Cooking and writing are two of my favourite activities. Both are creative processes and both end with the release of the finished product, allowing others to interpret it. These endings do, however, display one key difference: reading a book is an individual activity, often months or years after its creation, whereas a dish is usually shared immediately.
Maybe that's why I love Antonio Gamoneda's poem, Sabor a legumbres, so much. A terrific portrayal of a family meal, it finishes as follows:
...Yo siento
en el silencio machacado
algo maravilloso:
cinco seres humanos
comprender la vida a través del mismo sabor.
...I feel
in the crushed silence
something wonderful:
five human beings
understanding life through the same taste.
I can't imagine life without the enjoyment of food, its preparation and the sharing of it. So many specific moments and people are intrinsically linked in my memory with a certain dish. My poetry often reflects this love of everything culinary, bringing cooking and writing together in a celebration of each other.
FHP18 MO18 GPH18 Leave My Son Alone I sat in your caravan, You poured me
some tea. Told me “Hold out your hand Let’s see what I can see.” You set it
back d...
Matthew, thank you for claiming cooking as a creative job because most of us (especially men ;)) think that it's a very simple and non various task of women but it's not that actually. Thanks for a wonderful finish by placing of Gamoneda's poem.
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