is a very bad pun on amuse-gueule, a free small dish sent out by the chef to awaken the diner’s palate before a posh meal. The concept of amuse-gueule is also unfairly perceived as slightly naughty because gueule is another word for “gob”. It’s been hyper-corrected to amuse-bouche in Western restaurants. This is hilarious because it’s still a filthy concept if your brain wants to interrogate the translation (is gob-amuser so much worse than mouth-amuser?). Despite the renaming, the unpredictable and inherently sensual nature of the amuse-gueule shines through. From an elaborate imitation of caviar that turns out to be mushroom essence to just a blob of wasabi, I’ve had more amuses than hot dinners. Which makes sense, because they’re little touches of ideas. A good poem is a little touch of a big idea. The following are poems intended to enliven the palate, satiate the mind, and make you feel like you’ve been on a weird-ass culinary journey. Please dig in!