Stirring the Muse is a poetry cookbook edited by Susan Marie Powers, published by Orenaug Mountain Publishing. It consists of poems and recipes from a group of Connecticut town Poets Laureate, and former ones. A copy of the book has been given to your public library , if you live in the Nutmeg State. Here’s my Pasta Fazool poem. Leggilo! Mangia!
Pasta Fazool
Pasta Fazool
came off the boat with the huddled masses,
a simple sloppy steaming beany bowl
a warm reminder of the old country
no family’s version exactly the same,
comfort derived from cannellini or ceci,
gratitude for a grandmother’s garden,
memories of Sorrento
the addition of sausage on Sundays,
pancetta on payday.
Pasta fazool,
The words escape from the mouth like a giggle.
So much fun to hear, like the toot of a trumpet.
Everyone knows the musical fruit.
The pure sound of Dante’s Italian distorted
into a flatulent burst of dialect,
the fagiolo of the dictionary
transformed into a kind of drool,
beans being a good source of
humor as well as protein.
Pasta fazool,
how I dreaded that dish as a child,
those pebbly bullets of bean,
the mush of the macaroni.
Was this how chalk would taste,
or gunpowder, if you dared to eat it?
At dinner, I’d try to make a dent in the minefield
by sneaking a few clumps down to
the cocker spaniel at my feet,
but she would always hold out for the steak.
Much later, when foodies start to hail the miracle
of lowly legumes, the humble bean finds
its way into flaky biscuits, fashionable dips.
High in magnesium, pumped with iron,
a rocket of nutrition.
Mix chickpeas with interesting grains,
says The New York Times.
Pasta fazool becomes quinoa and chick peas
and shows up at dinner
on the Upper East Side.
Oh funny fazool, these days I turn to you often,
singing praise for all your variations….
with farro o fusilli,
with fennel or feta,
my palate having matured,
your reputation now respected,
the need for comfort ever present.
LET US KNOW WHAT YOU THINK