Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Savoury, all the way



There is something special,
About a mother's cooking.
Could be measured scoops
From some secret recipe,
Or extra dollops
Of love and care
That make it ambrosial.
But no master chef,
Anywhere on this cosmos,
Can serve a platter better than hers.

8 comments:

  1. This was very tiny on my computer screen, but well worth the eye strain. I miss my mom's meat loaf!

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    1. I am sorry for the inconvenience. I have repeated the text separately.
      Thank you so much.

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  2. Isn't that the truth? There's quite a few recipes I wish I could ask my mother to make again.

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    1. It is almost always difficult to recreate mother's magic.

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  3. Very true. No one makes it quite like Mama makes it. That is why I am glad that I had the presence of mind to have my mom tell me how to make everything and wrote down her recipes before she died. My Grandma used to be a really great cook, could make all this stuff from memory. Then she got Alzheimers and all that was gone, no one thought to get her to tell them how she did it before then.

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    1. That sounds really cool. Having noted all her traditional trade-secrets will give you a great edge ;-) And plus this way she will be always with you. Distant, yet a notebook away.

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  4. You've captured this truth beautifully!

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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.