Warmest childhood memories of
my favourite aunt's country kitchen
with her homemade sourdough bread
and fresh clover honey gathered
from her very own bee hives
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
-------- From FiFo to LiLo-----
-----------------------------------
Rowan is a berry that it's extractions are used to
make sorbit acid a preservative used in baking.
Sorbus Aucuparia, also called mountain ash
is not related to the ash tree.it is one of the many
plants in the familiar Rosaceae family that also
contains roses, apples, and raspberries, and that
I have written about here so often.
Rowan trees are one of the most eye-catching tree
it's berries look like cherry tomatoes.While not deadly
poisonous, raw rowan berries contain parasorbic acid
and cyanogenic glycosides, which can cause significant
stomach upset, vomiting, diarrhea, and potential
kidney issues if eaten in large amounts, but cooking
(or freezing) converts these compounds to safe sorbic
acid, making them edible for jams, jellies
, and syrup.
Written by:
The Bread pro's
Yeast College
best sourdough, brioche
and tradational yeast recipes of Earth.
A picturesque snow dancing iced winter rings,
imagine its artic coat tail’s sheer zoom,
frosty shriek from children who flaunt its soft melt flake,
the zeal unleashed by doting winter veteran kin attachment,
if adult figures shiver they might whoop,
as well as gorge ravenously on a chilled feast,
from cascade to wobbly ad hoc cold spurt gaze fixer,
snow is both Christmas rampant friend and foe,
aching frostbitten trees with swirls and limp splatters,
gardens bear the ruthless onslaught,
of wispy white sourdough layers,
hoarse vocal mantra cushioned quiver,
in that agile limb shudder on a surface torrent,
fantasy upon fun-filled fantasy such wonderland entanglement,
immerse oneself in the occluding snowball sphere,
camaraderie of fellow eye dazzled worshippers,
at the swooning atmospheric glacial shrine tangible,
of frozen vapour tickling and teasing awestruck mirth,
so ephemeral in its momentary winter surreal deluge,
yet impactful mind lodger so audacious in its billowing beauty
My son-in-law asked for my ‘take’
On a sourdough loaf that he baked
I said, “It is yummy,
“The texture is gummy,
“With bread like that who would need cake?”
we are all drones on the freeway today
hardly any excitement this side of the bay
then two crazy racing drivers head our way
They whip past me, one yellow, one gray
Youngsters I think rolling my hazel eyes
Unsure actually, their windshields dark as spies
But they drive like maniacs, like I did at twenty-three
When did I turn into old aged sourdough me?
I send a prayer down that freeway for them
two children of someone, named Mary and Jim
Crashing would be devastating for all of us
wanting to join them in their speeding, I give a cuss.
never thought oldsters were any fun
Yet now I have turned into one.
A colleague once gave me, on paper,
A recipe written by hand
For Passover rolls
And one of her goals
Was for choices I’d make to expand.
Though they can’t substitute for a bagel
Or some sourdough or seeded rye,
For the holiday week
When some bread I might seek,
They’re a stand-in on which I rely.
When I make them, I’m thinking of Mildred,
Though I’m certain that she is long gone,
But when I form the dough
Into roll shapes, I know
That her spirit I’m carrying on.
Sourdough crumbles under my hands,
flour thick on the counter, white haze
same as my father used to breathe in.
The skin splits where I score it, steam
unfurling from the center like something
trying to leave.
I eat the heel first, next its soft middle,
then the quiet between bites, imagining
what’s left of his lungs. He was convinced
his anger would bully up, save him.
He hated me, and now it’s just me
communing with wild yeast.
Hallelujah.
Crackpot Dream
Instead of a Blessing,
I'd Like to Propose A Toast!
SOURDOUGH!
Wahoo!
I Love Sourdough
An Underestimated
---TANG!---
Better Than No
Irritation.
No Really...
Stop Making That Face...
---crunch---
It
Had a Mother,
YOU KNOW.
-Gray Squirrel
11-09-2024
I tend to mourn who I used to be,
To think of all the change I have endured–since birth, until now.
I think about how happy I was as a child,
Rocks and sticks were my friends,
I talked to the birds in the trees, and they talked back,
The smell of my grandma's sourdough pancakes was the best thing in the world.
And the Earth was so small–I could hold it in my tiny fist.
I often feel like I let go of her,
Like she got lost while I grew up.
Other times I can see her smiling at me in the mirror, in awe of all in which she has become.
I can feel her when I cry about how beautiful the birds sound,
When I think about how deeply I love,
Or how I still sleep with her teddy bear every night.
I find her in everything.
I find me in everything.
The Bakers Boys had a bakery for as long as I knew.
We would get fudge, cookies, cakes, and pies from them too.
My grandma bought sourdough and rye.
My mom would buy cookies from no other guy.
Why do you call them boys? I asked my mother.
She had no answer, but I heard snickering from my brother.
You forget she is old too, said my sister, better watch yourself.
Every kind of dessert was laid up on this bakery shelf.
The Baker Boys were in their nineties now.
They added flavored milk which they made from a cow.
Why do they call them boys? Asked my tiny granddaughter.
Not sure I replied. But their bread is fresh if not hotter.
Ground brisket and red bean chili over rice
,...................
Deep fried spaghetti noodles w/zucchini
and bacon and marinara sauce
..............
Teriyaki Roasted pork or
Teriyaki Roasted turkey
W/ broad noodles and vegetables
.............,........
........beef half smokes
In carmelized onions and green peppers
Sweet potato pie
Bourbon carmelized
Pecans
And cheese cake
and brownie yeas
turnovers w/ coffee and rum
.........
.........................
Sourdough cinnamon rolls
With apple and radians
And brown sugar Carmel
.......
Smoked boneless rib sandwiches
Slathered in bbq sauce
One a toasted
Bun w/ the fixings
Served w both sweet potatoes fries
And our English chips
Don't forget the pickle!
..........
Ground brisket and red bean chili over rice
,...................
Deep fried spaghetti noodles w/zucchini
and bacon and marinara sauce
..............
Teriyaki Roasted pork or
Teriyaki Roasted turkey
W/ broad noodles and vegetables
.............,........
........beef half smokes
In carmelized onions and green peppers
Sweet potato pie
Bourbon carmelized
Pecans
And cheese cake
and brownie yeas
turnovers w/ coffee and rum
.........
.........................
Sourdough cinnamon rolls
With apple and radians
And brown sugar Carmel
.......
Smoked boneless rib sandwiches
Slathered in bbq sauce
One a toasted
Bun w/ the fixings
Served w both sweet potatoes fries
And our English chips
Don't forget the pickle!
..........
He's on a health kick,
Running until he's feeling sick.
No alcohol or flavoured vapes,
Sleeping eight hours with closed drapes.
Chopping up veggies with brown rice,
Drinking green smoothies with cubes of ice.
Avoiding French fries and burger meals,
Measuring his blood pressure when he feels.
Chicken is his only meat,
Especially eaten as a treat.
He has decaffeinated tea and coffee,
And natural sweetness in his banoffee.
Enjoying pasta with basil oil,
Some sourdough pieces, quite small.
Swimming daily fifty lengths,
To keep up his body strength.
He's a regular at the gym,
His personal trainer looks up to him.
Because he's on a health kick,
And exercising until he's feeling sick.
Contrasting and full of range.
He featured styles that were
in tuned to her octaves.
She wished him to shine to
show a world her discussion making
abilities. She knew that her range
her assignment would be to
convince him to agree to a point
in the song where
her low range would be answered with
his higher range
her low ooh would be answered
with her higher ooh
until they reached the section of
the piece where the tempo of the
song changed. Octaves to
describe rallentando to
accelerando or vice versa. He would
have to understand and
agree:
to make the rendesion the best
interpretation of a rendering of
the piece. They would talk it over
in a horse and buggy to assure the
gentlemen that she was honest and
sincere. The virtuosity of the man
is all she demands.
To There Own Ambition
Black salsa with garlic and cilantro
with charred green onions
and Ribeye steaks
Sourdough yeast rolls
Garlic parmesan and cream rice pilaf
w/ toasted pine nuts and pancetta
Blackberry and Molten Chocolate souffle'
w/ vanilla ice-cream
with Muscat de-Beaurmes de Venise
A smile might began the evening.
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