There was no precision
Just love and intuition

She used to cook every meal
That these pages might reveal

Her gas stove set in Brazil
Brings the secrets of family meals

The recipes were written by her hands
Changing perspectives and flavours in every kitchen it lands

Now, an induction cooktop
And an avalanche of memories nonstop

Maize grits and boiling water
And I can hear her voice as a reminder

“You just need some bits
Bits of salt,
Bits of butter,
Bits of patience,
Bits of balance…”

Her touches and tips
Were in the delicious polenta captured by her great granddaugher’s mouth and bib.

poetry 2021/08/31