There’s no rhyme, but there is a reason for today’s story: We’re celebrating poetry, an art form that deserves better than merely being relegated to English lit classes.
The Hungry Ear: Poems of Food & Drink, an anthology edited by poet Kevin Young, showcases such diverse talents as Irishmen William Butler Yeats and Seamus Heaney, passionate feminist Adrienne Rich, and Beat poet Allen Ginsberg.
Even actor Rick Moranis is represented; his poem, titled “My Days Are Numbered,” tells of owning “sixty-eight takeout menus from four restaurants” and also “one hundred and sixteen soy sauce packets.”
in hot iron
with grated ginger,
rice wine,
and a little oil
of sesame, served
with boiled
jasmine rice, cures
the malaise
of long, fluorescent
weekdays
spent
in the city
for money.
— from “Four Sonnets About Food,” by Adrienne Su, as appears in Eat, Drink, and Be Merry: Poems About Food and Drink
If a poem is about eating, cooking, or even longing for food, it has found a seat at the table in this book.
“Remembering Kitchens” by Thylias Moss, a native of Cleveland and professor emerita at the University of Michigan, is included in the collection. The poem offers a beautiful image of cakes as “round tables with white butter cloths swirled on.” And Ms. Moss also references a Toledo icon as she reflects upon family members ”toasting with cranberry water in Libbey glasses,” vessels worthy of a special meal.
Jane Kenyon, in “Eating the Cookies,” recounts the sad work of cleaning out the house after a loved one has passed away, sorting through a life and packing up every tidbit and crumb of that person’s existence. “Each time I emptied a drawer or shelf,” she writes, “I permitted myself to eat one” — cookies that had been sent to the deceased by a cousin who, “knowing about her diverticulitis, left out the nuts, so the cookies weren’t entirely to my taste ....”
Another collection — Eat, Drink, and Be Merry: Poems About Food and Drink, edited by Peter Washington — includes such diverse pieces as May Sarton’s “A Glass of Water,” Ben Jonson’s “Inviting a Friend to Supper,” a work titled “Peas” by an anonymous poet, and Li Po’s “Drinking Alone.”
From these books, three poems inspired the recipes below.
The third section of “Four Sonnets About Food,” by Adrienne Su, addresses the role of cooking as a form of respite at the end of a long work week, in a setting far from the stressful city. Preparing a simple dinner offers creative freedom and escape from the constraints of doing a presumably routine, dead-end office job. You can practically hear the sizzling of the scallops, smell the pungent garlic and ginger, and inhale the perfumed fragrance of the jasmine rice.
“Ode to Pork,” by The Hungry Ear’s editor, Kevin Young, confronts the love-hate relationship with this notorious meat rejected by vegetarians and several faith communities and banned by doctors in some forms (bacon, of course, most notably).
But that which is forbidden becomes oh, so tempting. The desire, the attempted resistance, the inevitable succumbing, the muddled mix of giddiness and guilt — practically an addiction, like a bad relationship that you just can’t break free of.
I wouldn’t be here
without you. Without you
I’d be umpteen
pounds lighter & a lot
less alive. You stuck
round my ribs even
when I treated you like a dog
dirty, I dare not eat.
I know you’re the blues
because loving you
may kill me — but still you
rock me down slow
as hamhocks on the stove.
Anyway you come
fried, cued, burnt
to within one inch
of your life I love. Babe,
I revere your every
nickname — bacon, chitlin,
crackling, sin.
Some call you murder,
shame’s step-sister —
then dress you up
& declare you white
& healthy, but you always
come back, sauced, to me.
Adam himself gave up
a rib to see yours
piled pink beside him.
Your heaven is the only one
worth wanting —
you keep me all night
cursing your four-
letter name, the next
begging for you again.
In Louis Simpson’s “Chocolates,” the power of food to break down barriers is demonstrated by a banal, but passionate, discussion of fillings for candies; each of us has a favorite, after all. The topic offers a literary celebrity made uncomfortable by his guests’ adulation an opportunity to divert attention from himself, allows the group to find commonality, and removes any sense of social hierarchy. Chocolate is universal.
Once some people were visiting Chekhov.
While they made remarks about his genius
the master fidgeted. Finally
he said, ‘Do you like chocolates?’
They were astonished, and silent.
He repeated the question,
whereupon one lady plucked up her courage
and murmured shyly, ‘Yes.’
‘Tell me,’ he said, leaning forward,
light glinting from his spectacles,
‘what kind? The light, sweet chocolate
or the dark, bitter kind?’
The conversation became general.
They spoke of cherry centers,
of almonds and Brazil nuts.
Losing their inhibitions
they interrupted one another.
For people may not know what they think
about politics in the Balkans,
or the vexed question of men and women,
but everyone has a definite opinion
about the flavor of shredded coconut.
Finally someone spoke of chocolates filled with liqueur,
and everyone, even the author of Uncle Vanya,
was at a loss for words.
As they were leaving he stood by the door
and took their hands.
In the coach returning to Petersburg
they agreed that it had been a most
unusual conversation.
With any luck, these lines have induced a hunger — for pork, for scallops, for chocolates.
And also for more poetry.
Ginger Scallops with Chinese Greens
2 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
1½ tablespoons finely chopped fresh ginger
1 tablespoon finely chopped garlic
1 scallion, chopped
1 pound scallops
1 tablespoon rice wine
2 teaspoons light soy sauce
1 teaspoon sugar
Salt
Freshly ground white pepper
2 tablespoons thinly sliced garlic
1½ pounds bok choi, cut into shreds
2 teaspoons sesame oil
Jasmine rice, for serving
Heat a wok or large frying pan over high heat. Add 1 tablespoon of the vegetable oil; when it is slightly smoking, add the ginger, garlic, and scallion and stir-fry for 10 seconds. Immediately add the scallops and sear for 30 seconds per side.
Add the rice wine, soy sauce, sugar, salt, and pepper. Continue to stir-fry for 2 minutes, then remove the scallops from the wok with any sauce; set aside.
Wipe the wok clean, add the remaining 1 tablespoon vegetable oil and heat over high heat. When it is slightly smoking, add the sliced garlic and stir-fry for 10 seconds. Add the bok choi and stir-fry until the greens have wilted a little.
Return the scallops to the wok and continue to stir-fry for 3 minutes. Now add the sesame oil and stir-fry for another minute. Serve over the prepared jasmine rice.
Yield: 2 generous servings.
Source: Adapted from Ken Hom, bbc.co.uk.
Bacon BBQ Pork Chops
4 slices bacon
4 6-ounce pork chops, 1 inch thick
4 tablespoons barbecue sauce
½ cup beer
Wrap one strip of bacon around the edge of each pork chop; secure with wooden toothpicks. Mix together barbecue sauce and beer.
Heat a skillet over medium-high heat. One by one, hold up the chops with tongs to sear the bacon on all sides. Set chops into the skillet and cook until the internal temperature reaches 160F, 4 to 5 minutes per side. Brush sauce onto the chops and cook another minute per side.
Yield: 4 servings.
Source: Adapted from porkbeinspired.com.
Chocolate Coconut Almond Candies
1¾ cups powdered sugar
1¾ cups sweetened flaked coconut
1 cup sliced almonds, chopped
½ cup sweetened condensed milk
1½ cups semisweet chocolate chips
1½ tablespoons coconut oil
In a large bowl, combine the powdered sugar, coconut, almonds, and milk. With damp hands, shape the mixture into 1-inch balls; place onto a baking sheet lined with a silicone liner and flatten slightly. Refrigerate until firm, about 30 minutes.
In a small bowl, microwave the chocolate chips and coconut oil together on high for 1 minute; stir. Microwave 30 more seconds, as needed.
One by one, place candies into the chocolate, coating the candy completely. Use a fork to scoop the candy out, then allow excess chocolate to drip off. Place candies back onto the cookie sheet.
Refrigerate the chocolates just until set. Store in an airtight container.
Yield: About 2½ dozen.
Source: Adapted from Taste of Home.
First Published July 5, 2016, 4:00 a.m.