Welcome to where I am, where my kitchen's always messy, a pot's (or a poet) always about to boil over, a dog is always begging to be fed. Drafts of poems on the counter. Windows filled with leaves. Wind. Clouds moving over the mountains. If you like poetry, books, and music--especially dog howls when a siren unwinds down the hill-- you'll like it here.


MY NEW AUTHOR'S SITE, KATHRYNSTRIPLINGBYER.COM, THAT I MYSELF SET UP THROUGH WEEBLY.COM, IS NOW UP. I HAD FUN CREATING THIS SITE AND WOULD RECOMMEND WEEBLY.COM TO ANYONE INTERESTED IN SETTING UP A WEBSITE. I INVITE YOU TO VISIT MY NEW SITE TO KEEP UP WITH EVENTS RELATED TO MY NEW BOOK.


MY NC POET LAUREATE BLOG, MY LAUREATE'S LASSO, WILL REMAIN UP AS AN ARCHIVE OF NC POETS, GRADES K-INFINITY! I INVITE YOU TO VISIT WHEN YOU FEEL THE NEED TO READ SOME GOOD POEMS.

VISIT MY NEW BLOG, MOUNTAIN WOMAN, WHERE YOU WILL FIND UPDATES ON WHAT'S HAPPENING IN MY KITCHEN, IN THE ENVIRONMENT, IN MY IMAGINATION, IN MY GARDEN, AND AMONG MY MOUNTAIN WOMEN FRIENDS.




Saturday, March 21, 2009

Last Things: A Culinary Challenge



(The Last Piece of Cherry Pie)

Help me finish this recipe! You can comment in poetry. Or prose. I'll finish the poem with what you tell me.


The Last

butternut squash and the last jar
of peaches, left behind
on my counter, awaiting the rapture
of culinary art, what to do with them?



Peaches already gone
brown round the edges?
A soup pot of chicken broth,
bag of old onions,

green peppers, and stacked
on a shelf my collection of spices,
coriander and turmeric,
that catchall called “curry,”

paprika that hardly deserves
the name. Not hot as hellfire
Hungarian that waits in the fridge,


Eros brand, brought back
from Budapest....What’s this? A dib
and a dab of god knows
how ancient Thai curry sauce.
At the back of the freezer

compartment, a bag of last
summer’s last apples.
From all of this, somebody
tell me what I can concoct.

_____________

4 comments:

Vicki Lane said...

Hmmm . . . I'd roast the butternut squash and onions and drained peaches together with olive oil and salt. Serve them languishing atop a bed of snowy rice, and anointed with a curry sauce, made with onions and the chicken broth.

Put the green peppers--I'm assuming fresh and crisp -- with lettuce for a salad - glistening with virginal olive oil and a dash of herbal vinegar, crowned by a sprinkle of sea salt -- Fleur de Sel, for choice.

And turn those old frozen apples into hot apple sauce, fragrant with nutmeg and cinnamon (not too much) -- lavish it with thick cool heavy cream.

Or you could make soup.

Kathryn Stripling Byer said...

Oh my lord, Vicki, what a feat. This is a culinary delight, a poem in and of itself. No need for line breaks. I'll tell you later what I did with it.

Kathryn Stripling Byer said...

I meant "feast," but this is a "feat" too, of kitchen magic.

doris diosa said...

Use what can be used.
Savor eclectic taste.
Fresh is good; vintage sometimes better.
Fruits and vegetables in any season
seasoned to suit.
The rest - seriously - toss.

How's that for a (tongue in cheek) suggestion? What i like about it is, *you* made a poem out of refrigerator contents!!!!! Who'd a thunk it?

Good Morning!