Ted Demopoulos    Demopoulos Associates
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This inspirational tale of ethnic food comes from the soon to be published “Stuff I didn’t want to eat but did” by Ted Demopoulos, author, speaker, and poet.

Last Week-end when I was out,
I met a man named Philbert Fout.
He was eating Sauerkraut, piled up high upon a trout.

 He said “won’t you try some Sauerkraut??? I often eat it when I’m out.”

“Oh, no thank you Philbert Fout, I do not like Sauerkraut.
I never eat it - not even when out,
I do not like it - there is no doubt.
But I thank you Philbert Fout, I thank you for offering me your sauerkraut.”

 Philbert Fout, he looked confused.
And when his confusion was diffused,
He looked, perhaps a bit amused!!

 “So, you say, you don’t like `Kraut?
You don’t know what it’s about!
It is wonderful with smoked trout!
A festive meal when you are out!
The French consider it Cuisine of Haut!
I love to shovel it down my snout!
Kings of old took it for gout!
Try some, try some sauerkraut,
You will LOVE it have nooooo doubt!!”

 “No thank you Senior Fout,
I have no need for sauerkraut.
I need not know what it's all about.
I do not like it in my snout”

Philbert Fout wiggled his beak.
And he began to start to speak.
He spoke, he speaked, but it sounded Greek!
His can of Sauerkraut had begun to leak!

 So I added “Philbert Fout, please enjoy your Sauerkraut.
Eat it quickly before it all leaks out.
Ram it quickly down your snout.
Eat it festively as you are out.
Eat it with some more smoked trout.
You do not need it for no gout.
You care not of Cuisine of Haut.
You love your ‘Kraut, there is no doubt.
Enjoying it what it's about.”

But Philbert Fout looked at me with doubt,
And he began, began to pout!
Perhaps he thought I was a lout?
But Sauerkraut?? Not in my snout!!
I did not care what it’s about.
To me it tastes like bathroom grout.

He solemnly said, “Please try my sauerkraut.
Just a little before it all leaks out.
Just put a taste within your snout.
If you don’t like it spit it out.
And we’ll never speak again of `kraut.”

So I did it, I tried the `kraut.
The small piece I put in my snout.
I had prepared to spit it out,
But it did not taste like bathroom grout!
I began to see what it’s about!

I loudly said “Thank you, thank you Philbert Fout!
I really love your sauerkraut!
I love it now that I am out!
I would love to eat it with a trout!
I shall cram it down my snout!
There is, at all, no need to pout!
I like Cuisine of Haut, I am no lout!”

“Oh Philbert Philbert Philbert Fout,
Of this I’m sure I have no doubt,
I love I love your Sauerkraut!!!”

 “I’d love to stuff it down my pants.
Love to eat it at my Aunts.
Even love to eat it while in Cairns.
To eat some more I’ll change my plans.
Be fun to eat it on a log.
Be fun to eat it with my dog.
A giant load - we’d go whole hog”

But Philbert Fout was no longer there.
He had disappeared, with his Teddy Bear.
Perhaps ridden off quickly on his mare?
Maybe off to the nearest fair?
Perhaps to get some stylish hair?
Could he have gone back to his lair?
Maybe he simply did not care?

So I yelled into the breeze.
I yelled gently, I did not scream.
I knew I was suddenly at ease.
‘Cause I knew where he must have gone.
To get others to come along.
To get them to see what it's all about.

He had a mission, had a dream:
To put Sauerkraut into each and every snout.

 “Thank you Thank you Philbert Fout,
Patron Saint of Sauerkraut!”

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