Today I measured, chopped and baked
And all from scratch, with nothing faked,
From old familiar recipes
I know, to varying degrees.
The matzoh balls I shaped, as well,
(The soup, however, made by Mel*)
And last, charoses** was prepared
With not one nut or apple spared.
The kitchen’s not my natural spot,
But on the holidays, I’ve got
The need to potchke*** so I feel
Connected to this ancient meal.
My husband asked me why I fuss,
A question worthy to discuss,
Yet all that I can say, for me,
Is this is how it has to be.
For even if nobody cared
About these dishes I have shared,
I’ll keep traditions up, unbowed
And know my grandmas would be proud.
*my husband **a dish for the Passover meal
***fiddling or messing around, especially regarding cooking
As a poetic chef,
I am ready to create a specific dish.
As I look in my book of recipes,
Limerick jumped off the page.
I must check to see if I have all the ingredients,
humor - got it.
A-A-B-B-A rhyme - got it.
7-10 syllables each line - got it.
Now to create this specific dish.
Add five lines of rhyme,
A-A-B-B-A.
Then add 7-10 syllables for each line.
Stir well,
now add extra humor.
Bake until you see the laughter browning,
serve warm for a plate of smiles.
wizard cat would not reveal his recipes or spells to any
I was not born yesterday he told his cousin Nosey Winnie
Winnie was irritated, because he had the best magic of all.
And he made wonderful cakes, none of them would fall.
egg recipes! What? Give me that cookbook
The old biddies were horrified
The restaurant owners were cannibals!
They opened up the refrigerator and gathered the eggs.
Walked out the door holding them above their heads.
We quit! They yelled to the owners.
The owner’s wife said to him
“I knew hiring three hens was going to be a problem.”
I still see my mother
sitting at the kitchen table
copying out her favorite recipes
from the Women’s Weekly magazine.
With pen in hand,
she’d carefully write the recipe,
word for word in her notebook.
There are hundreds that
she collected over the decades.
That notebook, with its dog-eared pages,
crusty stains and side notes,
is now in my hands.
The thing is, I don’t cook—
my other half is the chef in our family.
Now and then, he’ll ask me for
Mom’s notebook to try one of her
secret recipes, although he likes to add
his own twist to it—
it needs a bit of spice, he says.
But nobody beats Mom’s cooking!
If you're reading this, honey
it means the diner is burning,
It's not a typo or a misprint,
but a message:
Witches are wisdom-embedded
women who have seen worse things
than the business end of a newt's behind
I once made a man cry with desire
on a whim by telling him who he was
at twenty-five, I hadn't yet realized
it's really just a trick of language
to be specific
pick the bits of a person, hanging
like snagged teeth on stems
of last night's arugula
reading their cards like tarot on credit
serve the assessment of them
with a side of sugar they'll call it magic,
make you marry if you're good at it—knowing
when to grind the spices is the icing
sin of men or Saigon cinnamon no matter
witches as women, as wisdom get better
in time, in the garden, in the kitchen
slow-cooking rhymes that melt men's masks
over jasmine rice, like loose meat
so the young girls feeding at our hems
can remember the recipe
Marie's recipes finger-licking, why
poor Raymond lived dangerously close by
Deborah sure not expert
pretty disgruntled Robert
gourmand Dad happily gulped the whole pie!
March 31, 2022
Inspired by TV show: Everybody Loves Raymond
Lines 1,2,3 - 10 syllables, Lines 3, 4 - 7 syllables
For "On A Lim" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
FIRST PLACE
They’ve all saved Grandma’s recipes…some they know by heart…many in a copy of the book she wrote them in…for it is often amidst her recipes…where memories of her begin.
Whenever they read her handwriting…sort through her ingredients…turn on a mixer…pick up a knife…whenever they bake what Grandma baked…it brings her back to life.
For it is surrounded by Grandma’s recipes…
where aromas of her are strongest…
Where, when they close their eyes and smile,
her memories linger longest
Rich people all in receipts
Have things for their recipes
Poor people not in receipts
Don’t know what’s recipe
oh my, yo-
yo ma
a synthesis
treasure
of thought
recipe creativity
told the secret
of recipes
for minds
that hunger
for the purities
of an actuality-logic
foundation to
all endeavors
(shhhhh...
what trial and error of
mind-concepts that works
makes any reality possible)
stan sand
I am a collector of cookbooks from every store,
I can never have enough I always need more.
Cookbooks with pretty food pictures galore,
I find them on every shore.
When I travel near and far,
I find a cookbook that is a real star.
With thousands of great recipes to cook,
How in the world do I just take one look?
Cookies are oh so sweet,
Much better than a red beet.
Maybe I need to look up meat,
We can add some cheese and let’s eat.
Maybe a salad will be healthy,
But I don’t think it will make me wealthy.
Hundreds of cookbooks are lined up in a row,
I hope they do not fall on my toe.
Now off to my kitchen to see what I will cook,
Should I read a cookbook for just one more look?
7/13/2019
Is There Any Chocolate Bars Out There – Recipes Needed
All the planets are just too far
For me to drive there in my car
I therefore can’t go there to explore
To see if they have chocolate bars
But wouldn’t it be so much fun
To Snickers to them up there some
My deep fried choco bars
Which we agree are not all yours
So, until my Mercury bar makes it way
As the Universal dish of the day
Up there in the Milky Way
We can still enjoy all that Mars goo
As we work, rest and play up there too
Whilst we travel all the way to Neptune
Or even on to Pluto to
Easter eggs though is my next plan
As I think that I can
Work out where Mars and the Moon
Means I come back to you very soon
After I wash off all the goo
When I have found the coconuts too
For our new Bounty home
So no more Twix or silly tricks,
I will just give to you chocolate
Whether made in Heaven, or the Milky Way
If you want some just come and stay.
My Premature - Happy Easter Poem - Apologies all!
09/02/2019
DAMO
From fruit scones, to meat pie,
Apple crumble and coffee cake,
Sunday tea was amazing,
Because, my Granny sure could bake.
Secret ingredients, she wouldn't divulge,
Passed down from years gone by,
When I look back on those days,
It brings a tear to my eye.
From butterfly buns, to Victoria sponge,
A moist fruit loaf, filled with flavour,
Jam tarts and gingerbread men,
For the kids to savour.
Sausage rolls and a birthday cake,
Made for a special party tea,
Cheese and onion pie a fresh baked loaf,
All made especially for family.
Granny's recipes are the best recipes,
Made of all things nice,
A Granny's love as the main ingredient,
To add that extra bit of allspice.
Caffeine distracts lethargy of wine
as wine attracts simplicity
refining caffeine's dark dualistic depths.
Some substitute weed for wine.
Others mix these all together,
serve over sturdy blocks of ice
refusing to unmelt choices
and hope for Time's most generous best.
Serving more than one.
I ran across a recipe book
Called ‘Cuisine For Clientele’,
On the cover was an unchaste cook
Making prosti-soup and broth-el.
On the back it stated that ‘Eating
Is the most human obsession.
Bar for the one that bears repeating;
The world’s oldest profession.’
At first look I was taken aback,
But placed it in my hand cart.
Then at home found it was amply stacked
With cocottes and luscious tarts.
In no time flat, I got courageous
When I summoned up the nerve.
To prepare from the worn pages,
A plate of red-hot, whore-d’oeuvres.
Followed by the main course of shell fish;
A meal fit for baronets.
For ours and the books paramount dish,
Are fresh trollops on strumpets.
Sure it’s true that most of the recipes
May seem sexist and campy,
But don’t fear, coz two of its specialties
Are beef cake and pimp scampi.
For dessert we hope our guests have fun
When they wrestle for Jello.
They say it’s the best under the sun,
Though born from a Bordello.
Aroused guests always leave satisfied,
Although some try to be cute.
Yet failed no matter how hard they’ve tried
Matching my book of ill repute!
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