TASTE OF HOME

A film rolls out into words. The highway home that's yearned. Seems now a long road back to full circle. Dispatches of writing attenuates the finer times to come like a menu. The course spur of the moment delighted together at last. Spend conversations. Directing foods for narrative at the market place.

  

Reminder of Lake Casitas family camping. The lines of fishing. Mother for tubs of salads and sandwiches and time to eat. Memories prosper again. Passing the 101 canyon of vineyards these moments come back not short but long of poetry gone by.       

 

Home is like a transient door made at every milestone of your return to keep. Requested salmon fillets baked and broiled them over parsley bed and parsley garlic doused singularly of extra virgin oil. The guests delighted but heard so much of the cook the siblings pride.

The coral mushrooms peach in color was for the ages taste. In alchemy of butter, capers, discs of sundried tomatoes (through stock of celery and basil stems). Make the Spanish frittata you know its reputation to us. Sure pleasure to this writer at the stove. 

Hearts, hands, eyes pressed praying gratitude for the table blessings. How rare to reunion this nuclear love for exactly nothing has changed. So much older but the same as usual for when we were all so much younger. The albums of these taste are ineffable, merry, always merry.