All posts tagged: food

Afternoon Shallows

I found the pip between my teeth an hour after the bitter bite of garden currents had faded from my tongue.   In the middle of a meeting, too close between collegues to spit or pick the pith from my mouth.   Instead I chased it from cheek to cheek along the ring of my lower lip to the hollow beside my molars.   The presenter lost his place, tapped again at his laptop, muttered a word , asked someone to call IT.   I swallowed by accident. Choked, drew a worried glance, waved it away with a glass of water.   Outside the cleaner checked bins, roll of bags at her hip, quick, quiet between the desks, she whisked any evidence away.   The Summer heat has been making it difficult to sit down and write. Nowhere feels comfortable and I’m constantly shifting position to try and ease that sticky, gross feeling that comes with trying to do anything at all during hot, summer days. I’d really love to hear people’s thoughts on this …

Christmas Just Regurgitated Itself Over My Kitchen-Or- Why I Smell Like Apples

If we were having coffee, well this week I’d ask if you’d rather try a glass of non-alcoholic spiced apple cider. I’m emphasising the non-alcoholic side since I’m English and cider is normally assumed to be alcoholic here. Anyway, this weekend one of the neighbours caught me on the way to buy my Christmas wreath and asked if I wanted any cooking apples. He’d been lovely enough to bring by some beans earlier in the year and he thought I might have some use for apples too. I was going to make a crumble until the lovely fiancee suggested mulled apple cider. In the end I bastardised a few recipes, hurled some apples, an orange, nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, and allspice into the slow cooker and left it to simmer along for eight hours. After straining the result was what you can see in the photo. I need to reduce the amount of cloves I’m using, and amp up the cinnamon a tad, but overall it tastes pretty scrummy and super Christmassy. My kitchen is also …

NaPoWriMo Day Six

Taste of Childhood I will always remember, dining chairs at the kitchen cupboards, and plaiting pastry for the tops of apple pies. I will remember rice puddings made at least once a fortnight despite the fact only you seemed to like them. I will remember afternoons, and thick cut real bread with home made jam and cups of tea milky and sweet in tiny mugs that now I could wrap my hand around. I will remember your face when I came home from school and the way your arms felt around my back.   I will remember I love you still. Good afternoon fellow NaPoWriMo participants and lovely, lovely readers! I’ve been a bit lazy about getting my novel written the past few days so once this poem is up I’m disappearing for a couple of hours to get the next chapter polished off and that 50,000 word count finally crossed out. I just want to remind you all that starting Monday, Writing & Works will be hosting guest posts by poets from across the …