Ode to a Pomegranate
Sunset skin
hiding pinpoints
of blushing ambrosia
easily burst
as the whole
breaks
in
two, then more
while mining the seeds
dull and placid promises
now stripped
from the bitter
flesh.
Sally Anns and a Can of Spam
Sally Anns are one of my favorite cookies. By their taste alone, they evoke a sense of home and comfort, reminding me of the kitchen at my grandparents' place and the simple happiness of mid-afternoon sweets. They're the only food that evokes the thought, This would be better with a cup of coffee. Making them was a good Easter activity, especially as I was stuck away from the family due to unpacking (the books are now free!) and yard work shenanigans (such as finding a dead mouse in the yard, which was lovely). With help from my mom, I found the recipe in the family cookbook (my great-great-grandparents are on the cover, and other awesome old pictures are scattered throughout). I decided that the transgression of buying a can of Spam (just once) was worth it for the sake of the cookies. Poke holes in the bottom of the can to allow for air flow. I didn't have enough butter for a full batch, but half of one made 18 Cookies of Unusual Size. I made the mistake of...
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