Poetry Poetry Bookshelf

A Commonplace Book of Pie

Food Poetry Jane Kenyon Pie Quote

If some people hanker for tearing into turkey on Thanksgiving, others contemplate the cacophony of porcelain stacked in a full sink and the empty table ready to receive a procession of desserts. The homely pumpkin pie doesn’t easily outshine pecan pie all gussied up in its garb of karo laced pecans. One thing is certain, for some reason, the cake and the cookie find no invitation to the table on this day each year. This is one holiday cornered by the commonplace pie.

Lucky for us, this year, we have a guide to deconstruct pie, one personality trait at a time. In Kate Lebo’s book, “A Commonplace Book of Pie,” she alerts the reader to the subtle implications of liking certain pies through prose poetry with pointers on pie-making and a few recipes tacked onto the end of the book. I’m inclined to agree with Jane Kenyon that pie-making truly holds off “autumnal entropy,” something with which we could all use help.

But I would entreaty that this book arrives just in time for other reasons: we all need a diversion to pull into the cheerful family gatherings that like spools of string can unravel so quickly into disarray. Lebo’s poetry is subtle enough that your family members who claim they don’t like poetry or have never read it will be entranced by her clever work.

In “A Commonplace Book of Pie,” which started out as a zine by this Seattle based poet and pie-baker, Lebo paints vignettes of pie enthusiasts that make you want to flip the page and keep reading. We learn that though the woman who serves Rhubarb Custard Pie “has been known to fake orgasms, she would never serve Splenda to guests.” (p. 39) She asks of Cherry Pie, “Which is more American? Processed fruit in explosive syrup, or sweating in the sun while balancing on a slender ladder?” (p. 23). I surmise that you could make a go of reading through the book as you rest between dinner and dessert, making a guessing game of guests as pie eating participant characters in the book. If you try this approach, just wait until you get to Peanut Butter Pie… I sank down into the description for Cranberry Pie deeply enough that I believed I might be back-floating through a cranberry bog and on the other side would be a sumptuous slice of pie waiting for me, the jeweled red sparkling in the sun.

Even her recipe to make pie crust reads more like a poem as she charges that “we are not accountants; math will tell us how many servings, not how to make or serve them. We are pianists. Cut your nails, and if you paint them, make sure the varnish doesn’t flake off and disappear into your dough.” (p 69)

What’s marvelous about Lebo’s book is that she shows how food and poetry can marry together in the printed world, although I would still consider this a poetry book over a cookbook (only six recipes grace its pages) but that’s kind of the point. She endeavors to play the part of tour guide in Pieland, pointing out some of the sights to see and providing tips for us to continue our voyage long after she is gone so that you and I as readers can make up our own figments of pie-induced enthusiasm. The book reads like a piece of local lore you might find in an attic in the deep South. It makes me want to flour down my countertop and cut out the edges for handheld pies. It makes me believe poetry can be for the people- especially the ones who come by it unwittingly at a family table decked out in festivity.

A Commonplace Book of Pie by Kate Lebo
To learn what pie has taught Kate Lebo about writing and other tidbits, visit Jama’s Alphabet Soup.


Food Poetry Poetry

A Message for the Sandwich Board

I will not write the word pumpkin.
I will not see the word pumpkin.
I will not smell it spiced with cinnamon or sage.

No, I will close my eyes to the round, rippled orbs
and ask more from the September sandwich board.
I will ask it for patience and if it presses, time.

I will mock its fealty to capitalism at all costs
even as it shuns the last crops of peaches,
snubs the new bounty of icebox cold plums.

What begins must end. How we speed cycle
trying to grasp immortality. In my hand, a fig,
and in the other hand, a Purple Cherokee

stained green and red that when cut oozes
juice and jelly. No pumpkin can kiss bacon
and lettuce rightly, nor can it confer to marinara

the flavor of a simple San Marzano tomato.
So, please pass on the Pumpkin Spice latte
until the air curls at the edges like the leaves

drying upon their branches. They too will fall
when the light dwindles at work day’s end.
Until then, savor the Sungold, relish the Roma,
Let the Early Girl catch the worm.

Tomato Poem | The Food Poet



Food Photo Poetry Poetry

Tomato Basil Baked Oatmeal Food Poetry

                                                                            get the recipe

Tomato Basil Savory Baked Oatmeal Food Poetry | The Food Poet

Tomato Basil Savory Baked Oatmeal | The Food Poet

Tomato Basil Savory Baked Oatmeal | The Food Poet

Tomato Basil Savory Baked Oatmeal | The Food Poet

Tomato Basil Savory Baked Oatmeal | The Food Poet

Tomato Basil Savory Baked Oatmeal | The Food Poet

Tomato Basil Savory Baked Oatmeal | The Food Poet

Tomato Basil Savory Baked Oatmeal | The Food Poet

Tomato Basil Baked Oatmeal Food Poem | The Food Poet

Tomato Basil Baked Oatmeal Food Poem | The Food Poet

Tomato Basil Savory Baked Oatmeal | The Food Poet

Tomato Basil Savory Baked Oatmeal | The Food Poet

Tomato Basil Baked Oatmeal Food Poetry | The Food Poet


How Poetry Can Make You a Better Food Writer

Poetry and Food: How Poetry Can Make You a Better Food Writer | The Food Poet

The title seems kind of obvious. I can hear you groaning into your computer with an exasperated, “of course Annelies feels this way.” And yet, I’m not alone in my supposition. I reckon that just as good writers happen to be good readers, that does not exclude a snack of poetry for sustenance. Surely there is room next to M.F.K. Fisher, Tamar Adler and Elissa Altman for poetry, and I have a hunch they drink from its waters on occasion. I spent a good deal of time with one of my favorite poets recently (the photo above says it all) in an achingly beautiful place and put this premise to the test.

I promise I will post more on that writing retreat soon, but today, I have a chocolate-covered treat for you in the guise of a guest post over on food writer Monica Bhide’s blog, entitled (how did you know?), “How Poetry Can Make You a Better Food Writer.” You probably already know how gifted Monica is at telling stories. Maybe you know she has a generous spirit and warm demeanor. I learned recently the joy of hearing her laugh- it’s delightfully infectious. Many thanks to Monica for the opportunity to talk about one of my favorite collaborations. If you write about food and you read poetry, check out the post by clicking the link below and leave a comment on her blog answering how you think poetry has made you a better food writer and perhaps whose work has informed yours.


Food Poetry Poetry

Tattooed by Love: Food Poetry on Exhibit

cranberry lassi food poetry at the abbey

Nails in hand, hammer in the other we assess the long wall along the Abbey Coffeehouse, already pocked with the absence of previous nails. Along the muted grey hallway, we measured and marked, then hammered and nailed up the Cranberry Lassi Food Poem.

The day started long and lazy, dead center of Independence Day weekend. We lolled about the house, sipping tea and waking up until the clock forced us out into the beauty of an overcast Bay Area day in July. We drove down the 1, one side sturdy mountain, the other breathless Pacific Ocean surf slapping the cliff. This road is deeply woven into our relationship like the gold bands encircling our ring fingers.

cranberry lassi food poetry at the food poet

A slight rapping of wood on wood came from the backseat as we took a curve quickly, nothing that my balled up jacket stuck in the box couldn’t suppress. In the backseat, two boxes with 21 picture frames in tow propelled us forward to one of our favorite California towns, Santa Cruz.

the abbey santa cruz

During July, two of my food poems, the Cranberry Lassi food poem and the Fennel Parsley Citrus Salad food poem will be hanging at the Abbey Coffeehouse. Put another way, I am the featured artist at the Abbey this month. It’s a surreal thing to see your work out in the world, to actually watch as people engage with it or provide their interpretations.

food poetry exhibit_the abbey santa cruz

In the main front room where walls already are cheerfully checkered with mismatched mirrors, a barista pulls a shot of Verve coffee, its aroma permeating the room. College students and locals don their coffee tables as appendages much like the requisite open laptops. We scooted in between high top tables, doling out apologies to folks seated against the long wall where we would soon hang 13 frames.

Among the people we spoke with, one guy wore a tattoo on his forearm that clearly stated in block letters, LOVE. As I’ve learned every tattoo has a story, and I wanted to learn a bit of Brian’s. So, in spite of being a bit of a gnat buzzing in front of him, I asked.

I wondered aloud if it might be a relationship- a special person, perhaps? He explained quickly that he saw it as a reminder of a spiritual love. He described it as a post-it tattooed on his skin. And just like that, he turned his attention back to his computer screen, plugging his ears with music.

I couldn’t let it go. We measured and spaced out the first eight Fennel Parsley Citrus Salad food poem frames, later affixing the beet purple picture name tags. Afterwards, once we had gotten the hang of it, we hung the remaining five frames of a food poem inspired by a quote of Martin Luther King Jr’s.

the food poet at the abbey santa cruz

We pulled together and scanned the long wall, taking in the photos of oranges fusing into parsley, and fennel. We surveyed our handiwork and found it to be good. We gathered what tools had accompanied us down to Santa Cruz, as we prepared to exit the Abbey and head to lunch with friends. Before leaving, I meandered over to the counter where Brian stood, talking with friends.

“Love. It’s one of the simplest mandates and one of the hardest to enact.”

He stood, nodding, as I talked about how the notion that we cannot drive out hatred with hatred- that only love can do that, compelled to share MLK Jr’s words and then point Brian to the Fennel Parsley Citrus Salad food poem and how it wrestles with the same issue of how do we adequately love our neighbor as ourselves. The golden rule isn’t honed from  a lesser element. For a few more minutes we commiserated, the whine of a cappuccino being frothed in the background as music.

the abbey santa cruz

Should you find yourself in Santa Cruz during July, make a trip over to The Abbey for a latte (or Stumptown cold-brew) and a chance to see food poetry in the flesh. Well, maybe it’s more accurate to say “in print.” I’m pretty ecstatic about hosting my first exhibit of food poems at the Abbey. Each piece is for sale with a portion of proceeds going to the California Food Literacy Center. The show runs through August 2nd, so if you’re local, jot down the Abbey address and check it out.

Poetry Restaurant Poetry

Restaurant Poetry: Volcano Curry


by Annelies Zijderveld


When the coming blanket of fog buffets the sky

like stallions set to flight, an awakening begins

to rise and rumble in my stomach with insistence.


Off we go in search of something hot to head off

the chill that clings to all of our corners. In search

of a Volcano we depart, determined to quash the grey

skies enveloping us in their cold kiss. Upon opening

the door, a rush of heat sweeps us.  You are rote and


I am trite- we recall our orders easily from memory,

“Hot chicken katsu curry with noodles, zucchini

and extra fukujinzuke” tumbles out like a preamble

or perhaps instead “Hot original curry with eggplant”

makes its way from my mouth into an order written

at the register.  Then the server looks from me to you:


“Volcano tomato chicken curry with rice,” you chirp,

your voice escalating in a salivating salutation of

to-go bowls and boxes brimming with our chosen

ingredients. She begins to close the order, as you add,

“Throw in a potato and onion croquette,” expectedly.


As we wait our order to be called, we sit and marvel

at the packed restaurant, the broad white plates with

curry that swims to the outer edges and punches the air.


I try to sneak peeks into the cordoned off area,

through the curtained door to glimpse ingredients

in symphony, instead I catch the cooks’ music:


the tall lean bodies working the line- this one plays

his instrument and thumps a bowl of rice down on

a plate. Another spoons zucchini on the rice, then

passes the plate to a guy waiting, spoon raised as

a slick brown sauce hits the surface, boiled potatoes

and carrots bobbing up against fukujinzuke pickles.


She calls our name. We rise in anticipation of sinking

our chopsticks into the curly crunchy mess and begin

our way home, the curry redolent of hot spice and apple.


Roux clings to udon noodles twirling round my hungry

fork. The katsu crunch is slicked with sauce. Somehow

the container is clean, quickly. As sure as the fog will

roll in, we will once again make our way back to Volcano.

Restaurant Poetry Volcano Japanese Curry The Food Poet

In the Kitchen with Poets Poetry

Poets in the Kitchen: Jeff Friedman

When researching poetry MFA programs and poets I wanted to study with during my MFA, Jeff Friedman was on my short list. I found myself taken with his ability to weave together midrash poetry or narrative. He ended up being my second mentor in school and one I stay in touch with often. Our shared love for food became evident early on in our mentoring relationship as he would describe new recipes he had devised and then later he developed a food, dreaming class to help his students break out of their writing ruts. Join me “In the Kitchen with Poets” as Jeff Friedman speaks to the intersection of food, poetry and the writing life.

in the kitchen with poets

The Food Poet: I know you are a voracious cook. What is your favorite thing to make right now?

Jeff Friedman: My favorite thing to make is this new penne with tomato carrot sauce, my zucchini garam masala soup and my balsamic chicken recipe. These would be my three favorites.


TFP: Mmm. Next time I come to your house, I’d really like to try the Zucchini Garam Masala Soup. Food and poetry have certain commonalities you are teaching in the classroom. How would you describe the poetry of food and your approach to intermingling them in your Eating, Dreaming class?

JF: Food and literature go way back. For example in The Odyssey, almost every place Odysseus goes, there’s some kind of feast or wine. In many of the mythic or epic pieces, there’s usually some feast involved, showing what we eat, how we fight, how we make love.

Of course in the Bible, in the Tanakh, the Jewish Bible, you can see how wine and food are laced throughout the different stories. Food is mentioned quite a bit in the Bible: what the Jews should eat and how they should eat. Throughout the story of David or Solomon, they will tell you what he eats. It’s always been a part of our literatures. I don’t think of them as separate.

You look at a great short story like “The Dead” – it shows what they were eating at this dinner they have regularly every year and Gabriel is coming back for the dinner. I’m thinking also of Proust remembering the Madeleines.

People don’t think about it as starting with food as the subject matter, food appears in a lot of literature. The Jews of course see the act of eating as a blessed experience.  When you’re teaching writing, often times, the focus is on working on certain things like how to work with an image or write a line, so the exercises tend to be writing-oriented.

In my class, most of the students think, “Food? What kind of subject for writing is that?” They’re kind of put out by it. Giving food as the starting point for the exercises like putting a piece of chocolate in your mouth and thinking of what it reminds you of takes your mind off of writing and leads them directly into the fact that the class is ultimately about the pleasure of the senses and exploring the sensuousness of language and breaking away from an A-Z logic of writing a poem. Concentrating on the food gives an experience to take an unselfconscious approach directly into the language.


TFP: Sounds like a fun class. I wish I could take it.

JF: It was actually really fun. We held different international days, like international salad day, international soup day, etc… I divided everybody into groups and they had to cook. They formed a community very quickly. All the groups tried to come in with something really good and make something everyone would like. They also became better cooks. A poet friend loved the idea and is thinking of teaching something similar.


TFP: How would you describe your cooking style and who has influenced it?

JF: Besides my mother, the person who’s been the biggest influence is my closest friend Charna Meyers. She also did the cover of my last book. She’s a great photographer. In the late 80’s was when I really got into it. I had some health issues in 2001 and took over all the cooking in the house since my wife was so busy. I was still on the clumsy side and started trying things out based on what I liked. I would keep adapting until I liked it, just like with the Balsamic Chicken recipe.

I’m an eccentric cook and like to experiment. A lot of it has to do with my limited diet of avoiding dairy and eating minimal legumes, and my wife is vegetarian. When Ross (Gay) comes over, I cook solely vegetarian. I think I’m a student of it.

To learn to cook Indian food, I went into an Asian store in this little mall and asked how to cook lentils. The female owner cooks a lot and cooks all the time and doesn’t go to the Indian restaurants in town because they are too Americanized. She talked about building layers with mustard seeds and cumin seeds until they pop, then adding oil, onions, and turmeric. I went and talked to her, took copious notes and now I make a few Indian dishes. They tasted good the first time and better the next.

With my friend Charna, we have a treadmill recipe club and talk about what recipes we’ve cooked. She has a bad memory and I tend to remember her recipes and she will call me to get the recipes.  I’ve been getting recipes from her and also from cookbooks. We trade and evaluate all the time. Anything I get from her, I change and anything she gets from me, she changes. There’s a woman named Maria in town who worked at a gourmet deli and would also give me advice on cooking. I do a lot of roasting because I like the way vegetables taste roasted.


TFP: If you could have dinner with any chef, who would it be?

JF: I like some of the recipes in Chloe Coscarelli’s book but her bakery goods have won awards. I want to know more about them. I’ve never tasted a good vegan dessert- they’re either too dry or just don’t have a good taste. Supposedly hers are great. I think it’s difficult to limit the ingredients and be able to make cupcakes and brownies that are really tasty. You know I’m a big dessert person… though I’m trying to get a certain amount of sugar out of my diet.

I like Deborah Madison. Her vegetarian cookbook is one I’m using more because I’m trying to cook more vegetarian. Since my wife is vegetarian, I’ve gone to Madison’s book so many times to learn how to cook things so she would be someone I would ask a lot of questions. I would want to sit with Mario Batali and ask him how he makes his amatriciana so good at Lupa. It’s hard to choose just one person, but I’ll go with Mario Batali because I want to learn about that sauce. There are other people I’d like to talk too, but I really like that dish of his.


TFP: If you could make dinner for any poet dead or alive, who would you invite and what would you make for them?

JF: I think I would want to invite Zbigniew Herbert and I would definitiely make him my Curry Zucchini Soup. Louise Fishman, the artist was documenting the creation of the soup and people always really like it. The sure-fire winners are salmon or actually, I would make my broccoli orecchiete, but I can’t make the soup because that’s too green. I would then make a salad with my modified dressing with Boston Red Lettuce and then I would serve my sweet potato soup with roasted pumpkin seeds. I would have to see if he has any health issues.

The Broccoli Orrechiete is essentially a broccoli sauce on orecchiete- it’s kind of spicy and pretty good. The sauce is pureed and folded in. We discovered it in Rome where Colleen (Friedman’s wife) had a grant to go study. When we came back I tried making it- it’s not the same but my sweet potato soup has its own stock- I’m not cheating. I’m getting too obsessive about making my own stock. Soup is really time-consuming. A lot of my friends think I’m crazy. Vegetarian stocks tend to have after-taste and it’s not difficult to make your own stock. It’s got a cleaner taste and holds the flavor nicely.


TFP: You’re reading a book of poetry and stumble upon a poem that inspires you to create a dish. What is the poem and what is the dish?

JF: A lot of times in ancient literature, they had roasted meats in them. I haven’t been inspired too much by literature to cook something, but I became obsessed with shallots. I used to put them in everything I was cooking and then wrote that poem, “Shallot”. A lot of poets have written poems about onions like Naomi Shihab Nye or Szymborska. Wilbur has a famous poem about shallots too. I can’t think of anything I’ve read that’s made me want to cook something.

I wrote a poem about Ross – he was at the house eating all these Athena melons and that inspired me to write a poem. Because I became obsessed with shallots, that inspired me to write a poem about them. When I read essays about cooking, it makes me want to cook but not write about it. Being absorbed in the process of cooking has inspired me to write in a certain way, just as walking so much has created a different kind of movement in my poems. I like the idea of improvising as well as having something written down. There’s a sense of ritual about it like writing a poem. You go to get a cup of coffee and then go to a certain place. Can’t write? So, then you move. Then you settle down. With cooking it’s a matter of how do you line things up.


TFP:  When you think of food and poetry, do any specific poems come to mind? What are some of the books you require for your class?

JF: I’ve written a lot of poems about food myself, like those in my book Working in Flour.  Neruda has all those wonderful odes- like “Ode to Watermelon,” “Ode to Salt,” “Ode to an Artichoke” and “Ode to French Fries.”  “How to Stuff a Pepper” is a good example of a poem that speaks about food and sex. I’m sure if you look in many poems you’ll find food.

I think of Sylvia Plath, Louise Glück. I do different things with my class like having them write a poem that unfolds like an onion and then show them a series of onion poems. An orange is at the center of “The Mercy” by Philip Levine where his grandmother eats an orange for the first time and “A Simple Truth” has a potato at the center of it.

The anthology I use for the food part of the course is Sustenance and Desire, a food lover’s anthology of sensuality and humor.” This anthology also contains Naomi Shihab Nye’s “Lunchtime Poem”. I like Sherman Alexie’s poem “13/16”, Szymborska’s poem “The Onion”, Simic’s “Cabbage”, and Derek Walcott’s “Sunday Lemons,” as well as a wonderful poem called “The Creation Story” by Natasha Sajé.

Another book we use is A Literary Feast with a chapter from a A Moveable Feast by Hemingway and talks about being hungry. It also features Peter Mayle, M.F.K. Fisher, and Virginia Woolf. I have a lot of readings that I have compiled on my own. I’m not just teaching poetry, but also teaching short fiction and personal narrative essays.


TFP: Do you ever find yourself influenced by food when writing poetry? Are there any foods or drinks that are part of your writing process?

JF: I write early in the morning so I’ll have some oatmeal or warmed up soup and then finish it up with a chocolate chip cookie. If I don’t have a chocolate chip cookie or a piece of flourless chocolate cake or brownie in the morning, I can’t sit down to write. That’s really true. I have to have just a nibble to sit down to write. The poem “Working in Flour” comes from a stint of mine in baking.


TFP: Do you find yourself writing mostly in the mornings, days or evenings?

JF: Mornings. Early morning. Although for a while when I write fictional pieces, I switch to afternoons.


TFP: What are you working on right now?

JF: I’m working on a book of fables and mini tales that are somewhere between prose poems and micro stories. Lately, I’ve incorporated biblical themes into some of the pieces.


TFP: What books are keeping you turning the pages right now?

JF: I’m rereading and love this book by Augusto Monterroso called The Black Sheep and Other Fables and Rebecca Solnit’s Walking as I am getting ready to teach a class on walking and writing. It helps me work out problems when I’m walking and things come to me when I’m walking. I like this idea Walter Benjamin has of getting lost when walking. I’m getting ready to read his book, One Way Street and Other Essays.

There’s so much literature on walking – next I intend to read Geoff Nicholson’s History of Walking. It goes along with the way my mind works too. I’m still in the thinking stages of the class so I’m reading, making a list and making things up as it comes together. Bruno Schulz involves stories with walks and also James Joyce in The Dubliners of walks in the city. I just finished rereading Lunch Poems by O’Hara. I’m also rereading Fitzgerald’s magnificent translation of The Odyssey and a book over and over again by Suniti Namjoshi,The Blue Donkey Fables.


Jeff Friedman Poet


Jeff Friedman is the author of five collections of poetry: Working in Flour (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2011) Black Threads (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2007), Taking Down the Angel (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2003), Scattering the Ashes (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 1998) and The Record-Breaking Heat Wave (BkMk Press-University of Missouri-Kansas City, 1986). His next book, “The Pretenders” will be published by Carnegie Mellon University Press in 2014. His poems and translations have been published widely in national and international literary journals and anthologies, including American Poetry Review, Poetry, The Antioch Review, Maggid, Ars-Interpres, Cardinal Points, New England Review, Margie, 5 AM, Agni Online, Natural Bridge, Ontario Review, Poetry International, Prairie Schooner and The New Republic. He has won two individual artist grants from the New Hampshire State Arts Council, The Carnegie Mellon University Press Open Competition, The Editor’s Prize from The Missouri Review and the Milton Dorfman Poetry Prize. He has had residencies at the MacDowell Colony, Virginia Center for the Creative Arts the Vermont Studio Center and Yaddo. Since 1994, he has taught at Keene State College, where he and poet William Doreski cofounded the Keene State Writers’ Conference. Jeff Friedman lives in West Lebanon, New Hampshire with artist Colleen Randall and their dog.


Broccoli Breakfast Tostadas

Broccoli Breakfast Tostadas


Broccoli gets passed over

so easily, perhaps florets

for breakfast don’t appeal.

It’s time to reconsider the

crown for the morning meal.


Break it up with a sharp

knife into bite-size bits.

Toss in fresh lemon zest

and garlic-infused olive oil

to convince an ornery guest.


Start with a humble tostada,

It transforms from tortilla

rounding its back with firm

resolve. Next come the beans,

their assembly questions the term


refried. White beans blend with

lemon, browned garlic, and spice.

Aleppo pepper and sumac turn the

pale hue peach and imbue a bit of

tart to play off the smashed garlic.


Now, smear bean spread on

the tostada, scatter its surface

with roasted broccoli bits and

stack julienne radish for crunch.

Pickle your radishes if you can


stand waiting. That tinge of sour pulls

it all together as your tostada takes

shape on an emerging colorful plate.

Protein, veggies, whole grains too,

tostadas might emerge in a spate


of recipes with no lack of application.

Back to our broccoli breakfast tostadas,

dab on spicy sambal oelek for heat.

And if desired, add a dollop of creamy

labneh on top for a mid-morning treat.


Not convinced? Most of it can be done

ahead. The day before: toast tortillas

into tostadas, make the bean spread,

slice radishes (or quick pickle them!)

and you, my friend are one step ahead.


What remains is to roast the broccoli

and assemble the morning of brunch.

You should score points for flavor,

color and comments from guests like,

This is a brunch that I want to savor.


For a traditional recipe write-up, 

 check out this broccoli brunch-off. 



Food Photo Poetry Poetry

Ensalada Gremolata Food Photo Poetry

– for Jacob –

Ensalada Gremolata The Food Poet

Ensalada Gremolata The Food Poet

Ensalada Gremolata The Food Poet

Ensalada Gremolata The Food Poet

Ensalada Gremolata The Food Poet

Ensalada Gremolata The Food Poet

Ensalada Gremolata The Food Poet

Ensalada Gremolata The Food Poet

Ensalada Gremolata The Food Poet

Ensalada Gremolata The Food Poet

Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Pesto Polenta Breakfast Bake Food Poetry

Food Photo Poetry Poetry

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad Food Poetry

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” – Martin Luther King Jr.

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad

Parsley Fennel Citrus Salad

Food Photo Poetry Poetry

Cranberry Lassi Food Photo Poetry

Cranberry Lassi Food Poetry - The Food Poet

Cranberry Lassi Food Poetry - The Food Poet

Cranberry Lassi Food Poetry - The Food Poet

Cranberry Lassi Food Poetry - The Food Poet

Cranberry Lassi Food Poetry - The Food Poet

Cranberry Lassi Food Poetry - The Food Poet

Cranberry Lassi Food Poetry - The Food Poet

Cranberry Lassi The Food Poet