Poetry Sundays

Cotton Candy On A Rainy Day

Don't look now
I'm fading away
Into the gray of my mornings
Or the blues of every night

Is it that my nails
keep breaking
Or maybe the corn
on my secind little piggy
Things keep popping out
on my face or of my life

It seems no matter how
I try I become more difficult
to hold
I am not an easy woman
to want

They have asked
the psychiatrists . . . psychologists . . .
politicians and social workers
What this decade will be
known for

There is no doubt . . . it is
loneliness


written by Nikki Giovanni

So now what??.... I like gin?

  A couple of weeks ago, my friend Michelle made a statement which was so crazy (at least in my mind) that it has haunted me ever since.  She said, "You may grow to like beer over time."  This may have been a truthful enough statement for some.  But, let's face it, I am forty.  I have been drinking alcohol for a while now.  I have not like beer yet (and I have tried plenty).  I don't want to say I will never like beer.  But what are the chances?  Unless this love of beer turns out to be part of a painfully slow learning curve, it's not  happening.
   Now, Michelle is a fan of gin.  Generally speaking, my tipple of choice is vodka.  But on a whim, I chose to make a cocktail with gin for a game night that I hosted at my house.  I made pomegranate gimlets.  They were very tasty.  They would have been even better, I'm sure, if I had use fresh pomegranate juice like the recipe required.  Who has time for that?  If I was so lucky to have a fully stocked bar that might have happened.  Maybe.  But unfortunatly, I don't.  I also don't have minions at my beck and call to take care of all of my juicing needs. So there you are.
   What I learned from this great gin experiment, is that I may like it.  So maybe Michelle is partially correct.  Clearly my tastes are changing.  I may begin to like different alcoholic beverages.  I may like gin now.  But beer.... I don't think so.... just sayin.

GIN by Tiger Lillies

Poetry Sundays

Some Questions You Might Ask

Is the soul solid, like iron?
Or is it tender and breakable, like
the wings of a moth in the beak of an owl?
Who has it, and who doesn't?
I keep looking around me.
The face of the moose is as sad
as the face of Jesus.
The swan opens her white wings slowly.
In the fall, the black bear carries leaves into the darkness.
One question leads to another.
Does it have a shape? Like an iceberg?
Like the eye of a hummingbird?
Does it have one lung, like the snake and the scallop?
Why should I have it, and not the anteater
who loves her children?
Why should I have it, and not the camel?
Come to think of it, what about maple trees?
What about the blue iris?
What about all the little stones, sitting alone in the moonlight?
What about roses, and lemons, and their shining leaves?
What about the grass?
 

  Mary Oliver, "Some Questions You Might Ask"
House of Light, Beacon Press, Boston (1990)
Also: New And Selected Poems (1992), p. 65

Raise your rolling pins to the sky! It's National Pie Day!!

    It's National Pie Day my friends!  On this day, I chose to make a blackberry-peach pie.  Blackberries are so lovely in a pie filling.  Peaches are fantastic any old time, in any old way.  Unfortunately, the peaches were not quiet ripe.  The pie is very tasty but would be out of this world if the peaches were ripe enough.  But then this is what you get baking with fruit that is clearly out of season.  I mean it is January after all!  In fact, at this very moment it is a startling 1 degree outside.  At least there is snow on the ground.  Snow makes everything better!
    During my morning of pie making, I listened to Fashion Nugget by CAKE.  And as I was singing along with the songs and dancing across the kitchen floor, I wondered if this was somehow pie sacrilege. But then one of my favorite covers of all time came on - "I Will Survive".   That thought flew right out of my head.  Listening to CAKE is always glorious.  I mean here is a band who covered the classic "I Will Survive" and, in my opinion, made it better.  Here is a band that has given us songs with titles such as : "Sheep Go to Heaven", "Pentagram" and "Stickshifts and Safety Belts".  Yes, the name CAKE may bring to mind the sweet arch enemy of pie.  But PIE is the new cupCAKE.... Haven't you heard?

I Will Survive -- CAKE

Poetry Sundays

   My friend Michelle (who claims she does not like poetry) suggested that I post a poem on my blog every now and then.  I think that was a fabulous idea.  I love poetry.  I read and write poetry. And so should everyone else (Michelle claims she is going to give poetry another go.)!
   In honor of this occasion, the first poem I post will be one of mine:

 

Interpretation

In the dream I am getting married to a man I do not know.

Signifying a union of two opposite yet complimentary ideas.

Speak many words that mean nothing and everything.

Go around the tree and under the sky to find an unknown.

On the phone with a friend, she is desperate to understand.

Understand the mind of a person she barely knows.

Both sides of the same coin tossed in the air too many times.

Listen to words. Look into eyes. Imagine meaning.

Two days ago the moon was the largest of the year.

A full moon drowns out  imperfections or magnifies frailty.

And here I am pulling on thoughts.  Rubber-bands

collected and reused,  elastic but breakable.

It's Le Creuset Crisp Time... MORE Picture Pages

 

     This is where all of the magic happens.  My kitchen plus one black cat - Aster.

In the beginning, there was the fruit.

After hours and hours and hours of slaving, the peeling and the slicing is done.

 just add: sugar, flour, cinnamon, orange juice, orange zest, lemon juice and lemon zest

mixin' the crispy bits: sugar, brown sugar, flour, oatmeal, butter and pecans

Hidden underneath is an additional layer of crispy bits.  Isn't this pot too fabulous?

More crispies!!

And now... We are ready for the oven!

The finished monster - Pear Apple Crisp in momma and baby Le Creuset!

Doesn't that look yummy? .... Well, it was!

Le Creuset, Cassoulet, and Me

   I have been attempting to be fiscally conservative while working my second job at Williams-Sonoma.  But, on Friday, I caved.  I bought something that I really don't need.  I bought the Le Creuset Cassoulet set.  Really, I do not need this set.  It was on sale. It was a great deal.  I got a sweet discount.  I had to have it.  The set came with a cast iron enameled pot with a lid and for matching bowls.  All the pieces are RED.  RED I say.  This is my first Le Creuset pot.  I am totally stoked.  
   As I type this, I am imagining all of the dishes I can make in this pot.  Can you feel the excitement?  It's gonna be good.  It's gonna be something tasty.  It's gonna be a savory pie, luscious cobbler, delicious soup or (dare I say it) cassoulet.  Whatever  I choose, you better believe I am going to serve it up in the four matching stoneware bowls.   
   Now that I think about it, I have some apples and pears that need a purpose.  I was thinking of making an apple-pear pie tomorrow.  But now, I think I will make a pear-apple cobbler in my beautiful new Le Creuset Cassoulet piece.  Because now that I own it, I might as well use it.

  Who's with me?     
  

  

Bring It, Martha!!

   You gotta wonder about Martha Stewart.  How in the world does she manage her life and make all of those painfully precise and detailed dishes?  Sure, we all know she has an enormous group of minions at her beck and call.  But what drives a person to be so thorough, so detail oriented, so bloody organized?
   I can certainly appreciate the idea of Ms. Martha Stewart's vision.  She explains a lot - which is great if you have no idea what you are doing.  And in the explaining, you begin to understand why it is crucial that you do just as she says.  I mean, the world might actually spin off of it's axis if you forget a step.  For me, following Martha Stewart's recipes almost always lower my self esteem by a few points.  Like, the time I made these little Jamaican jerk chicken sandwiches.  The sandwiches were fantastic.  But the last step required me wrap each tiny sandwich up in a bow using chives.  This very time consuming but also very frustrating.  Why couldn't I just use toothpicks?  Not to mention the endless ribbing that I received about the diminutive sandwiches from friends.  Of course, this didn't stop them from eating said sandwiches.
   My father's wife, who I hold in the highest regard when it comes to cooking, is a fan of Martha Stewart.  She has used Martha's "Pate Brisee" (that's basic pie crust for us simpletons) recipe for years.  It was my stepmother who suggested I use this pie crust recipe.  I totally get why she is a fan of Ms. Stewart.  They have many similar qualities: the never ending organizational and planning skills, the precision and perfection in execution,  and finally the flawless presentation.  I have never known anyone else to make preparation lists complete with tiny boxes to hold check marks when the task is completed.  This is surly something that Martha Stewart must do - or at the very least - one of her minions.
   Well, I am now the proud owner of "Martha Stewart's Pies and Tarts" circa 1985.  Thank to my stepmother.  And I gotta say when I leaf through page after page of glossy pie and tart brilliance, I imagine myself creating such loveliness.  I imagine myself having enough patience to make a pie crust with a braid added all along the edge.  I imagine myself creating something called "Pink Applesauce Primrose Tart" or "chocolate leaves".  I imagine myself in some fifties style dress and heels, baking in an immaculate kitchen, my clothes, hair and makeup flawless. Then I come down from that cloud into my reality: me - barefoot in jeans and a turtleneck, without an apron, without makeup, with flour everywhere, listening to Radiohead at an unacceptable level.  This is my world - a world filled with a little bit of organization and a bit more mess.
   But then, I am who I am.  And I will never be Martha Stewart.  I will, however, enjoy the attempt.  I may even start with this outrageousness:

Chocolate Mousse "Architecture" Tart