scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

15.9.10

black is white. up is down. yes is no. I will never give knives as a wedding present. first an onion: tear off the skin, trash. Quickly dice, oil, flames, bigblueflames. i cut the peppers, i tear out the whites, big chops, big pieces, slicing, slicing. Everything on the fire. I force out the insides of mushrooms with my thumbs. I put my wet finger on an ice cube and wait, again, three times, and now when my wine is cold my dinner will be finished. Serrated blade for the tomatoes, for the sausage. I am rough with them all. Give it a moment. Steam rising from the pan, the peppers turning black, the sausage going after it, onions coming fast to brown, honest salt only and tomatoes last. Flip the sausages. Let it swelter, let it burn, but i stab the tops of mushrooms with my wood fork as i watch it char.

Brown bread and pale cheese, the bread hard and nutty and the cheese, it yields, it allows, soft and melting, and the wine is cold with the ice slowed down and stillstanding.

and then the pot is alltogether, the sausages warm and dense, the mushrooms dark. tomatoes diffusing through. it smells divine. i am bright, i feel bright, easy, drinking the wine too fast. I get a fork.

Labels: food

scrawled @ 17:10