|No need to tell these fellas, It's a cookbook! |
They'll catch on.
Further, as our palettes sophisticate (you heard it here first) (unless you teach composition in which case no aberration of the language is new under the buzzing neon lights), the poor qua foodstuff come in an impressive variety of sizes, ages, shapes and--here's the real bonus for the cuisine adventurous--nationalities.
Whether you have a taste for that British classic Shepherd's Pie or Shepherd's Pie Surprise which substitutes Greek shepherds for the more standard Scottish lad; the ever-reliable General Tso's chicken (China's a big country; lotta poor offering a diversity of southern-to-almost Mongolian tastes); or want to cheat on your diet with French fries*, the poor make a failproof ingredient full of animo acids and despair.
*A simple fried French person is always tasty with a generous sprinkling of salt and dipped in ketchup--or gravy, to use our Canadian friends' recipes for bliss. You'll want to avoid frying Gerard Depardieu unless you are prepared for a grease spatter. The great thing about French fries these days is colonial payback. There are so many interesting poor people mingling in the country of ooo la la!, French fries can take on an Arabic, Algerian or even Vietnamese tang!
Here in America, the poor can be--can be? are being!--ground down for our beloved hamburgers--every minute of every day. Just glance at any deli menu to see the varieties offered, from grass fed-Native American to tough Appalachian whites to the inner city rhythms of poor people of all sorts of hues.
And no longer do we have to travel south of the border to enjoy the vibrant salsa of Mexican and central American poor people. They are here and there and everywhere, underpaid, over-worked and ripe for the picking. Boo, immigration, for trying to rid us of a reliable foodstuff.
The substitution is pretty much 1:1, 1 cup of poor person for 1 cup of meat, nutmeat or soy product. Let your imagination run wild! I know I have!