Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Proboscis Prime

image from freeart.com

Proboscis Prime

“To recognize bullshit, nose is better than ear.”
--Toba Beta.

For me,               the titan of snuggle smells
       has always been connected
               to food and taste.

My mother baked bread weekly.
On Baking Day,
we three kids would rush
home from school,
and as we opened the door
the essence of freshly baked bread
would waft into our drooling faces.

When Dad arrived home from work,
she would place a steaming loaf
of bread, fresh out of the oven,
onto a colorful dish towel
in the middle of the table;
surrounded by butter, honey and jams.

She allowed us
to tear off huge hot hunks
and slather it with goodies.
The five of us would devour
that first loaf of the week,
and dinner came late that night.

I loved her chili too,
which she would let simmer for hours
while she sprinkled chili pepper
into it. She served it out of
the big cooking pot, and we
would add cut onions 
and shredded cheese.

Simmering meat tops the list,
steaks, roasts or ribs,
cooked on the deck
or grilled in the oven.
The biggest thrill of all
was Saturday mornings
when Mom would fry up
a couple of pounds of bacon,
and a big pile of French Toast
that had been soaked
in eggs, milk, and vanilla.

A myriad of favorite meals
inhabit my recall--
childish choices that colored
my tastes for a lifetime.
To this day, I have never found
anyone who could make
potato salad like
my mother’s.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub


sarah said...

There's nothing like food to remind you of home. Those childhood tastes carry us through. I love the description of that first loaf of bread - there's nothing quite as good.

brudberg said...

This is so rich with scents... and certainly food is there, but at our home there was not a lot of great cooking... I cook way better than my mother ever did (and my father's taste in food still give me shivers)...

Grace said...

I am so hungry right now reading your poem Glenn. Yummy with that freshly baked bread, chili and potato salad. Yes, nothing can compare to those delicious foods prepared out of love and care.

Kim M. Russell said...

My mother and grandmother baked pies and tarts but never bread - my husband does that now. We haven't had shop-bought bread for months and he's getting so good at it. I love the smell of bread baking in the oven and you've evoked that so well in your poem, Glenn. I especially enjoyed the lines:
'She allowed us
to tear off huge hot hunks
and slather it with goodies'.
The French toast and potato salad had me drooling!

Alison H said...

How fortunate to have these wonderful memories and how good that bread must have been.XXX

Frank Hubeny said...

Nice reminder of freshly baked bread. I used to be the bread maker although my current diet no longer permits any grains.

tonispencer said...

Sounds like a wonderful time! Fresh warm bread is a sensual delight. I love baking bread for us. I actually make a pull apart break for us to pull off and dunk into softened butter. A meal in its own.

indybev said...

So amazing that scents enfold so many memories of food, which always seems to take us back home and mother. Absolutely nothing smells better than freshly baked bread!!

Gina said...

these are foods that only Mama can make best and right. thank you for sharing these scent laden memories, you have me longing for my mother's specialty, a thick coconut based curry dish she would cook every weekend. my favourite part of your poem was the 3 kids drooling and then breaking off chunks of bread to slather with a choice of butter or jam or honey, that was absolutely poetry from the heart.

Unknown said...

Okay, now I'm hungry. Also, all this talk of Mom's that slave over the stove all day is making me feel guilty - pretty sure my kids haven't experienced this. We were lucky.

Mary Hood said...

Oh yes, you take me back. I grew up entirely on home baked bread, as my mother sold it. Nothing compares to mom's food!

lynn__ said...

Our Saturday morning fare was my Dutch mother's "pannekoeken" and bacon! Love the smell of home-raised steaks on the grill as well. I really should go back to baking bread... so many delicious memories in this, Glenn :)

Dwight L. Roth said...

It is amazing that no one can make it as good as mom can!~ Nice!