Let's play Gourmet or Bologna?

Even gourmet has been misrepresented as all food and not just wine. 'Gourmand' would be a better word choice if not tainted by the connotation of 'Lover of food” which bends toward the deadly sin of gluttony. When I enter a restaurant that claims their dishes are worthy of three dollar signs $$$, I like to play the game: gourmet or bologna? Don’t let my skepticism make you think I’m just judging and looking for a failure; that’s not the case! I’m hoping for a culinary experience that broadens my palate. I want to walk away fully satisfied, knowing my money wasn’t wasted.

Food has opened the world to me, much like library books, which transport me through portals to different parts of the world.

As a poet often overwhelmed by my senses, I am compelled to document these experiences to better understand how they shape my place in the world—food is part of that obsession. I write in various poetic forms, from haibun to free verse, which you will find posted here. Yet, my poetic elbows on the table are drawn toward the ekphrastic form, which uses images as a muse. There is no better image than a plate of stir-fried vegetables in a drinkable coconut sauce or a bowl of steaming spicy broth bathing rice noodles, tender and swirling around scallions.

I’m an avid cook who enjoys hosting brunch and turkey days for family and friends. I love a good recipe that transforms simple ingredients into a wonderful holiday dish. It’s all about the setup, platters, and serving dishes. How the food seems to beckon the guests, enticing us to pick it first. All the sights, smells, sounds, feelings, and tastes I experience, I want to share—and that’s not baloney.