Thursday, December 1, 2016

December 1: Book Club Food, Elizabeth Alexander, "Butter"

It's Book Club night at my house.  My wife is in the kitchen, whipping up some barbecue chicken dish.  Soon, our dining room table will be full of all kinds of delicious treats.  Chili and shrimp and cheese curds.  Oh, and we'll talk about a book, too.

Tonight's literature of choice is The Boys in the Boat.  The food of choice remains to be seen.  I'm sort of leaning towards the cheese curds.

But Saint Marty is always up for something new, as long as it has a lot of butter in it.


by:  Elizabeth Alexander

My mother loves butter more than I do,
more than anyone. She pulls chunks off
the stick and eats it plain, explaining
cream spun around into butter! Growing up
we ate turkey cutlets sauteed in lemon
and butter, butter and cheese on green noodles,
butter melting in small pools in the hearts
of Yorkshire puddings, butter better
than gravy staining white rice yellow,
butter glazing corn in slipping squares,
butter the lava in white volcanoes
of hominy grits, butter softening
in a white bowl to be creamed with white
sugar, butter disappearing into
whipped sweet potatoes, with pineapple,
butter melted and curdy to pour
over pancakes, butter licked off the plate
with warm Alaga syrup. When I picture
the good old days I am grinning greasy
with my brother, having watched the tiger
chase his tail and turn to butter. We are
Mumbo and Jumbo’s children despite   
historical revision, despite
our parent’s efforts, glowing from the inside
out, one hundred megawatts of butter.

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