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via Chris Cavill

Have you ever loved a food so much you wanted to inhabit it?

I guess there’s truth in the saying, “Home is where the cacao is.” :)

L.A. Burdick’s Pavé Glacé : bricks of hazelnut, saffron, dark chocolate, cocoa butter and butter: (via NY City Woman)

HOME SWEET HOME

by Kate Bingham

I need a chocolate bar I can live with,
nothing too big, a red-brick biscuit base, perhaps,
south-facing, on a quiet, tree-lined residential street
where parking late at night won’t be a problem.

Nothing too crumbly either. I don’t want
to be sweeping up bits of cornice all weekend
and pestering the surveyor with each new crack
in the milky bar matt emulsion shell.

It’s got to be the sort of place I can forget about,
with cocoa solids minimum 65 per cent
and nougat foundation limed with soya lecithin
cement and bourneville guttering

no matter what the cost because you can’t price
peace of mind and that means no original features,
nothing too fancy, nothing architect-designed.
There’s only me, I know exactly what I’m looking for,

not space so much as surface area, a honey-comb interior,
with wafer walls and butterscotch parquet
leading from room to room, each mouthful lighter,
sweeter than the one before and breathed, not tasted,

like a puff of icing sugar. Coming home
will be a hit, a score. I’ll drop my hand-bag in the hall,
tie back my hair, lie down and lick the floor.

~ from Cohabitation (Seren Books, 1998)

*   *   *

It’s always a treat to “discover” a new-to-me poet, and Kate Bingham’s winsome and witty verse was just what I needed to chase away my cabin fever and winter blues. (When in doubt, think brown, and don’t be afraid to cross over to the dark side.)

After nibbling on this poem, I began to fantasize about the choco-cabin of my dreams.

Hmmm, something warm and cozy,

via SDJW

all furnishings made of the finest Belgian chocolate:

Chocolate room by sculptor Elena Kliment via Daily Mail

Some people like to wear their lampshades, I like to eat mine.

What’s a home without tasty flowers?

I must have a bottomless chocolate teapot that pours and pours all day,

via Oddetorium

and good quality flatware. Why just lick your spoons, when you can lick your knives and forks too?

Herdmar Oslo-Chocolate Mirror via Pickard

What else? A nice old-fashioned rotary phone in case I need to order take-out or call Mr. Firth. For any robo-calls or annoying telemarketers, I’d eat the receiver.

Chocolate and Raspberry Telephone via Afternoon Crumbs

Yes, a good tool kit to tinker and fix,

via WorthaShare

and a piano (I can play Schumann’s “The Happy Chocolate Farmer” by heart)!

via Fresh Ideen

Oh yes, this is where I’d sleep (and dream about mountains of dark sea salt caramels).

via Jean Chow/flickr

Mr. Cornelius would sleep here:

via bed toppings for sleepy heads

Each morning I’d hop out of bed, slip into something comfortable,

via WorthaShare

click my heels together,

via NewsTimes

turn on my laptop, then write the tastiest blog post ever, bar none.

via Unique Rishta

Now, you may eat this post, if you like, along with a Mississippi Mud bar:

procured by Mr. Cornelius

 

Tell me, where do you live?

*   *   *

poetryfriday180Poet and Author Robyn Campbell is hosting today’s Roundup. Check out the full menu of poetic goodness being served up in the blogosphere this week. Hope you find the chocolate bar of your dreams!

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Copyright © 2015 Jama Rattigan of Jama’s Alphabet Soup. All rights reserved.

“Dream as if you’ll live forever. Live as if you’ll die today.” ~ James Dean

—————————————-

Every year, Seattle-based author/illustrator Julie Paschkis attends a big neighborhood party hosted by her sister Jan and husband Greg, where family and friends gather to decorate eggs and eat lots of delicious food.

Their eggs, Ukrainian pysanky, are decorated with patterns of beeswax and layers of dye, and are part of a longstanding folk art tradition that honors the Sun and welcomes Spring. Julie’s new picture book  P. Zonka Lays An Egg (Peachtree, 2015), which officially hits shelves this week (!), was inspired by these marvelous egg-decorating parties, and is, in a word, GORGEOUS.

P. Zonka herself is no ordinary hen. Unlike her clucky friends Maud, Dora and Nadine, she’s a not a regular egg layer, preferring to spend her days gazing at the wonders of the natural world. Much to the bewilderment of the other hens, who think she’s either daft or just plain lazy, P. Zonka is enthralled by soft dark moss, the deep blue of the sky, pale mornings, and the shining centers of dandelions.

(click to enlarge)

(click to enlarge)

After much pestering, urging and coaxing by the other hens, P. Zonka finally decides to give egg laying a try — and the result is well beyond any could have imagined — in a word, SPECTACULAR!

Continue Reading »

Put on your aprons and dancing shoes, it’s time to SALSA!

So pleased to see another yummy book in Jorge Argueta’s popular bilingual Cooking Poem Series. Previously, Jorge treated us to Sopa de frijoles/Bean Soup (2009), Arroz con leche/Rice Pudding (2010), Guacamole (2012), and Tamalitos (2013). Mmmmm!

Now, with Salsa (Groundwood Books, 2015), illustrated by Pura Belpré winner Duncan Tonatiuh, Argueta infuses his lyrical, lip-smacking recipe with savory musical instruments, lively rhythms, a wealth of sensory details, and just the right amount of spice to make readers crave more.

(click to enlarge)

A young boy first describes the molcajete, a type of stone bowl dating back to the time of the ancient Aztec, Mayan, and Nahua peoples used to grind tomatoes, corn, chilies, vegetables and spices. He mentions how every weekend his family uses their molcajete to make salsa while they sing and dance.

Before proceeding, he and his sister “play” the ingredients from their very own “salsa orchestra”:

I am ready with four tomatoes.
They are bongos and kettledrums.
My onion is a maraca.
Cloves of garlic are trumpets,
and the cilantro is the orchestra conductor
with his shaggy, green hair.

*

Ya tengo listos cuatro tomates.
Son bongos y timbales.
La cebolla es una maraca.
Los ajos son trompetas,
y el cilantro un director de orquesta
con su pelo verde todo despeinado.

Continue Reading »

hotTEA of the week: sting

“I don’t drink coffee I take tea my dear/ I like my toast done on the side . . . “

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