Black beans and onions

Black beans! And onions!

Black beans! And onions!

I have a frying pan and those two ingredients,

A rapeseed oil bottle brimming with its contents,

Salt and black pepper and a spatulaaaaa,

Plus a knife as sharp as the fang of Draculaaaa!

Chip-chap-chop makes the onions small,

But not so much you can’t see them at all.

The kitchen becomes my private pool,

The onions make me always a fool.

Drain the beans and wash them like a sweet baby,

Gently and well, with warm water maybe.

Sauté the onions in the heat of a dragon,

High time for me to get on the dragon bandwagon.

Stir with the beans and give the saltiest season,

Where they live, sweet water is treason!

Sprinkle enough pepper to give them coal lung,

So that you can taste it in the air on your tongue.

Make them dance with the spatulaic grace,

Put them on a plate and stuff your face.

If you burnt your tongue, points for the zeal,

And good luck tasting the rest of the meal.