Poemas sobre el tema: cooking

Los más leídos ▸

Risa Bear

Heart of the World

She's not much for recipes. The bowl sometimes invites her, and she oils it, cracks a duck egg or two, throws in a bit of stock or well water, maple syrup and leavening, and says to it: sit there and I'll be back with something for you. "Something" might be a beet leaf, or an apple, or a spray of young mint -- once it was a whole handful of chives. Chopped and thrown in, the whatever might vanish under oats or rye, buckwheat flour, or crumbs from the last loaf, and then salt -- late, so as not to insult the yeast. Last, she may tug the spelt barrel from beneath the counter, and dip a porcelain bowl into the cool brown powder five -- six -- seven times. She stirs the makings between heaps

Leer el poema Aprender de memoria

The Things to Do

The things to do: bring an egg from her Hens, a found apple, beet leaf, cat's-ear foliage, Ensuring freshness even in October. The skillet she heats, oil frisking. Here's egg: break yolk, turn once or twice; Insert chopped fruit and greens, with salt and pepper; Now turn again, wait, remove from heat, Give all to a spelt wrap. As she sits to her meal, a Sun rises, invests her eastern window, spills in To caress and warm six thick maple boards Of her grandmother's table. Whatever remains to be Done's already forgotten: the meal an emblem Of all her morning cared to be.