To be precise -- orange tipped in yellow, fully-open succumbing to gravity. Akimbo.
Food? How beautiful is butternut squash. Or golden beets. Or an egg yolk. Does a poem benefit from being cheerful? I know a poem is bereft if there is no color. Black, of course, being the pinnacle. As mentioned before, don't shy away from red, though.
Cook by color; write by color.