PAD 2022 – Day 20

The NaPoWriMo.net prompt today asked for a poem that anthropomorphizes a food. This may be cheating, but I had already done this a few weeks ago, when I looked over at my fruit bowl, and posted a tweet. Here is a short sorta-poem to go with a photo of what I saw.

Fruit Bowl Family

Loneliness? Sleep deprivation?

Just pure imagination?

Something both comical and comforting in

recognizing an entire family

in the banana-haired honeydew,

her partner, the pineapple

and their smooth-skinned baby pears,

posing for a portrait

on my kitchen counter.

Fruit Bowl Family by Kim Mannix
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Ruth’s Pancakes

Ruth’s Pancakes

I adore Pancake Tuesday, and not just for the obvious reason that it gives me an excuse to indulge in tasty, tasty pancakes.  It’s a day that also brings back warm childhood memories for me. I didn’t grow up in a religious household, but we did partake in many of the Christian traditions that have become the norm in Canada — Christmas, Easter and Shrove Tuesday (though we certainly never gave up any vices for Lent). My Mom made the best pancakes. I know everyone probably thinks that about their Mom, but “Ruth’s Pancakes”, as they were called by the many friends and family members who had the chance to taste them, were something special. We didn’t need Pancake Tuesday as an excuse to eat them, because the delicious cakes were also on the menu for many weekend brunches and even random breakfast-for-supper days. She’d make them into fun shapes, long before pancake art was a thing, and always let me eat way more than was necessary.

My Mom died just over four years ago, and since then I’ve realized just how many of my fondest memories of her, and of childhood, are ones that incorporate food and cooking. Food was love for my Mom, and it is for me too. Trying out a new recipe with my kids, or telling them stories about my family as we make a tried and true classic, is important to me. Emotion, nostalgia, that feeling of comfort and security that is especially treasured once you lose someone so close to you — all of these are ingredients in my best food memories. So of course I’ll be making “Ruth’s Pancakes” for supper tonight, to keep the tradition alive with my kids, and to feel just a little closer to my Mom.

Ruth’s Pancakes

4 large eggs

1/4 cup sugar

1/3 cup oil

3 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. salt

2 cups milk

2 cups flour

Separate eggs. In a small bowl, beat egg whites until stiff and stand in peaks. An electric hand mixer works best. Set aside. In another large bowl, beat egg yolks, sugar and oil until light and fluffy. Add baking powder, salt, flour and milk. Beat only until mixed. Fold in egg whites. Let stand for 5-10 minutes. Spoon batter into desired size, or fun shape, on to hot griddle and bake until bubbles begin to form on surface. Flip and bake until golden brown.

 

 

NaPoWriMo – Day 6

The NaPoWriMo.net prompt today suggested playing with line breaks to emphasize, or de-emphasize sounds, rhythm and thoughts. Over at Poetic Asides, the instructions were to create a poem with a food item as the title. A good one to mash up.

Pie Crust

I stopped trying
to make pie dough

You always told me
it was easy
only a few ingredients
just a little practice

Like the way they retire
an athlete’s number
the process is honoured
the recipe stored

You never wore
an apron — too fussy
just dig in and get it
done
but I should’ve
kept one
of your threadbare
tea towels

Mounted it in a shadow box
a smattering of flour
still
dusting the corner

 

 

PAD Challenge – Day 16

Who doesn’t love thinking or talking about food? And writing about it is almost as good as eating it. Today’s Poetic Asides prompt calls for a poem about your favourite restaurant. The first place that came to mind for me was this quaint diner in Fredericton, New Brunswick, where the portions were almost as big as the servers friendly smiles.

 

Faster food —

the waitress

roller skates.

*****

Cherry

or coconut cream?

Life of pie.

*****

the widower

brings a date

Senior’s special

*****

There’s rarely a Margaret Atwood poem that I don’t love, and “They Eat Out” is no exception. The scene is set so well here, the characters alive in a few short lines, and that last stanza is awesome.

The NaPoWriMo prompt today is to write an almanac poem using your own answers to a quick survey. I think this could result in some truly interesting poems, and one I will surely try another, less hectic, day.