Easter is just days away. My kitchen fills with the sights and smells of Holy Week baking just like my mother and grandmother's kitchens before me. I recall these women, my creative baking mentors whose hands lovingly crafted honey dolls fashioned out of dough, Easter bunny cakes with just the right amount of coconut, and mounds of delicious cookies. Their artistry was well known in their neighborhoods. Remembering the Easters of my life, I bake for family and friends to celebrate the spiritual and temporal joys of the Easter season.
Messy baking tins, bowls filled with different colored frosting, and platters of chocolate dipped cookies waiting for the finishing touches are lined up. From my mother and grandmother, I learned that the presentation stage is an important part of the creative process.
Usually, I take photos of my finished creations but there was such a rush this morning that I had no time to photograph the Easter week treats that were carefully placed in an open weave, spring-green plastic basket laced with a pink bow. Easter filler was placed in the bottom of the basket. On top of this, I stacked chewy brownies, different varieties of chocolate chip cookies, and Easter eggs of brownie dough covered in yellow, buttercream frosting with a touch of Triple Sec, and finished with a layer of coconut. I was pleased with the presentation and so were the recipients.
Baking by Phoebe Boswall is a fitting poem that shares the experience of baking and remembering a loved one.
Smells of baking remind me of you.
Your red apron, my small striped one with the torn pocket.
Your soft stretched skin, fingers kneading dough
into a ball. My fat floury hands
grasped for your amber necklace,
Quick, Phoebe, the oven.
You played with flavours,
made little blobs of buttery dough on the tray
Your warm kitchen my safe haven.
You can read the rest of the poem here.
Smells of baking remind me of you,
Anise seeds, almond extract, sweet honey,
they lift my senses, taking me back to childhood-
little fingers stroking an oversized rolling pin,
playing baker, standing by your side on summer days.
Your warm kitchen, small for modern day baking,
was my childhood playground and learning ground.
I remember your wisdom with each cookie I create.
©CV, 2019
I join the delightful, children poet, Amy Vanderwater at The Poem Farm for the Poetry Friday Roundup as National Poetry Month continues.
Messy baking tins, bowls filled with different colored frosting, and platters of chocolate dipped cookies waiting for the finishing touches are lined up. From my mother and grandmother, I learned that the presentation stage is an important part of the creative process.
Usually, I take photos of my finished creations but there was such a rush this morning that I had no time to photograph the Easter week treats that were carefully placed in an open weave, spring-green plastic basket laced with a pink bow. Easter filler was placed in the bottom of the basket. On top of this, I stacked chewy brownies, different varieties of chocolate chip cookies, and Easter eggs of brownie dough covered in yellow, buttercream frosting with a touch of Triple Sec, and finished with a layer of coconut. I was pleased with the presentation and so were the recipients.
Baking by Phoebe Boswall is a fitting poem that shares the experience of baking and remembering a loved one.
Smells of baking remind me of you.
Your red apron, my small striped one with the torn pocket.
Your soft stretched skin, fingers kneading dough
into a ball. My fat floury hands
grasped for your amber necklace,
Quick, Phoebe, the oven.
You played with flavours,
made little blobs of buttery dough on the tray
Your warm kitchen my safe haven.
You can read the rest of the poem here.
Smells of baking remind me of you,
Anise seeds, almond extract, sweet honey,
they lift my senses, taking me back to childhood-
little fingers stroking an oversized rolling pin,
playing baker, standing by your side on summer days.
Your warm kitchen, small for modern day baking,
was my childhood playground and learning ground.
I remember your wisdom with each cookie I create.
©CV, 2019
I join the delightful, children poet, Amy Vanderwater at The Poem Farm for the Poetry Friday Roundup as National Poetry Month continues.
