Cooking

A recipe is a love poem
A love to share with our circle.
To cook is to recite its words
To share is to satiate the soul.

A freestyle is cooking by ear
A recipe of visceral birth
With some experimental jest
Pursuing verses of mirth

A translation is cooking explored
An expression of human taste
Cultural colors dance close
Giving us another way to recite

A cookbook is an anthology
A book of time tested poems.
Embody what words labor to
With food that has pleased many.

Whether a full course meal
Or a simple hot plate
An epic or small free verse
Cooking, it is more than just food.

I recently moved to Santa Barbara, CA. The weather in SoCal is absolutely beautiful. Sunny days with cool breezes and cold, crisp nights with stars shining through the black sky. And the women here... god damn! It's been a tough 4 months, moving on after the breakup with my girlfriend of almost 5 years (my ass got cheated on, lied to and kicked to the curb). But the new environment with all of its pretty things is accelerating moving on.

I'm still coming up with food ideas. Top secret crepe dessert will hopefully make it to the menu of my parents' restaurant. Lets just say it involves ginger. I made a haute egg muffin (English muffin, a poached egg, sliced Italian salami, brie cheese, sun dried tomatoes, a thin slice of apple) for breakfast. Parents didn't hate it which is a thumbs up. I cook dinner almost every night for me and my sister, so I can continue to experiment with food.

I also got a garden started in the backyard. The coastal weather will hopefully bring in some good crops. Pictures of everything! will be posted some day later.