kindOfAProcess

cooking for me has for many years been
a bit crazy, maybe like
the chef in muppet show, out
of lines to divide taste
from chaos or
the get-it-done hands of my mom,
a down-to-earth femme,
when potatoes are
just what– they are, ya

look at me with deep-sea eyes,
“a dash of salt helps onions sweat and–”
when you bend your head to
show me– cutting edge sharp

blade in hand,
slicing along firm, white flesh,
separating limber spine & skin &–
i dont know, might be
the way you–

“gonna
let ’em ripe” weigh-ing
moon-

sized melons, fingers
soft against the smooth shape,
breathing in their scent, “a glass
of chardonnay– ok, so

take the filet–” bathed
in olive oil, i watch how you
with precise surgeon’s hands
work carefully, determined yet towards that
undetected thread– i’ve never
seen you use a food brush, neither
gloves

Chop, choP, a bunch

of herbs fall to the quick cut of
the guillotine, blending in a slow-spin, grAiny dance
with fresh ground salt, BlacK–
pepper and you gently rub the glis-
tening mixture on their backs “let’s

give ‘em a bit time to rest” i nod
but then, we know– already

.

over at dVerse we’re ringing out our anniversary celebration week with the group poetry reading of Friedrich Schiller’s “Song of the Bell” which you can find already here and on the dVerse FB page. And for the prompt, well, we thought we’d step boldly into Schiller’s footsteps and observe a bit of what’s going on around us.. see you at 3pm EST in the pub

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55 responses to “kindOfAProcess

  1. You described it so well, as one familiar with all the intricacies of cooking. You can never get the same with young people these days. They’re adept with microwave techniques only. Great write Claudia!

    Hank

  2. I like the cooking instructions, sweating and ripening ~

    And I listened to the reading by the group, it was great listening to everyone’s voices.

    Congrats for making this a success ~

  3. what a great shared moment, and i bet just one of many like this 😉

    “a down-to-earth femme,
    when potatoes are
    just what– they are” –

    yeah, 😉

  4. Cooking has its parallels in other areas of life. As so often, Claudia, the words are well chosen and sharp, like a knife….or guillotine. I too have listened to the group poem! You did a great job of compiling! Kudos to all of us…kudos to you.

  5. i really like the causalness i feel as i read this claudia…there is intimacy there…a little different than your usual but still there that makes this very warm…from the chopChop on is my fav part…the guilotine….nice…

  6. I like the care in the observations here. A real sense of appreciation in the art of food preparation and cooking. 🙂

    I heard the reading over on facebook. And it is awesome!

  7. This has to be one of my most favourite reads of yours. The connection between mother teaching and daughter absorbing is so lovely. The descriptions of what your mother is doing and your thoughts as she is cutting, salting, oiling, are so vivid. What a truly lovely write this ll is Claudia.
    The Bell Poem reading by so many poets was delightful.

  8. “take the filet–” bathed
    in olive oil, i watch how you
    with precise surgeon’s hands
    work carefully, determined yet towards that
    undetected thread– i’ve never
    seen you use a food brush, neither
    gloves…”

    Hi! Claudia…
    Tks, for sharing your poem “Kind Of A Process”…I feel through your [very] descriptive poetic words you took your readers, through a very descriptive step-by-step lesson in the fine art Of preparing food…Thank-you, very much for sharing!
    deedee 🙂

  9. my own cooking is rather haphazard, but i too remember… my mother preferring to show, not tell…. i love the down-home, slow-cook process of your poem, the weaving in & out of remembered dialogue & intimacy of relationship that shows through

  10. Mmmmm. Lovely. I am in love with the sharing, the inner thoughts of the narrator and the dialogue of the cook. I’m pouring myself a glass of cote du rhone to reread (sorry, my last trip was Paris).

    “the get-it-done hands of my mom,
    a down-to-earth femme,
    when potatoes are
    just what– they are, ya . . . ”

    (for me this would be my grandfather kneading his raisin bread)

    “blade in hand,
    slicing along firm, white flesh,”

    the surgeon emerges early, if only she could realign my spine, release my pinched nerves, ripen my waiting . . . know the outcome will be wholeness of spirit!

    “pepper and you gently rub the glis-
    tening mixture on their backs “let’s

    give ‘em a bit time to rest” i nod
    but then, we know– already”

    Thank you for this moment in the Kitchen. I will put some of my wind in the stir fry, some in libation to the sacrament of sharing food, some down my throat.

    (PS: hearing the reading of the Bell was a thrill, some because of the poem and its sounds, most because of the poets’ voices. Thank you for making it and sending it out.)

  11. Love how you love cooking! And this expresses that so eloquently! Picturing you as that Swedish chef- hurdy gurdy chicky in tha basky….he he. I wish this poem had smell- o-vision!

  12. What could be more human than food. And who could be more nurturing than a loving cook. I love this because you shared common experiences with Mom and Hubby, but they were special, loving.

    I’ll be going over to Dverse to hear the poetic voices.

  13. oh, this was very neat. I’ve always had this thought about using recipe directions as an inspiration for a poem, and have tried a few times, but never could it to work, this is fantastic, great twist on the idea I had, filled it up with reflections and such, may have to revisit that one of these days when up to it. Great read. Thanks

  14. What a beauty! As a cook myself, I can perfectly identify myself with the process of cooking. I like mine to be slow. I must have music playing in the background. Something to groove to. Something to ponder to. What a fantastic poem. Short and heartfelt. Many thanks.

  15. I love the way chefs just know what tastes good together. That’s part of the aesthetics of a culture, I think, knowing what mixes well with other, diconnected, seemingly random things. Chefs just “know.” Your wonderful portrait of the chef at work reminds us of this, along with its loving evocation of the scents, sights, sounds of the taste-making process.

  16. I can taste it Claudia–and it’s soo good. I loved the “grainy dance” with the ground spices. Thanks for the great prompt–and your feedback on my piece.

  17. Beautiful sensual poem that appeals to all senses. But then, you are expert at creating sensory images.

    I’m hungry now!

    I’m running a full system scan…let me know whether or not it works. We just downloaded an updated version of Norton.

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