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August 3, 2006
Upon Making Falafel-Three Sonnets-An Experiment in Researched Poetry
Like a hundred other things, I came late
To falafel, like modern Hebrews did
In that great breathing in to forge a state,
Fast taking them up, as if in a bid
For credibility, hoping chick peas
And spice and bread might feed a dream, a wish
To be at home, at peace, within the East,
Make memories of borscht, geflite fish.
So they learned from brother Mizrahim,
More distantly from Arab brother foes,
The tricks to soak and mash and fry, to thin
With lemons tahini sauce. Oh, if woes
Could be forgotten over meals, I know
The wonder of falafel might make it so.
________________
I have not had to soak and mash, a mix
Makes short work of tasks that once took a day.
I wonder whether I will ever fix
My hours to learn from process, to be paid
With well-won satisfaction and with taste
Of long ages. But even now as I
Lift up my knife to dice with worried haste
I taste a piece of cucumber and sigh.
Feeling its coolness on my tongue, I dream
Of coolness only half-remembered now,
In evening, in a Garden, near a stream.
I wake, and read my box and wonder how
A food that's kosher, vegan, and halal
Could do anything but unite us all.
_________________
It is really not all that hard to see
As I strain grease from well-browned batter
Why it is that these bring delight and glee.
It's grease! It's batter! You see those matter
In culture after culture. Think funnel cake.
Think Najavo fry bread and pakoras.
They all take work, but aren't that hard to make
They're market treats that take on even more
Wonder when made at home and children press,
Impatient around their mothers, like pups
Outside Old South kitchens. I clean my mess
And think of harder things, of shattered cups
And shattered lives and dreams. It's hard to keep
My thoughts on falafel while Beirut weeps.
___________________________________________________
Some reference articles. Fascinating reading.
*A History of the Mideast in the Humble Chick Pea
*Israeli Cooking at Epicurious.com
*Falafel (Wikipedia)
____________________________________________________
Addendum
The mother whom I hovered impatiently around while she baked has now been at home with Jesus twenty years to the day. I will post a picture tomorrow...
...here you go.
Norma Lee (Bodenbach) Das
Random Poetry | By jackdas | 9:55 PM
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Comments
Neil, Thanks for sharing the picture of your mom. Kind eyes. How amazing that now she gets to look into Jesus' kind eyes forever. Blessings brother, as you find yourself hurting in the Shadowlands.
Posted by: Heidi Vincent at August 4, 2006 11:11 AM
Your mom looks so loving. You must miss her a great deal...
Wonderful poems! I really enjoyed them. Also thank's making those yummy falafals for house-church. It seems they became food for thought as well as body.
I was telling Heidi and Meg, I know we just started this social justice group, but I want to be part of a secret poetry club. It would make me so happy. Maybe we'll have to add this component to the social justice group!
Posted by: Laura at August 4, 2006 3:06 PM
