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those were the nights of guacamole: I crushed garlic in a stone pestle,
dashed salt, added some pepper, minced jalapeno & cilantro,
never forgetting to squeeze in some lime, a bowl of chips,
& I believed I had something any man would die for.
those were the days of attic-living on Forest, down the street
from the folks with gnomes on their front lawn & artificial deer,
near the river where we could see the vineyards in the distance
& get shivers thinking about freedom, like when we went
to Los Padres Mountains on our first date. what a faraway
place to drive just to have sex with a boy I'd known all my life,
who made love as if his life depended on pleasing me & it did.
now he craves scacciata, fish stew & connoli, while I am
thinking of disappearing like garlic into avocado.
piquant as I may be, I'll never make a good Sicilian wife.
| This reminds me of the book "Like Water For Chocolate"|
I was wondering if you'd read it?
Anyhoo, I can taste all the favours, they're just right there! And now I am hungry :/
A nicely executed exquisite story. A culinary adventure, if you will.
|| Posted on 2011-02-03 00:00:00 | by EshyFishy | [ Reply to This ] || this is gorgeous! and it made me hungry. |
i dated a sicilian once, she tried to literally destroy my life after she double-dosed on her meds and drank too much. i had to go into hiding. she was also jewish.. i'm not sure if being sicilian or jewish had anything to do with her mood swings or not. she also liked guacamole and sex. everything's connected.
i'm going to favorite this one :)
|| Posted on 2011-02-02 00:00:00 | by blackbird | [ Reply to This ] |