Riddonkulous

A whisk wielding stowaway under a toque, I treat the fine arts as more than a joke. While cousins find comfort in dumpsters and drains, I’m pairing the fennel with saffron and grains. A tug on the tresses, a puppeteer’s hand, I’m the smallest sensation in all of the land. Though critics may sneer at my whiskers and tail, My sauce is a triumph that shall not fail.