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Sporadic photos and notes from a Psyche-midwife, cheerleader, anthropologist--aka clinical social worker in therapy practice. Photos are usually mine except for those of historical events/famous people. Music relevant to the daily topic is often included in a web video embedded below the blog. Click on highlighted links in the copy to get to source or supplemental material. For contact information, see my website @ janasvoboda.com or click on the button to the right below. Join in the conversation.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

January 8 Challenge: Turn a Recipe Into a Poem

On this sabbath
turn thy muse to that which sustainteth thee,
and craft your poem from a favorite recipe. 

Any form is fine-- haiku, sonnet, bad poetry, limerick. 
Here's mine.  Yeah, it's old-- whatever.  I'm challenged enough just coming up with 31 days of this stuff.
Gumbo Sonnet(ish)

when one makes a seafood gumbo
first procure a stewpot, jumbo
sized. and the holy trinity
of onion, bell pepper, celery.
to the market for crustaceans;
dispatch them with proper ministrations.
separate body from shell, in manner caesarian
out of sight of persons vegetarian.
as to this meat, refrigerate,
while stock materials you congregate.
into pot throw shell and claw
of crab, oyster and fish-(craw),
or shrimp if mudbug you have not,
then also throw into that pot
a bell pepper, seeded, and some grease
(i use canola-- but most like beast),
a carrot, some celery, an onion or two.
don't fuss-- coarsely chopped will do.
bay leaves-- two-- and garlic cloves- four;
cayenne, enough to make one roar,
now basil, thyme and oregano.
while it simmers, turn on the radio
to Bodreaux on Monroe's KJUN;
you can two-step while the roux's begun.
here's the hard part-- listen well:
if you burn the roux, it's gone to hell.
take one part oil, to one part flour
in a heavy skillet, stir a quarter hour
til the color's gone coffee au lait
(or darker if you're of cajun sway).
put it aside in a little jar;
stock needs three hours, or four.
spend the time how you like best:
listen to "slow soup" if you need suggest-
ions. after stock has made a lovely smell
get a colander; strain it well.
in a skillet: holy trinity, diced;
a pound of okra, freshly sliced,
two more bay leafs and some salt
(tears if you wish-- but it's no one's fault)--
some savory, more oregano;
saute it up ala Thibedeaux.
when the onions start to clear
the time for gumbo's getting near.
best to start a pot of rice.
any kind's fine; basmati's nice.
throw the saute in with the now-strained stock
crank up Beausoleil, hide the clock.
scour the cabinets for the file'
(sassafras to you not out creole-way)
and put in in along with the roux
to thicken up this tasty stew.
throw in tomatoes, paste and diced,
simmer till the rice is riced.
last minute throw in the crustaceans
and begin thankful prostrations.
dish some rice into your bowl
ladle on gumbo and let the good times roll.

for while this may be bad poetry
it's one hell of a good recipe.


Kiesa Kay said...

a black-clad woman slips into the pharmacy
and i follow her fascinated by her bonnet
and the black buggy with its orange triangle
continues along Main Street thanks
to two sleek black horses with white socks
she buys aspirin like anybody else
then i go next door and celebrate winter
with a cup of hazelnut coffee, a slice
of blueberry pie, and a fine bowl
of chicken noodle soup: sliced carrots,
slender Amish egg noodles, celery,
simmered in sweet broth
all the remembered teardrops of the week
evaporate in the soft cloud of steam
swirling above that sturdy white bowl
like a blessing

speck said...

where, oh, where is Colleen D with her song "what is haggis?"

speck said...

I promise I'll come up with my own, but have to share my favorite grook by Piet Hein:


There's an art of knowing when.
Never try to guess.
Toast until it smokes and then
twenty seconds less.

speck said...

water, miso, heat.
tofu, kombu, scallions.
maybe shiitake.