Showing posts with label Cookery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cookery. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Après le diner

It's nothing, really.
But, I can tell

our week's dinner
from the small aches

the burns and scalds,
and nicks they wrought.

It is the half-eaten plate
that brings heartache


Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Santa-Hat Triptych

NuNu designed and made these Santa's Hats based on something a class mom brought to their Holiday party... We improvised with some Pinterest help...

And the next day, she taught her brother too.


Wednesday, September 23, 2015


Nu hasn't eaten her lunch--a wedge of Tortilla Española from dinner the day before.

Because: "You didn't pack me a fork!"

But: "I ate everything else! Even the sour cream for the tortilla. Although it wouldn't come out and I had to use my fingers."

It's a good thing then that FB sent me a great memory yesterday.


Tuesday, March 10, 2015

One Stew to Carry it all and Cure Us

At's sick… he wanted...

something hot and soothing for dinner.
Behold our soup 
with every ingredient known to help colds:

Chicken, mackerel, 
ginger root, garlic, tomatoes,
cabbage, broccoli,

black pepper, turmeric, 
mint and jalapeños,
sprinkles of salt

Then a bit of limon and C's salsa 
from the summer of 2014 for heat.
It's delicious and magical.


Monday, March 02, 2015


Wrestling an ocean of sky
the lyrics of whited valleys,
I crave the salt of the wind

the taste of words whipped
with sea air (hold the snow).
This land calls me by all names

But holds itself cold and aloof 
hushing with remembered formality
calculations, welcomes, and reunions.


Saturday, March 15, 2014

Eat your Bath!

I made Bisibele bhath for dinner.
And Nu thought it was hilarious
saying stuff like:
"This bath is delicious!"
"I've eaten all my bath!"
You get it.

Monday, September 09, 2013

NuNu Love

7:30. After I packed everyone's lunches, 
I rushed to get changed for school.
In the time it took me to change, 
she slipped her smiley "I heart you" 
into my lunchbox.

When I got home at 4:30, she grabbed me
asking, "Did you find it? Did you see it?"
She said she kept giggling at school 
thinking about that note to me. 
Me too.


Wednesday, September 04, 2013

Give us this day our daily produce

Smiling at all the fruit and veg in my office today. 
I didn't accept the tomatoes 
'cos we have lots of them fruiting at home.
The apple is my favorite
it makes me feel like a real teacher.


Saturday, March 23, 2013


a head
of cabbage garbage
curtained disdain.

Yellow is gold
is lemons
yellow is pages
is journalism
is cold Englishman's lyric

she says
planes, and trains
--not kind to my migraines
it rhymes, write the poem
I say

forged faked
shudderin' end

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Once, twice

Your place is inside someone.
the closing of their heart
a landscape scaled to story

what if you knew everything
About why my sister looks like
my sister, the slap of silence;

the beating that is the phone ringing
The lament of memory in all
the half-remembered childhoods

what if those habits are only errands
dead from scorn; like butter asking
to be left out, sleepy in the sunlight


Sunday, April 08, 2012

Ginger + Garlic

Knowing I have two jars in the fridge plus the curry powder mom made in the coffee grinder = two nights of easy curry anytime I want...


Sunday, October 02, 2011


All morning, the kids and I walked around town putting up posters for Ubuntu Canteen.

A day perfect in so many ways.

Thursday, September 22, 2011


hide behind a plate of food
Athena, Medea, Cambodia
and spiteful

walk crippled and curved
rainbows, Bowflex, Botox
and spatial

big pans of market moons
orbit unobstructed, doubled
in riddle

Sunday, September 11, 2011

One minute of rant; one moment of funny

So... not a good couple of days. I think I may need more help than sympathetic ears and on-tap multi-generational snuggles. Can't really talk about it because (a) I already growled at my parents when they insisted that I tell them (b) mostly I don't know.

I do have a very strong feeling that my squeaky vocal delivery and my default-setting smiles are interfering with everyone's ability to take my weltschmerzen seriously. That and the suspicion that everyone has fallen for my protestations: Really, you guys! Really! Cooking and cleaning up after and chauffeuring and entertaining a family of six while prepping and teaching and grading three courses (90 students; at least twenty seem to e-mail me every day) is nothing. Really, it's easy!

The teaching and a houseful of family IS fun and I'm sincere about being grateful to be able to do it. Then also, feels like there is something I could/should do to care for myself--but I don't know what. Therapy? A drug regimen? More than six hours of sleep? Not caring if the house looks ready for the photo team from Architectural Digest every fucking minute? That the kids get assigned and balanced calories at every meal? What?


We're listening to the radio stories about 9/11 with tight throats and goosebumps. Amma breaks the spell with an earnest warning that none of us should go downtown today. Our downtown =  < 3500 people. Any terrorist coming for us would have to be lost. Or a total underachiever.


Thursday, June 09, 2011


Give back the words
give back
bring back the calls

call the hungry raven
to eat food
made for grandfather

the flicker of long ago
words echo
in my eyes


Friday, May 27, 2011

Eating People is Wrong

I have absolutely nothing against Gwyneth Paltrow--Shakespeare in Love may have even been my favorite movie for a while (because really, how many movies are made for Eng. Litt. people?!).

But this month, when my subscription (thanks, friend L!) showed up, I knew I couldn't leave it out on the kitchen table the way I usually do with Bon Appetit's gorgeous food porn. This month, Gwyneth Paltrow is on the cover.

Not saying Gwyneth isn't gorgeous, just saying I don't want to eat her face. I'm sure she too would encourage that sentiment.


Tuesday, May 24, 2011


minds waiting on tables
dinner on minds, in air

your hands are fish
your mouth is water

your belly pregnant
with fancy flames

tender are vegetables
lost in becoming language

steam stretches branches,
falls thick and everywhere

my voice finds its legs
and children, dinner is here