She says,
"You oughta quit this whole job thing
and go to cooking school. Wouldn't you love
to make a living doing this?"
I've just served her collard greens
I slow cooked in a cast iron pot,
soothed with butter until the leaves
fold like gentle yoga.
She says it's the closest thing to Georgia
she's tasted west of Texas and north
of the Mason-Dixon line.
And I can tell by the way her eyes
slip towards the window
that her memories of home
don't warm her like mine do,
but there's something to be said
for proper collard greens.
I've never cooked in a restaurant.
Never felt my feet grip rubber mats
or said "order up!" in anything but fun.
I've never worked a line or station,
but I've seen the dance they talk about.
My kitchen fits one comfortably,
but two people who know what they're doing
can make dinner prep look like
a game of Mousetrap, or a Rube-Goldberg machine –
every bowl and body part set just in time to receive
the egg yolks, the soaked beans, the cream sauce near to breaking.
The bowls are mismatched and heavy,
and we make do with some broken tools,
but when I serve you something from my kitchen,
I want to know where it takes you when you taste it.
It’s no secret that I sing to my onions.
The nicest man I ever cooked for
swore he could taste melodies in my soup.
I want to cook like it’s homesick medicine.
I could never get my kitchen to smell like my grandma’s,
until one day, someone said her grandma fried her onions
dry before adding the oil. As the slices hit the hot pan,
the scarred kitchen table
and her soft yellow apron
bloomed from my stove like a postcard.
I’m not sure they teach you these things
in cooking school.
So, no. I’m not going to make a living
of these acts of soup and birthday cake
any more than I’ll make a living doing poems
on a stage. I’ll keep my kitchen built for one.
But you can come over any time
and I’ll offer you a bite.
About the Creator
Dane BH
By day, I'm a cog in the nonprofit machine, and poet. By night, I'm a creature of the internet. My soul is a grumpy cat who'd rather be sleeping.
Top Story count: 17
Check out my Vocal Spotlight and my Vocal Podcast!
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.