A Great New Zealand Cook

My missus is an expert, a great ‘New Zealand’ cook,
Everything is ‘All Black’, not quite as it should look,
I went into the kitchen to offer some advice,
She turned and fixed me with a stare her eyes as cold as Ice,
 
Not a single word she said nor was there any need,
I retreated from the kitchen with quite athletic speed,
Brushing aside the charcoal, I ate what she had spoiled
How can you burn sausages when the sausages were boiled?
 
Her steaks are ‘el crematorium,’ I’m really in despair
Oh what I’d give just for once to have one medium rare,
But no it’s black as coal dust and rather tastes of it,
She eats every morsel, doesn’t seem to mind a bit.
 
I don’t know how she does it, I'm really getting thinner
Every night is just the same when we sit down for dinner
She was taught cooking by her mother a woman I despise,
Who used to use real shepherds when she made shepherd’s pies,
 
Everything that she prepared was black and hard as teak,
Gnawing though her Sunday roast usually took a week,
One day my wife’s dad left her ma, couldn’t stand it anymore,
I’d rather eat raw rat he said as he walked through the door,
 
Oh had I but his courage to tell her to her face,
That everything she cooks for me is a terrible disgrace,
But then she’d make me family chef so I have to have a care,
Because when it comes to cooking friend I’m twice as bad as her!
 
 
 
 
Post Script: For those who might not know the 'All Blacks' are the New Zealand sports teams because of their strip colours.