I persuaded Fred, the ethical butcher
to give me the best cut of veal
Then on to Erin the cheese monger
who’s slight condescension seems to flavor her wares
though her goats milk Stilton is sublime
I went traipsing the avenue
to secure our stock
Meyer lemon and organic chicken
to roast and flavor
With garlic and rosemary fresh from the market
Lychee and red tea Saffron and spices
Kumquats and whatnots
Chicken paillard
and a tub filled with lard
the true secret to a light fluffy phyllo
My bags were soon laden with rosy red berries
Arms weighed down with all necessary ingredients
ingredients needed to tickle your palate
thick cut bacon chicharrones and salmon fillet
I got heirloom tomatoes hoping you’d realize
it is so goddamn hard to get decent vegetables
in the middle of March
We met over doughnuts
it was Bouchon in the Spring
A chilly Sunday morning
a little tradition
a monthly excursion
a caloric devotion
I can taste it now
He sat just behind me pocket plaid shirt
classically handsome
but I was lost in a doughnut
It arrived on a plate
a lightly fried wonder
dusted with sugar
only on Sundays
I bit in I bit in I bit in
all that cream
so unctuous
I bit in I bit in
all that cream
so unctuous
With each bite with each bite
a small groan grew
a small groan grew
from the back of my throat
until
I couldn’t help it
until
I couldn’t help it
until
I couldn’t help it
until
I couldn’t help it
until
oh God
I love doughnuts
I could feel the silence the stares
Behind me he cleared his throat
Slowly our gazes met
His blue New England eyes asked
“Have you always liked doughnuts?”
A dumpling is a dumpling except
Be it flour and shortening
a fine rice paper wrapping
a dumpling is a dumpling except
Hearty fare for the winter
or sweet cherries for filling
a dumpling is a dumpling
a sear made in oil
steamed baked or boiled
it will stick to the ribs
leaving only a smile
to linger on your lips
a warm equatorial feeling
that can only induce a request
for a second encounter
a dumpling is a dumpling except when it’s not
Do we have a moral obligation
to creatures with whom we share the world
I have heard that gavage
isn’t painful
for ducks aren’t human
it just slides right down their throats
they’re just like plump little children
to be harvested
and enjoyed by socialites
I can’t claim to have an understanding
of what it must take
to butcher your own lamb
nor have I taken up a shotgun
or cast a fishing line
the thought seems rather crass
I prefer to have my meals presented
In appetizing portions
and paired with fine wines
If I could I would jump in to a cool
watermelon cucumber gazpacho
Lifted on hints of elderflower
infused with lemon and herbs
I could parse my way through scissoring
in to a fire roasted red pepper and silken corn soup
Feeling the intoxicating sense of heat
wash across my skin as I float
I find a sense of peace in sensation
in hazy dreams where I can escape
and hover safely above the kitchen table
Have you ever cut open an aloe spear
and smeared the gel across your face?
I used to buy them at my bodega
Feel as it sucked the water from my skin
My face growing taught my mind would stop spinning
and I would wish I could encase myself disappear
I have a sense of peace in sensation
in hazy dreams where I can escape
and hover safely above the kitchen table
The clink of glass on glass chimes in
Drawing me back to corporal reality
Perhaps I could fold myself into a layer of potato gratin
Or burrow inside the pork roulade
For dessert I slip into a warm luxurious bath
with chocolate and lavender
coating me and cooling until I crack
and emerge reborn
about
In Appetizing Portions is a song cycle in five parts by composer Fritz Myers and lyricist Clare Drobot. Scored for soprano, violin, and electric guitar, the five movements explore surreal scenes plucked from the thoughts of an Upper East Side woman attempting to cook her way into her mother-in-law’s good graces. Written for soprano Samantha Britt and violinist Andie Tanning with Myers on guitar, IAP received its first performance through the new music series at New York City venue The Tank in 2012. In the intervening eight years as the creative team scattered across the globe, the music was recorded when paths crossed and time allowed with the final session completed in New York City in February of 2020. Learn more: www.platitudemusic.com/iap
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