steak
food, History, Humour

Forbidden Steak

Enthroned regal on the chef’s handpicked

plate, adorned with the Grecian cutlery.

Crowned with a dash of lush-push

glistening glorious butter surrounded with 

the gleeful wild mushrooms, snobbish

handpicked Romas, and that indifferent

Sun-baked Potato King.

 

Juices of Youth overflowing through

edges, butchered  just this morning by

some sturdy Polish hands, around

The Madison Square Gardens…

 

If wars were fought for the Helen of Troy 

or Roman Empire was fallen who knows?

A sinful bite of those decadent juices from

luscious fats is worth all the battles taken

with the mighty Vegan empire.

 

Choirs of the Weight-Watchers might

conspire, The great David may 

not rescue this time…

 

Gods smile on beings who resist and

endure, I might never be under any

benevolence or in League-Extraordinaire

of Skinny and Thin

 

I’ll surrender to the horrors of every 

calorie-watcher or prying gaze of my

wise Aerobics master. I’ll sing my grace

and dig into the flesh of forbidden

Steak today..

 

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autumn, feminine, food

My Kitchen Empire

When my man is under the spell of elusive

raven nights, I carry in my bosom a long

-held secret, in glimmers of the faint

candle-light

 

I carefully lay my eyes upon the shelves of my

oriental kitchen, laden with my bridal 

copper pots & pans, embellished of

emerald peacocks and exquisite

Mughal florets.

 

My majestic Indian Mortar, Earthen Moroccan

Tagine lay enthroned midst the spice

bazaar, magical herbs gilded like

jewels in the crown of my

Kitchen Empire .

 

As I stir heavenly liquids against thick walls of

ashen pots the mushroom fumes of blunt

peppers, topaz turmeric soar much high

raising the temperatures of cold

Connecticut nights.

 

Uncle Sage and Aunty Rosemary sit beside me

all night whispering to me the magic that

will unfold tonight, as I stir the curry

in circles with all my might I often

shed a tear- or so on 

 my plight ,

 

The divine basil fills up my senses and assures

that things will go alright, while the ruby

peppers keep raising the temperatures,

and tiny sparkling drops crawls through

neck much to my annoyance.

 

Lamenting lemon appears, splitting into a glorious

vision of two, infusing with the clear waters

of great American Land quenching my

thirsts with concoction of fabled

lemonade. 

 

As the coterie of spices tinker in the pot, I realize

I need one more ploy and blow a puff of

aphrodisiac Fenugreek to stop the

ensuing battle tonight…

 

All this and more till oriental sun-rises on my imperial

Kitchen Durbar….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

food, poetry, Travel

The Land of Food Lovers

“Mac-Donaldus Tacum, 

Infurnus Divina Steakum

Panem nostrum daily

coffeum withum summum

donoughtus”

 

At every turn a Mac-Donald’s

at every curve a Wendy’s,

there across the road lay

a live breathing hot-dog

under the careful gaze of

cozy Connecticut Sun.

 

The lush garden free flows

with aroma of Dunkin

-Doughnut’s coffee, all I need

is a fabled pitcher of Greeks to

gulp it all down in one go,

such an aphrodisiac for my

fragile senses…

 

Now that I’m in land of free

I must uphold and behold

in my sight almost the mythical

Popeye’s Fried Chicken at the

corners of which rests the

pleasures of many virgins

 

 That legendary Roadhouse  

steak 🥩 the valor of which

echoes in my ears and the

glistening fat that will linger

in my veins for many years

to come…

 

The proud French can always

proclaim their victories when

it comes to their luxurious wines

from the regions of Normandy, 

but the Californian vineyards

are always a step ahead for their

perennial sun-shine and the

voluptuous grape-vines.  

 

May be it was not the vision

Martin Luther had in mind

or was never to be Lincoln’s

dream in hindsight but as

I smell the rich flavors of

decadent fries somewhere

I can tell you for sure, this

land is every food lovers

paradise !

 

As for me humble folks, some

say I’m a traveler while some

a migrant, but I know I am only

here to take few bites more &

will return to my land carrying

some flavors more, as I still have

to taste one last morsel from my

aging mom’s hands…

 

 

 

 

 

food, Nature

Veggies

 

THE GOAL WITH SIX PACKS FD56A235-3B77-4BF2-A228-0A1995D99F91.jpeg

 

 

 

 

 

ME WITH TEN PACKS OF CHIPS

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Just focus on yourself

( David Neira, Chape Fitness)

(So said the great David… focus on yourself and eat natural and gluten-free but how???)

How about some veggies 🌽 for the morning, to kick start a day with health and anti-oxidants? Please don’t ask what I had for dinner🤓🤓. My new year is resolution to include more natural produce and cut out gluten breads and pasta.Yesterday I made a final vow with myself  over the fire 🔥 burner to abandon my savoury taste buds infavour of whatever grows out in nature, raw and wild!! But after my vow in morning at night when I saw yummy Frank Pepe pizza I completely forgot that  I’ve taken a secret oath to give vegetables and fruits a chance to grow inside me and ended up eating couple of big slices. I stopped after three slices  and realized that in the morning I made a resolution😐😐😐 to foresake processed infavour of natural.

Hence in order to compensate for the sins of last night, prepared this sautéed vegetables in  morning in hope of redemption. I’ve several notes around the house to remind me of my pledge( I keep forgetting 🤓)

May be mama mushroom will forgive me and by next year vines of tomatoes will grow out of me with ocassional chillies and squashes!

( Dedicated to sincere efforts of Chape Fitness,

online training

fantastic site by David Neira, a fitness expert, nutritionist and a valiant Spaniard. If you are looking for healthy living and fitness then it’s click away )

 

Continue reading “Veggies”

Baklava
feminine, food, Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, woman

The Golden Baklava

The molten honey oozing out from the layers and layers

of criss-cross diamond pastries, packed with luscious emerald

Persian pistachios, and the fragrant cinnamon from the land

of mythical fire dragons, the rich raisins handpicked by sultan’s

virgin hoories from the ripe grapes on the caravan routes of the

mighty silk-road, Oh! what a decadent mixture of zahidi dates

specially bartered in return of a passionate kiss to an ancient

Bedouin  flanked by the flock of camels travelling across the mighty

Saharan sand-dunes, a heavenly sweetened delight capable of

seducing even the astute gods in the majestic skies, I just

surrendered myself in the feet of the great-Turkish pesermick as

he so softly made me sit on his cozy lap and put a morsel of the

golden beauty  from his lusty mouth into my parched mouth.

I fell into a hands of sinful ecstasy worth thousand opiates and my

promiscuous mouth just exploded with decadent flavors and for

my heart it just got ruptured as I licked the juices from the

golden baklava gently crawling on my warm flesh.

 

( Baklava is my favorite sweet, I just love it)