poetry friday roundup is here

~ jama ~ 49 Comments

“I’m just a girl, standing in front of a salad, asking it to be a donut.” — Unknown

Please help yourself to coffee and donuts.

Welcome to Poetry Friday at Alphabet Soup!

Donut or doughnut? Maple Bacon or Bourbon Caramel Apple Pie? Cinnamon Sugar or Coconut Caramel Crunch? Donut ask me to choose. They’re all good.

What better way to celebrate October — arguably the prettiest fall month — than with donuts? Call it my once-a-year indulgence, when I can convincingly “rationalize” the intake of extra calories, fat and sugar (especially since several donut shops around here feature scrumptious seasonal flavors). I think Pennsylvania poet Betsey Cullen has the right idea.

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“Iced Donut” by Lauren Pretorius.
RATIONALIZATION
by Betsey Cullen

Fry, dunk, sugar, cajole, bathe in cinnamon, sprinkle
cha-cha dancers on smooth whiteness,
ice like Jackson Pollock. Thank the Dutch

for every olykoek, palm-size, four hundred calories
wide, one hundred calories deep.
Isn't calorie a measure of heat? Ah, sweet crutch;

chocolate glazed, cream-based, two-a-day. Straight
from mouth to hip. Can you swallow it?
Food hit of the century in 1934, way too much

for tubbies. Loosen up. Krispy Kreme rhymes
with dream. Go ahead. Wallow
in a carrot-cake donut, call it a vegetable.

~ from The Book of Donuts, edited by Jason Lee Brown and Shanie Latham (Terrapin Books, 2017).

“Donut Six Pack” by Jason Walker (oil on panel).

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“Thief in the Night” by Eric Joyner (click to see more of his work).

Who am I to argue with Betsey? 😀

Just because you’re cute, here’s a short recipe poem from The New Home Cook Book published by the Illinois State Register (1926). This was a ladies club community cookbook that appeared annually between 1922 and 1926. The poem preceded the actual recipe, which doesn’t indicate how many doughnuts it makes. A fun and tasty bit of nostalgia to nibble on in any case.

DOUGHNUTS

One cup sugar, one cup milk,

Two eggs beaten fine as silk;

Salt and nutmeg (lemon will do),

Of baking powder, teaspoons two;

Lightly stir the flour in,

Roll on pie board, not too thin,

Cut in diamonds, twist or rings,

Drop with care, the doughy things,

Into fat that briskly swells

Evenly the spongy cells;

Watch with care the time for turning

Fry them brown, just short of burning,

Roll in sugar, serve when cool,

Price a quarter for this rule.

“Collapse Donuts” by Robert C. Jackson (2021).

Doughnuts

  • Servings: 12?
  • Difficulty: average
  • Print

Ingredients

  • 1 cup sugar
  • 1 cup milk
  • 2 eggs
  • 1/4 tsp. salt
  • 1 tsp. baking powder
  • 1 tablespoon lard
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • nutmeg to taste
  • flour to make soft dough

Directions

Beat egg, add sugar, melted lard and sour milk into which soda has been stirred. Add grated nutmeg and salt. Sift baking powder with flour and mix to make a soft dough. Knead lightly, roll out, cut and fry in deep hot fat. Dust with powdered or granulated sugar.

~ from The New Home Cookbook: Latest Revised Edition (Illinois State Register, 1926), as posted at Jama’s Alphabet Soup.

What’s your favorite? Do you prefer a raised or cake donut? Sugared or glazed? Yes or no to sprinkles?

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Now, while you’re sitting there with that glazed look on your face, please leave your links with the ravenous Mr. Linky below. Anxious to see your original poems, poems by others, reviews, and interesting poetic musings. Thanks for joining us this week!

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“Life is Sweet” by Terry Romero Paul (oil).

🍩 May you have a donut-y weekend filled with cream, jelly, custard and pudding!

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*Copyright © 2024 Jama Rattigan of Jama’s Alphabet Soup. All rights reserved.

[review] Blue by Nana Ekua Brew-Hammond and Daniel Minter

~ jama ~ 21 Comments

“Blue skies smiling at me, nothing but blue skies do I see . . . ” ~ Irving Berlin

Blue likes me. It’s always been there, coloring my life with good things since childhood: my first Schwinn bike, Island of the Blue Dolphins, fountain pen Quink, favorite pearl bracelet, the sparkling azure of the Aegean one summer.

At age 9, I saw Elvis filming “Blue Hawaii” alongside the pineapple fields. He was driving a baby blue convertible. The first time I met Len in London he was wearing a navy blue sweater. These days, I sip Darjeeling in a Blue Calico teacup, delighted to spot the first bluebird every spring.

Blue just knows how to make an impression. From the cozy comfort of broken-in jeans to the bright optimism of a clear autumn sky, blue touches us all in ways ordinary and profound.

But now I must confess something. Until I read BLUE: A History of the Color as Deep as the Sea and as Wide as the Sky by Nana Ekua Brew-Hammond and Daniel Minter (Knopf BFYR, 2022), I knew very little about blue’s fascinating history, origins, and cultural significance. Imagine my surprise when this book magically appeared in my mailbox one day — simply out of the blue (thanks for the gift, Miss T.)! 🙂

Brew-Hammond begins her captivating narrative by citing how elusive and mysterious blue actually is. It’s “all around us,” in the sky and sea. Yet we can’t touch the sky and when we try to cup the sea, its blueness disappears. We may crush iris petals for a brilliant shade of blue, but when we add water, the color fades away.

But then blue appears in the strangest places, discovered throughout history in unexpected ways.

Blue rocks called lapis lazuli were mined as early as 4500 BC in Afghanistan. The ancient Egyptians used the stones to make jewelry and charms to ward off evil, and by 44 BC they (including Queen Cleopatra VII) applied a bluish mixture around their eyes made from ground lapis lazuli grains, plants and animal fat.

In another 600 years or so, artists began painting sculptures, walls, and canvases with blue made from the crushed rocks. Since this paint was expensive to produce, only the wealthy could afford it. This high-demand luxury prompted scientists, merchants, and dyers to search for more sources of blue.

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Elizabeth Alexander’s “Blues”

~ jama ~ 27 Comments
“The Blue Room” by Suzanne Valadon (1923).
BLUES
by Elizabeth Alexander

I am lazy, the laziest
girl in the world. I sleep during
the day when I want to, 'til
my face is creased and swollen,
'til my lips are dry and hot. I 
eat as I please: cookies and milk
after lunch, butter and sour cream
on my baked potato, foods that
slothful people eat, that turn
yellow and opaque beneath the skin.
Sometimes come dinnertime Sunday
I am still in my nightgown, the one
with the lace trim listing because
I have not mended it. Many days
I do not exercise, only
consider it, then rub my curdy
belly and lie down. Even
my poems are lazy. I use
syllabics instead of iambs,
prefer slant to the gong of full rhyme,
write briefly while others go
for pages. And yesterday,
for example, I did not work at all!
I got in my car and I drove 
to factory outlet stores, purchased
stockings and panties and socks
with my father's money.

To think, in childhood I missed only
one day of school per year. I went
to ballet class four days a week
at four-forty-five and on
Saturdays, beginning always
with plie, ending with curtsy.
To think, I knew only industry,
the industry of my race
and of immigrants, the radio
tuned always to the station
that said, Line up your summer
job months in advance. Work hard
and do not shame your family,
who worked hard to give you what you have.
There is no sin but sloth. Burn
to a wick and keep moving.

I avoided sleep for years,
up at night replaying 
evening news stories about
nearby jailbreaks, fat people
who ate fried chicken and woke up
dead. In sleep I am looking
for poems in the shape of open
V's of birds flying in formation,
or open arms saying, I forgive you, all.

~ from Body of Life (Tia Chucha Press, 1996).
“Canada Geese Flying Over a Norfolk Marsh,” by MacKenzie Thorpe.

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nine cool things on a tuesday

~ jama ~ 4 Comments

“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” ~ Lucy Maud Montgomery (Anne of Green Gables)

1. Hello, October, you are the prettiest month! To celebrate, we’re featuring the art of Minnesota illustrator Laura Irene (Chimney Smoke Art).

Laura is all about the warm and cozy, and is inspired by nature, home life and the changing seasons. Love how she captures the beautiful autumnal colors and a slower pace of life. Whether strolling down the lane or baking an apple pie, the people in her pictures seem to thrive on simple pleasures.

Creating her illustrations in a studio right off the kitchen means she’s never far away from the tea kettle. Is that chili and cornbread on the table? You can purchase prints and postcards at her Website Shop or Etsy. For the latest updates, check out her Instagram.

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[yummy review] La fiesta de las pupusas/The Fiesta of the Pupusas: El Salvador by Jorge Argueta and Gabriela Morán

~ jama ~ 28 Comments

“In El Salvador the full moon is a celestial pupusa.” ~ Francisco X. Alarcón

Right about now, I’m hungry for a warm, savory pupusa. Filling of choice? Pork, beans and melty cheese. Don’t skimp on the salsa roja or curtido! Officially declared the national dish of El Salvador in 2005, pupusas are the ultimate happy-making comfort food and the delectable subject of Jorge Argueta’s new picture book.

As a big fan of his bilingual cooking poem series published by Groundwood Books (Sopa de frijoles/Bean Soup (2009), Arroz con leche/Rice Pudding (2010), Guacamole (2012), Tamalitos (2013), and Salsa (2015)), I was excited to see La fiesta de las pupusas/The Fiesta of the Pupusas: El Salvador (Luna’s Press Books, 2024), charmingly illustrated by Salvadoran artist and graphic designer Gabriela Morán.

This joyful celebration of El Salvador’s favorite food is also a love letter to Argueta’s home country, where his family once owned a restaurant and he grew up with the colors, smells, and sounds of traditional foods being lovingly prepared by his mother and aunts in his own kitchen.

As the story opens, our friendly narrator explains that pupusas are a very popular, magical food in El Salvador, where it’s eaten morning, noon, and night. Pupusas are made from corn or rice flour, were once cooked in clay griddles, but are now made on big metal grills. And they’re round!

Las pupusas son redonditas, 
son como llantitas,
son como la letra O,
son como la luna,
son como el sol.

Pupusas are round, 
like little tires, 
like the letter O, 
like the moon,
like the sun.

Though most pupusas are filled with beans and cheese, some are made with cheese and loroco, a tiny white fragrant flower:

 ¡Qué rico huele el loroco!
Es una flor blanquita como las nubes. 
Picadita, la flor se revuelve con el queso
y se pone en la masa haciéndola una bolita. 
La bolita se aplasta aplaudiendo.
Así se hacen pupusas de loroco.
¡Ayyy, qué loroco, más loco y qué delicioso!

Loroco smells so wonderful!
It’s a little flower, white as clouds.
Chopped-up loroco gets stirred in with the cheese
and kneaded in the corn dough to make a little ball. 
You flatten the ball by clapping.
That’s how you make loroco pupusas.
Ahhh, loroco, it’s loco, and yummy in the tummy!
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