Sunday, December 21, 2008

Dom Pérignon

With the approach of Christmas and the New Year, I would like to offer these Champagne poems. Just two notes: poilu is a French word for soldiers in the First World War. They had no opportunity to shave and were called poilu which means "hairy one." The cathedral in one poem is in Reims. German artillery bombarded it during the First World War, provoking great outrage at the destruction of artwork.

Yes, Dom Pérignon,

A chaste monk in his cellar,

Made his wine sparkle.

On the hard chalk hills

Stoic Champenois produce

Their effervescence.

Stroll in a vineyard

Here near Reims you just might find

A poilu’s remains.

A scarred cathedral

Offers us testimony

Of war and healing.

Cathedral in Reims,

Gothic art amid vineyards,

Faith took deep roots here.

Watch the bubbles rise

Share the night with your good friends

Enjoying God’s gifts

by Mark Schardine, December 2008

Mark is a contributing and performing poet in the Cultural Art Expression Open Mic that I run here in Princeton/Plainsboro. He also shares a love for wine and food as I do, and had once again presented me with a wonderful expression for the coming holidays! I welcome any poetry for this site from many of you other food and wine aficionados out there...

Monday, November 24, 2008

Tea Haiku

Sencha’s gentle taste

Fresh leaves, verdant and fragrant,

Richly delicate.

Light brown oolong leaves

Soak up water and expand

Diffusing flavor.

Keemun tea with its

Strong fragrance of autumn leaves

Gently diluted.

Dark brown Assam tea

Gives strong color and fragrance

Up to the cup’s brim.

Green matcha powder

Whisked about in hot water

Forms calm, forceful tea.

by Mark Schardine, November 2008

This site is for Food Poetry, and anyone that appreciates how the site of food is the beginning of the eating experience; then comes smell and taste that turns the whole body into a wonderful vessel of experience...if you would like to submit a poem to be featured me at

Monday, November 10, 2008


Offering your wine
Sparkling, red, rosé or white
Since antiquity

You demand hard work
Before allowing a feast,
And we need some luck.

First comes spring pruning
Removing the weaker wood
Then training the vines.

Watching the leaves grow
The sun then ripens the grapes
Expectations rise.

Hazards always lurk
Damp weather, mildew, aphids,
Then a lost harvest.

After the summer heat
Comes the time to pluck ripe grapes.
This year has been good.

Tradition explains
Vintners learn anew each year
To blend, let ferment.

When the cork pops out
And the glass fills up with wine
We respect your art.

Generous Bacchus
Our honored guest, faithful friend
Welcome to dinner.

We pour in your glass
Smooth, dry Châteauneuf-du-Pape
With a light bouquet.

Your sensitive nose
Recognizes this vintage
A votre santé!

© Mark Shardine

Mark is New Jersey poet, and has offered to let us post his recent works sharing his love for wine!

Thursday, October 30, 2008

"Whats Your Specialty"

One of the many questions as a chef I get asked is "what is your specialty", and sometimes I just do not have an answer. I like so many things (baking an exception) that I cannot tell you one specific thing. Maybe, southern food because I ate it most of my life, and can do it blind folded. Being a poet all my life gave me a funny idea to write something involving food and that question, and add it my 'FoodNPoetry' blog site, so here goes folks...

After many years of careful consideration
and irritation... of this repetitive question... my specialty is...
'Southern Fried Me'
When your craving a unique recipe, an independent, still growing, always in season...
‘deep fried’ artist
-coated -with a mixture of gritty Texas dust
large prickly cactus -no need to remove needles
(putting aside a few of its morning roses) -for garnish - smell and eye appeal
-part of the dining experience
Grind up the cactus - carefully -watching out
for an the unwanted sting
-for… just the right prick
fresh country brown eggs- cracked open on the side of the bowl -to bind
Remember to remove any pieces of shell that have fallen into the slimy white abyss
salt and pepper -nothing else -I already have a unique and intense flavor
Shots of patron silver -served in a snake skin boot -no reason
just a way to slow this animal down, and to get you in the mood
Mix all ingredients well -starting on a low speed for at least seven minutes
-turning it up -high, slow, high, slow -make sure your having fun!
Hold the bowl at just the right angle
so the mixture doesn’t shoot out
-all over -your apron
men forget that part, since a few of them do not know how to cook
Add - olive oil pour into a skillet
-Heat to 375
-the hotter the better

Take me - coat me -egg in my face -one more time
-rolling me around -like dredging shoe string potatoes through seasoned flour
When am I ready? -you decide
-but remember
just when life tries to lay me out
on a cold steel platter
stab at me -over and over -one more time
-I will let out a sound - so loud -a curdling scream
like when you cut into a -blood dripping -rare steak
-send me back to the kitchen -to the fire,
...cause' I ain't done and can take the heat!

© E Stelling, 2008 All Rights reserved, CookAppeal, LLC

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Menu Reality

Don't you just hate reading what seems like the most delicious menu, and then order that one something that totally might rock your world...but, they bring out a plate of thrown together and who knows what they were thinking pile of...

An Iceburg Sunk My Palate

Early bird dinner
menu longer than
my dinner guest
hair...but we decide
two cobb salads
extra avocado
crab cake
on the side

our dinner
finally arrives....

Excuse me
I could swear
the menu read
Crab Cake Cobb
bacon, avocado
blue cheese
black olives
and over

As we pick
our plate
piled high of
Iceberg nightmare
plenty of black olives
sparse blue crumbles
the puny bacon
lacks and stumbles
half an avocado
underneath the
greasy crab cake

How we
but some
of us fail to rate
what is not
viewed by
the back of the house
as menu reality.

So, to this eatery
a careless chef
the poor feeble waitress

All works owned and © E Stelling, 2008

Poems For A Beautiful Woman

Pasqualle Varallo is an Italian Poet who resides in Philadelphia, and I had the pleasure of hearing him read his works and become his friend. He has a great sense of humor and connection with the working class of his times and mine. He lost his Irish wife about seven years ago, and started writing poetry from his longing and memories of his time with her. He is working on his second book of poetry, and you can find out more about him at . I picked three of his poems to post on here, so enjoy!

Chamomile Tea

As she slowly sipped
a sweet vision of love
I did see.
Spread upon her face
a smile
like the wings of a dove,
her memory.

At the Kitchen Door

Oh, what a beautiful
Come see it!
Yes, my love,I can see,
Believe it.

But, it is only a thing in the
I would rather watch you,
see you smile, and

Irish Stew

When you're feeling blue
Make a pot of Irish stew
Start with an onion or two
You might stir the brew.

Brown some nice red beef
then add a large bay leaf
Cover to simmer
the air's a sneak thief
Has always been the belief.

In go the veggies by the bunch
Cook slowly
don't lose the crunch
Mmmmmm, munch, munch, munch
Make a lot
leftovers are great for lunch.

Drop in a bit of tomato paste
then salt and pepper to taste
Sop up the gravy with bread
Don't Waste!
Oh, one more thing, a napkin
for the dribble on your face!

There's nothing like a good stew
don't you agree,
to make you feel brand new!

All work owned and copyrighted
© Pasquale Varallo, 2004, Poems For A Beautiful Woman

Food N Poetry

Many of us out there are so into food that we write about it as often as we can. Our passion for growing, buying, preparing, cooking, and eating it is like a ritual, a sensual experience, or at least it is for me. When I eat, it is in slow movement. I take time to taste everything, and even have what I call the perfect bite test when eating out, I use a spoon to get all the flavors on the plate together in one mouthful to see if the flavors meld together. We take time to put together ingredients and flavors for a reason. I have witnessed people who devour the food in minutes and you have to wonder if they have even tasted what they put into their mouths. Eating can be a very sensual experience by taking in the foods smell and appearance before it comes to the table, and once it is in front of you. I looked forward to meeting my husband who takes in food and wine the way I do, and that is poetry in itself!

I have taken it a step further in writing about food, and have put some of it into poetry. I have been writing and performing my poetry for years, and love it. Meeting others along the way who write about food, recipes and experiences that will also share their work on here. In the past year some of my words have formed into food experience poetry, and I think many of you out there have some in you as well.

This site is for 'Food N Poetry' and if you want to share anything from poetry or rants about food and drink with others then send me some of your work and I will post it here, (All works will remain your property)

I do have to credit one of our bloggers for this idea. OnCallChef made a simple statement of how it is hard being a chef and not critiquing places we eat. Sometimes we have more to say than just posting a recipe or reviewing a restaurant. We want to just speak out...