poetry / culinary poetics
The Ultimate Joy is More Salty than Sweet
salt the steward
i peek through the crumbly macadamia crust
a dark red piece of umami calls~~
past the Perigord black aroma
plays the familiar preserved pork
our cook brought home one childhood year~~
commanding. dangling. fat glistening
from salt. by the kitchen window. her ritual
once a year
fennel. cumin. cinnamon bark~~
bayleaf. dark soy. white rice wine~~
glorious in prime strip~~smoked in pomelo
peel and peanut shells. jubilant.
she looks to her neighbor. a nod.
fellowship. cajoling. good news parading
once a year
once they saved these only for teachers
and elders who needed nutrition. and fat
lacking in days they worked. mom mused
as bits of umami bursted in six little mouths.
once they saved these for Confucius.
three thousand students offering
respect
and salted joy~~
once a year
translucent golden treacle~~
dark honeyed savoriness~~mmmmm…
finely diced now
i mean finely~~one-eighth inch~~
pairing robust sun-dried shrimps~~
emulsified salted duck egg yolk~~
moistens petite gooey glutinous-rice cushions
honest stone-pestle pounded
warming stomachs in
howling wintry winds
once a year
life’s essential. crowns all tastes
nourishes skin. softens blocks
directs qi to to kidneys (oh yes, important)~~
anchors and settles the mind.
salt~~
salted pork? fear not, puritanicals.
even Buddha recommended meat broth
for ailments curing.
it’s immorality, not meat-eating, impurity makes.
more than once a year
perfect balance~~a perfect bite~~
source of joy! steward of the earth~~
aroma filling nostrils. umami filling hunger.
two strips of salted pork
in the kitchen window dangling~~
my childhood eyes in wonder staring~~
incongruent in the city
a large family once
held together by salt
once a year
© Pseu Pending (Seu) 2024
