Bloomfield with a dead pig slung over her shoulder. Although some of the ingredients might be unfamiliar to non-epicures, this book offers comfort food like roast chicken, duck confit and pea soup. Be sure try her recipe for sheep's milk ricotta gnudi and the traditional meringue filled english dessert, eton mess.

The Canal House Cooks Everyday/ Hamilton & Hirsheimer

Its big, it's red, and full of simple inviting recipes! Based off the popular blog "Canal House Cooks Lunch", this piece of work will last in your cookbook collection for generations. Hamilton & Hirsheimer both come from food publication backgrounds lending there recipes a certain detail to perfection. Each dish sync's accordingly with the seasons and features ingredients fresh from the market. 


'Tis The Season

Dear Journal, 

Winter is here and the campus on weekends seems more and more desolate. The air is cold and thin, with a 30% chance of snow. 

I recently discovered that I enjoy doing laundry in the winter, because its warm in there and it smells of orange/ allspice scented dryer sheets. 
My first semester is over! A milestone to CIA students. This means meat fabrication begins next week, business management and writing. The plus side: I don’t have to wake up at 5 in the morning on Thursdays and Friday’s (at least for now). 

The holiay’s are upon us and school has taken to the christmas spirit. It looks a little like this... 

(sorry, couldn’t help myself) 

Tonights Dinner: Ricotta Crostini with Proscuitto, Buttered Mushrooms & Chives 

Well, its time to wrap this up and go tend to my laundry, where its nice and warm. 




Wizards Make Great French Toast

“Welcome to Hogwarts!” she shouted as the door’s swung open.

Well, at least that’s what I imagined hearing. Unfortunately, I’m not attending school for "witchcraft and wizardry" but if you do consider cookery a form of magical craft then by all means... Although similarly to the mythical school CIA has its giant snakes to battle and extravagant buffets to tackle. 

Within the last 2 months I’ve managed to write for the school paper, start a coffee club, be a group leader and explore potential externship sites. Try that on for size Mr. Potter! (Okay, enough with the references!) All of this is a handful, especially while your trying to sculpt a potato into a 7 sided football (a tourne). In addition, trying to be a college student isn’t exactly the easiest recipe to conquer. However, I’m not complaining. Each day brings something completely new to my attention. 

To compensate for the madness I enjoy sitting back and watching the leaves fall from their branches or the ripples in the Hudson as a cargo boat passes bye. In all the heat and frenzy that happens within the schools walls so much “beautiful nothing” lays on the outside; which brings me to the Rhinebeck Famers Market. 

One of the ways I like to relax here has been to pick out seasonal produce at the market on Sundays. Rhinebeck is a pleasant and historical little town that will instantly remind you of the perfect soap opera setting. The town where everyone knows you, even if you don’t know them. The market is held in a small parking lot that is quaint but magically transformed into an outdoor affair. Crates are full of seasonal produce, goat cheese is readily available  (a good sign), and fresh foie gras if your lucky. There’s also flowers, bread, oils and honey! This past weekend they offered hot apple cider with doughnuts and provided live folk music. 

On my last trip, I decided to bring home ingredients to make pumpkin french toast. I don't know what it is lately but I've been craving breakfast for dinner. Since the pumpkins were calling my name and the Lacinato Kale caught my eye...I conjured up a seasonal breakfast (for dinner) in the kitchen of my dorm. 

Here's a wonderful recipe, for my wonderfully amazing readers who have been patiently awaiting for me to finally post something new! 

Keep on Cooking, 


Spiced Pumpkin French Toast with Lacinato Kale Chips
 Serves 4-5 

1 small pumpkin or 1 8 oz can pumpkin puree
6 eggs 
1 tsp cinnamon 
1/2 tsp nutmeg 
1/2 tsp allspice 
pinch of kosher salt 
1/2 cup half & half 
3 tablespoons honey 
8-10 (1 inch) slices of brioche or challah 
6 tablespoons unsalted butter 

1 cup creme friache 
2 tbsp powdered sugar 

Honey, for garnish 
Pumpkin seeds, toasted & unsalted (optional)

Pre-heat the oven to 450 degrees. 

Cut the pumpkin in half, scoop out the seeds and quarter each half. Place the pumpkin flesh side up on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Roast in the oven for 40-45 minutes until tender. Let cool completely. Remove cooked flesh from skin. 

In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, spices, salt, half & half, honey. Add in the pumpkin and beat. This also works well with an immersion blender or potato masher. 

Melt 1 tablespoon of butter in a large cast iron skillet over medium-high heat. Working in batches of 2, dredge slices in the the egg batter. Cook each slice 2-3 minutes on each side. Drain on a paper towel. 

Plate up the French toast with a dollop of creme fraiche, a generous drizzle of honey, and a few toasted pumpkin seeds. 

Baked Kale Chips 

There's really nothing to this crunchy delicacy. Lacinato Kale is a superb cooking green that really shines when prepared simply. 

Pre-heat the oven to 300

1) Tear the leaves from 2 bunches of Lacinato Kale
2) Toss with a few tablespoons olive oil 
3) Lay leaves out flat on a baking sheet 
4) Place in the oven and let crisp up  for 20-25 minutes 
5) Sprinkle with sea salt and serve 


Heirloom of the month: James Naquin

   Over the course of the past 3 years I have befriended some of the most unique and wonderful individuals. They might be  chefs, farmers, writers or even students. It's been an honor and privilege to get to know each one of them because they truly inspire me. It would be selfish to keep these   extraordinary friends all to my self so I decided to create a new feature here on JC called "Heirloom of the Month". An heirloom (just like the tomato) is someone or something that is original and one of a kind. Each month I will ask a different friend that inspires me to write a guest post about someone that has inspired them to cook, eat, grow, write or learn.

   This month’s Heirloom is a unique crafter of meats. The knowledge of a well-trained butcher and careful artisan link together to fuel the tradition known as charcuterie. This complex skill is making its debut comeback in various restaurants across the country. I’m lucky enough to know one of the noteworthy masters brining sausages, cured meats, and wurst back to the table. I first met Chef James Naquin while in Chapel Hill, North Carolina when he was a sous-chef at the acclaimed Watts Grocery. A few years later I unexpectedly ran into him at Guglhupf cafe/bakery while sipping coffee with a previous Heirloom, Dorette Snover. He informed me that he was responsible for the wonderful duck proscuitto, bratwurst and other meats (don’t forget the pickled vegetables) on the wurstplate (charcuterie platter). Learning about James’s journey proved that the kitchen can lead you in any direction no matter what your “knackwurst” may be.

Thanks James, and Keep on Cooking!!!

The ideal, ideal.......

 My name is James Naquin, and my current occupation began as a simple request from a chef I worked with at a previous restaurant.  He wanted to know if I would make country sausage and bratwurst for the restaurant he was running.  After he guaranteed I wouldn’t have to work on the line cooking for dinner service, I decided to give it a shot.  I quickly realized, however, that to utilize all of the meat trim that was being butchered for the lunch and dinner menus, I would quickly need to expand my repertoire beyond his initial request.  Most of what I have learned has been done through trial and error. 


The Great Food Truck Race

 “Where?” I found myself blurting out into the receiver,“ Fayetteville, Arkansas, the most northwestern corner of the state” said the man on the other end of the line. I stared around the restaurant waiting to catch the prankster hiding in the corner. I was working in Brule Bistro when I had received a phone call from a producer of “The Great Food Truck Race” on Food Network. I knew of the show and that it was hosted by Tyler Florence. On an ordinary weekday afternoon I was being asked to judge a culinary reality/competition show. Not to sound boastful, but I’ve been contacted by the network before and it wasn’t the first time I thought it a practical joke. “ This was the only way I could track you down” he admitted apologetically. I told him “ I’ll give it some thought and call you back”.


From August 18th, 2012

      I’m writing this post with a pillow on my lap and the computer comfortably resting on top. Dad and I are driving in my small Toyota on I-95 up the East coast. We’re on the long and winding road to the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, NY. Yes, its finally here! It only took 9 years since the time I decided I wanted to be in this profession and go to this school. The idea of beginning a new chapter is always daunting but there’s a certain thrill, throwing caution to the wind! Up to this very point in my life I’ve had a plan. I knew where I was going and I always saw the destination coming. Even in my day to day activities I needed to see the end. Every time I got my hands on a new book the first thing I did was read the last page (yeah, a real party pooper). As I write my own book both literally and metaphorically, I don’t want to know how  I’ll live “happily ever after”. I don’t want to see what comes next. I want to be surprised (good or bad). Looking at recipes, you see how to make whats in front of you. If I can teach you (the reader) anything its that life is not a recipe. Nothing and no one will tell you how to make it. Isn't that what makes life so unpredictable though? If we knew what was hidden in every treasure chest, if we saw the storms headed our way; what would we learn? My point here is to measure life in moments, not in tablespoons or cups. Its great to see the big picture but take it slow and savor each passing second.

The Culinary Institute of America (CIA) in Hyde Park, NY

From now on JeremyCooks will be writing to you from New York & beyond! I’ll have new adventures, recipes, and stories to share. I hope you’ll join me in writing the next chapter.

...And they all lived happily ever after............

Keep on Cooking,



Butchered Love: A JeremyCooks Fairy Tale. Part 2

Illustration by Jeremy Salamon

 Food is not only something we create or eat but it is a way to share stories. When  I was a little thing, my parents used to read me bed time stories. Some from books and others made up from their minds. The sense of adventure, thrill, mystery, triumphant  love, and morals ensured great dreams. In the story below I share those theme’s, reminding others that good can still prevail even in our darkest hours. Fairly tales are not just for bedtime anymore but to be served at the table as well.

................The suitors of Tulia's were being fashioned into ground meat. He stumbled back onto himself in disbelief. The butcher appeared at the table hacking away. He sang ....

" Like good love, meat is divine. 
Like good meat, love is hard to find.        
"But no daughter of mine will ever marry
 nor wary of  loves true crimes. 
But why should such meat go to waste? 
Because it's taste is that of fresh love, red as a rose, 
beating with blood,and always butchered with love."

    Tullia's suitors were being crafted into a variety of sausages, pâtés, and cured meats by a large grinder. It was death by charcuterie! Like a coward, Niccolo started for the woods when suddenly it had occurred to him that he must fight for his one true love, Tullia. Back at the butchers home Niccolo climbed the balcony to her room. He quietly knocked on her door. Surprised to find him there, Tullia immediately questioned his presence.
"But you must believe me my sweet Tulip" cried Niccolo. After explaining what he had just witnessed.
" We cannot be together if you make such false accusations of my father" said Tullia.
" If you don't believe me then take a look for yourself".
" My father has forbid me from entering his shop after hours"
" If you love me you will look" said Niccolo.
 For the first time Tullia learned to truly love and trust someone other then her father. She decided that her love for Niccolo was undeniably genuine and so she tiptoed her way down the steps to her fathers shop. She peered through the window and with such disbelief at the such a sight cried out for her father. She burst through the door with the stench of human flesh penetrating her senses. Her fathers crimes had made sense to her now. The disappearance of her suitors, the tale about the witch in the forest and her fathers lost love had merged together like a good sausage.  The thought of it all had overwhelmed poor Tullia and she grew faint. The butcher turned around to find the astonished Tullia falling into his human "mix". Niccolo (who stood just behind her) sprang to her rescue but fell to his doomed fate alongside his one true love.  It all had happened so quick that the butcher suddenly dropped to the floor and began to weep the sudden loss of his daughter. The butcher had no time to waste and must now clean up the mess he had created before the towns people noticed Tullia and Niccolo's absence.
    In the morning the shop had been empty, it was if nothing had occurred the night before. Out in the street a large table had been constructed  which was topped with bowls of raw meat, mead and crusty bread. The residents of Gorgewick were confused because they were used to such lavish preparations. They converged to the table to enjoy the butchers display anyways. Together they smeared the bread with raw meat and took just one bite. As they ate something occurred within the minds and stomachs of the towns people. Passion had surged through their bones and the thought of love filled them up quicker then the meat itself. Someone called out " this is the loveliest meat I have ever tasted, praise the butcher of Gorgewick for such a simple approach to display his work!". A woman had cried out" it's almost as sweet as a tulip". Little did they know where the  loveliest of meats had come from.   
   The butcher sat in his home alone. He ate the meat and drank his tears, for this batch had been the worse he had ever tasted and the last he would ever make. This was because Tullia and Niccolo had achieved what the butcher tried so hard to prevent, true love. By trying so hard to hinder the past he lost the only other love of his life. Tullia and Nicollo were now intertwined, together at last, and happily ever after.

Keep on Cooking!!!