Fork-fed

I come from a long lineage of food and harvest experts: Alabama potato croppers, Southern domestic cooks, Mississippi red mud pie makers, an American Army infantry chef, and a cake baker. Tasty gene make-up, I know.

If the saying was physically possible, I would have definitely been born with an eating utensil in hand. My food obsession brings me here daily to share loves, food news, restaurant escapades, and all that is meant to be delicious.




Tweet me @JessPatrice

Marrie dear
the box is full …
take
whatever you like
to eat …
                    (an egg
                    or soup
                    … there ain’t no meat.)
there’s endive there
and
cottage cheese …
                    (whew! if I had some
                    black-eyed peas… )
there’s sardines
on the shelves
and such …
but
don’t
get my anchovies…
they cost
too much!
                    (me get the
                    anchovies indeed!
                    what she think, she got —
                    a bird to feed?)
there’s plenty in there
o fill you up …
                    (yes’m. just the
                    sight’s
                    enough!

Hope I lives till I get
home
I’m tired of eatin’
what they eats in Rome …)

-“When In Rome” - a poem by Mari Evans