A Pint of lager.
I did my best
To be a middle-class person
Drank good wine
That is what people of elevated taste do
I never liked wine
Upmarket vinaigrette
I only drink beer these days
Finding my way back to my roots
Those days, when we drank big glasses of lager
And criticized a fine writer
Someone as holy as Knut Hamsun.
We wanted to impress the girls, so I wore
A French beret, a serious intellectual who read
Every article I could come across before
Voicing an opinion
So we said many stupid things
But you cannot be wise if you have
Never been a dolt.
I have lost my precious
mien, it is so
Tiring to be serious about oneself.
She likes to embroider me -
a subjective needlepoint
yet a realistic arts and crafts.
A long relationship
requires some fine stitching.
I see a broken thumb nail,
a hand greasy with engine oil.
A vinaigrette of my silhouette
cleaning grandpa's old revolver
just because I do sometimes,
just because.
A chipped tooth and beat-up nose
the fist that hit it, now nowhere
to be challenged.
A telltale hint of man-boobs
an old man's wrinkly bottom.
Her fingertips are clear-eyed,
but the images are softened
with a patient love.
She also embroiders
hummingbirds, butterflies
and flowers -
a holy trinity to encircle a baldhead,
the dome of which
she kisses each night.
She composes
all these scraps of my reality
on a broad white cloth
that I am happy to wash
my sleep-fuzzed face with
each morning.
salt and pepper six large beeff bones bake at 350 for 35 to 40 mins.
remove a cool
remove marrow from the bone and set aside
2 cups of chopped minced fine cremine mushrooms
1 cup of olives chopped fine
1/2 cup of minced onion
2 T of minced garlic
4 T of roasted bell pepper
1/2 stick of butter
salt and pepper
1 teaspoon of cayenne pepper
4 T conagac
2/3 cups of heavy cream
2 T of dried thyme
Cook the mushroom duxelles. Sauté very finely chopped mushrooms, shallots, and thyme together into a flavorful paste.
mix in marrow
mix well and set aside
We want Two cups of cooked fork tender pot roast
shred pot roast into small fine pieces
and add to the mushroom mixture
cut the Pate A Chouxs in half removing any extra filling
or remove the tops
layer prosciutto in the puffs and
add beef mixture
serve with Crispy Garlic Parmesan Fries
and Salad with a light vinaigrette and
Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot
Enjoy!
They came together, love entwined,
When stars in heaven were aligned.
But their love hit a hurdle,
When their vinaigrette failed to curdle,
Their blitz emulsification ill-fated,
leaving oil and vinegar separated.
They crossed their fingers together,
Looked up at the sky, to see whether
The stars had crossed to unsupportive.
Sure enough, the stars were abortive.
So they went their separate ways.
Pledging to try again on better days,
When double-crossing stars crossways
Had unclasped to an uncrossed phase,
And they could dump their mayonnaise.
I had put our meeting off so many times for fear that it would fail, and be a waste of time. I prepared a lovely salad. Thought I'd make some mayonnaise. The kind I thought you liked, with a yolk of free-range eggs, gluten-free and ovovegetarian. Low-carb to be on the safe side as well. Not the bottled commercial stuff full of preservatives and chemicals, but hand-made fresh from scratch au naturel, sweet, tasty, tangy and lovely.
I gently beat the egg yolk and slowly drizzled the vegetable oil into it a few drops at a time, while whisking, relatively not too briskly. I thought all was going ever so well. But the mixture became clumpy and lumpy as the emulsion broke, fell apart, and separated. I started again, mixing ever so slowly this time to bring the immiscible oil and yolk slowly together to meld and combine. But I failed again and again and again.
Out of eggs, with no time to get more, I made a vinaigrette instead! Oil and vinegar, smooth and rough, sweet and sour. They meld so well, despite their relative quirks and differences. No yolk this time. Touche.
sizzling fish taco, spread with
hottest Tabasco
avocado, bassa fillet
pungent vinaigrette
mango salsa moist
deliquesce
melts!
June 2, 2022
"What's Cooking On The Grill This Summer" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: M. L. Kiser
Syllables checked by HMS.com
Fungus grew between her toes
How and when, no one knows
Perhaps, barefoot in mushroomed fields
This careless walking sometimes yields
It started with a tiny itch
It grew and then would throb and twitch!
Could breadcrumbs quell this prickly ache
She packed her toes, make no mistake
Mystery solved, at last she snaps!
My toes look like stuffed mushroom caps
She soaked them in some vinaigrette
A glass of wine and she’s all set!
A fuchsia sunset,
a vacant room in the inn
with a vista near the sea,
inhaling your sweet scent
that lingered and excited
as we hugged each other on the porch.
The calm sea flowed into the bay,
the fishermen coming in with their catch,
the red mullet, elegant to see,
tasteful to eat as the bar-b-q flared,
the fish sprinkled in herbed oil,
garnished with garlic,
and an aromatic salsa verde,
plus salad and its vinaigrette.
I remember your fragile face,
your tender mouth munching,
spitting the tiny small bones
the red mullet is renowned for.
Your satisfaction of the freshness of the catch,
your pleasure for the craggy crustaceans,
laid out like precious jewels
on a dewy bed of snow-white ice.
Alas I remember,
for it was our last luscious meal together.
Next day you went to war never to return.
29 April 2021
AZAFRAN dances tango well
SPANISH IN ARGENTINA.
Divinely harmonized
in the vinaigrette, onion, pepper
and tomato ... it's the joyful sound
of the barbecue music ...
In phenomenal pas de deux
the carrot and rice ...
When alone, the tomato is whole
BLUSH in FLASH ...
Peas drummed on the plate
waiting for the skewer of
strange dance of forks ...
Potatoes are made COCKTAILS
when from POMME DE TERRE
are announced ...
It's gastronomic festival on the tables
and in salads ... or in the Chinese pagoda
of "barges"
Festive dance of dancing vegetables
at its own party ...!
folks...in my defense
it was the salad talking
and champagne vinaigrette
5/30/2019
Aesculus hides a sprig of buckeye
longing another lemongrass scene
secluded off in rainy day kisses
washing against the grainy rocks
... of me
A sorrel drenched in vinaigrette
tossed and served cold
Warm weather wishes woven
tied up and hidden with the riches
sparking chestnut driven dreams
Restless amidst arms of ardor
cerulean wisps parasol freely
into secluded sunset horizons
falling slowly into me
A honeydew sculpture of rare succulence
dripping down and living
in the corners of my sky
-Always
(Baldassare Galuppi was a music composer
in 18th century Venice. Johann Pachelbel
came a little earlier. Maurice Chevalier and
Mistinguette were vaudeville artists and
on-off lovers in Paris in the 1920s.)
Your filigree correctly fret,
those perforations, so correct!
And how I love that dying strain,
suggesting sadness, feigning pain!
A twisted, coloured paper chain,
a love both sacred and profane,
your melody's a silhouette:
imperfect pleasure, sweet regret.
Your sharp and sugared vinaigrette
is like a Pachelbel duet,
a sorbet made with fine champagne,
or raindrops on a window pane,
the fragrant soil of southern Spain,
a grief I still can't ascertain -
Chevalier and Mistinguette?
That wistful chime! I hear it yet!
In ode to all who succumb
through wayward passages
lined of scribble notes
dripping ink’s savagery,
staining cursive patterns
in Sylvia-like depressions
Jarred bells ring
down lost tunnels
around each dark corner…clang
from steeples we chase
and beds we lie
draped in sadness
and shapes of
poetic happenstance
Tear drop vinaigrette
spiced of leftover lifetimes
drizzled on leafy desperation
bids a tired farewell
before time collects
the deserved rewards
On a blustery winter night my loved one comes to dine.
The table is set for two in front of a cheerful fire and
a candle flickers in delight beside one perfect yellow rose.
I greet my love with a kiss and a glass of Napa Ridge Sauvignon
Blanc. We sit for a while and enjoy fig and Humboldt Fog
goat cheese crostini, while we sip the sweet nectar of the grape.
Soon it is time for me to serve a salad of grilled romaine with bacon and
cherry tomato vinaigrette. We enjoy our quiet conversation while
listening to a compilation disc I made of some of his favorites…
Chopin piano sonatas, Billy Joel ‘s Uptown Girl, The Phantom Of The Opera
and a few selections from an old Beetles album.. Now the entre,
Lamb Chops with a garlic and mustard crust, haricort verts in browned
butter and potatoes gratin . With our entrée we splurge on a bottle
of Screaming Eagle Zinfindel..A bit later I bring out a huckleberry tart
with homemade vanilla bean ice cream.
It was an an evening of culinary delight, made truly special by being with
the one that keeps me safely in his heart.
after all those sleepless nights
i figured it out.
I'm not sick without you
I don't even miss you.
a piece of our sex is stuck in my sinuses;
like a virus is.
i can't remember how it felt to be inside you,
but i can taste it when i spit.
Your sweat a carnal vinaigrette,
lips like mandarin oranges swimming in rose-water.
Soufflé sighs and martini moans.
pallet full, stomach empty.
Your face is a white blur, no black, maybe grey
no
all these are too colorful.
You're a shapeless cloud of vapor
Refracting headlights on winding lonesome roads in my mind.
Perfume.
Au' du recklessness,
an earthy mix of lavender and salamander slime.
lakewater and sublime sing-alongs.
santeria love potion number 9.
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