Hattie’s Extinction Rebellion
My name’s Hattie, I’m a tattie,
I’m a carbo, out and proud.
I can stand alone if need be
But I’m better with a crowd.
I have lots of tattie pals
But we’re getting a bad press
From the body-conscious people
Who advise you to eat less.
So we’re here to state our case
In our time of royal need;
To tempt you and convince you
Lest we’re all consigned to seed.
We’re the roasties to your roast.
With your bangers, we’re the mash.
You can boil us with your mince
Or combine us with your hash.
With a salad or grilled salmon,
We’re delicious when we’re new.
Baked and filled we’re Winter comfort.
We’re stupendous in a stew.
When your fish is beer-battered
Or your burger’s in a bun,
Without a poke of salty chips
The meal is much less fun.
If you wish, we can go posh;
Dauphinois or hasselback,
Patatas bravas or a rosti,
Fondant (if you have the knack).
Limoges-style potato pie,
Spicy wedges, sag aloo,
Light pommes anna, robust gratin,
Boulangère and rich fondue.
Celebrate the humble tattie.
Mash or boil or roast or bake.
And when you have leftovers,
Turn them into tattie cake.
Need some calorific comfort?
Were you stood up by your date?
When in life the worst ‘Chit’ happens,
We will always have your plate.