gruyere

12 Jul

Just a sliver on the tongue,

 eyes closed,

my head rocks like Stevie Wonder for the

layers in this cheese.

How does this slice,

no bigger than a tack,

compare to a stack

of plastic-wrapped american cheese?

Am I finished with the tasteless,

candy-colored,

numb-tongue empty?

A droplet stretches into an ocean,

of blackberry,

of caper,

now basil.

New life is birthed here,

upon the buds,

not with cesarian and doctor bills,

but with

whole cream teats,

plated wind,

full-bodied rain,

water with legs.

Corner-clip me some 85% cacao,

for

next,

each day,

one grain of rice.

Here is the trick:

each grain contains

the world

of every taste

within.

 

 

15 Responses to “gruyere”

  1. seeingm July 12, 2014 at 3:57 pm #

    How lovely to sail the sea of cheese with you this morning 🙂 .

    Morning listening:

    -x.M

    • marga t. July 12, 2014 at 4:02 pm #

      What is a Saturday in July without some cheesy Primus. It’s like you joined me for breakfast; pass the marmalade, please. xo! m

  2. Hariod Brawn July 12, 2014 at 5:11 pm #

    A ‘cave aged’ post, just like the very finest Gruyere.

    Hariod ❤

    • marga t. July 12, 2014 at 5:33 pm #

      Hmmm, you plunge me deeper into the mystery of the infusion of darkness and silence into our flavors. Delicious!

      • Hariod Brawn July 12, 2014 at 5:40 pm #

        An aside:

        Here in England, the males are obsessed with football and have no time for the finer things in life, such as cave-aged Gruyere.

        The national team captain was once asked in an interview what his favourite cheese was.

        He looked a little puzzled, before responding ‘melted cheese!’.

    • marga t. July 12, 2014 at 5:51 pm #

      To your aside: oh dear, how excellent. The question would never even be asked here of a football player, so perhaps the scale can be adjusted even downward from “melted.” No showy connoisseur here, but I am enjoying a renewal of the full sense experience of many things after finding Peter Kingsley (now he fits my stereotype of a Brit!)

      • Hariod Brawn July 12, 2014 at 5:54 pm #

        Indeed so; wonderful video of P.K. by the way.

  3. Andrea July 12, 2014 at 5:36 pm #

    This is oh so sensually delicious!

    • marga t. July 12, 2014 at 5:58 pm #

      Are you free for lunch? xo!

  4. smilecalm July 12, 2014 at 5:48 pm #

    smiling to real cheese
    & Stevie singing 🙂

  5. viewpacific July 12, 2014 at 7:36 pm #

    Very yummy! I could almost taste the cheese, and I admit to rocking my head as I did so.

    • marga t. July 13, 2014 at 3:28 pm #

      Oh yay, on the head rocking 🙂 When my girls were little, they used to woof down chocolate, it seemed to me, without tasting, so I made them sit down and close their eyes and eat it slowly so to really taste it. When they did that, they would rock in place in a way that looked like Stevie Wonder to me. Somehow the cheese is doing this to me now. Sending the sun over to you – hope it arrives by sunset 🙂

  6. Michael July 13, 2014 at 12:41 pm #

    As a recovering footballer, which Hariod may rightly conclude was an inevitable detour along my path given that my earliest memories of cheese actually involved cheese “product”– that’s right, I once assisted my mother in picking the right ingot of Velveeta Cheese Product down off the shelf and placing it into the metal wicker cart– I am thankful to report that even the least among us can recover from their past. (I will be watching the World Cup Final today, nonetheless. But no Velveeta.)

    Your descriptions of the depth and transmuting character of flavors is great. I find myself needing to stop myself in my writing from re-using the analogy of the way flavors evolve as a proxy for the complexity of the way mindfulness sifts through the strata of even the simplest of moments. I leave here fulfilled… 🙂

    Michael

    • marga t. July 13, 2014 at 3:31 pm #

      Ah, Velveeta. What a childhood we all experienced, eh? May the moments of your day, including the world cup viewing, fill you to brim with the pleasure of experience. m

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