Leaving aside the issue of meat (the stink, the stink),
yes, certainly, there is a great deal of violence in the cooking.
Potatoes must be boiled,
scalded until the skin dangles and the flesh collapses to the touch.
Then you mash:
pulverize, puncture, press
until the flesh gives in
and yields,
breaks down,
particulates.
The beheading of carrots,
the flaying of onions (oh, there are layers),
eggs beaten like stepchildren and then exposed
to the Church of Heat's frying pan glare,
their inky yellows hardening into the repose of agony.
Salt the wound, throw pepper in their eyes
(ground pepper, put through a grinder).
Carve away until you reach the artichoke's heart.
Never forget the blood orange.
Never forget that the grater is mechanical
leprosy for the cheese.
To melt is to become flaccid, uncontrolled, and spineless.
(c) 2006 Ben Rawluk, all rights reserved