Saturday, April 14, 2012

Comfort Food


Write a poem a person might actually cook from, but it has to be about something beyond just food.  It should be a poem as well as a recipe.

There are days when, 
in my hunger,
I could open my mouth
and eat the whole world,

but even that would not my assuage
the deep and unbidden craving,
so I settle for sliced ripe tomatoes
and thick slabs of buffalo mozzerella
circling the plate,
to which I add
a handful of chopped onion,
a sprinkle of balsamic vinegar,
a splash of oil,
several leaves of fresh basil,
and a mere dash of black pepper

Eaten slowly
it comes close to satisfying
that gnawing ache inside
that yearning for something not food
that even vinegar cannot reach. 



6 comments:

Brian Miller said...

alright you made me a bit hungry...smiles....happy saturday!

Out on the prairie said...

This sounds real good to eat, I love the fresh mozzarella

Judith said...

Poetry is, generally speaking, beyond me ---
But often your poetry does manage to speak to me. And when it's like this --- food, lovely food! --- merged with the words, it's GRAND.

molly said...

So true that, sometimes, not even the most delicious food can satisfy the "hunger" inside of us.....

Anne said...

I'm putting mozzarella on my grocery list.

Friko said...

Excellent, both poem and recipe.

You've collected a few of my favourite ingredients and I have eaten this dish many a time, before I became lactose intolerant.