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A toasted English muffin with egg saladwith the crunch of organic celery.Radio— songs from the sixties, balladswith lyrics I learned better than anymemorized theorem for Regents examsin high school. I sing along between bites.Lunch is a rack of ribs from a lamb,artichoke stuffed with seasoned breadcrumbs tightbetween the prickly leaves.Continue Reading

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It has mushrooms. Lynette G. Esposito, MA Rutgers, has been published in Poetry Quarterly, North of Oxford, Twin Decades, Remembered Arts, Reader’s Digest, US1, and others. She was married to Attilio Esposito and lives with eight rescued muses in Southern New Jersey.Continue Reading

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Coming home from playing in the snow,handmade mittens soggy, smellinglike sheep, toes frozen from snowthat slipped inside too loose boots,steamed up windows signaled seriouscooking afoot. And the aroma, vegetalyet grounded in earthy beefiness,my Grandma’s goulash, quite the dish. Onions, carrots, potatoes, tomatoesand braised stew meat, a cheapcut that softened, meltedContinue Reading

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For Marlene, soup was a broth, cataract cloudy, noodles skimming the surface like a net. It was the type she poured from packets bought at Star Market and mixed with dehydrated chicken bits and imitation carrot. Historic mushrooms wrinkled from their time out of ground set against gluey celery. Granular,Continue Reading

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Try to turn up the warmth:the hot cup of tea, the adoring puppy,the morning sun through your writing studio window,the Rumi poems, your healing sauna,your crispy chocolate chip cookies,a recipe from your grandma,and the matzo ball soup fromyour long-gone aunt,the bag of potato chips left unopened,the pink bathrobe you gotContinue Reading

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swirls of brown sugar, lumpy soup,golden pools of butter. no, you say, no!not this! the fireside, the cold walk to school.have you got everything? just gimme a granola bar. the warm, sweet glue.spooning it up. raisins.sticky spoon, residue of gumin the blue bowl. look, not even the cat will eatContinue Reading

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Simmer peanut butter and honey. Hum the yum of flavors the way you hum her swayin a black dress. Mince the onions and garlic. Remember her smile as smooth as ginger when you sautéand salt. You spin-in cinnamon. How sweet her lips. Curry-in the turmeric. Spice the cayenne—aliveas the wetContinue Reading

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The Ramen Shop was near closing when a young man walked in. Though 20 minutes before the posted time, Grace had never had a problem kicking people out early, or opening late for that matter. If anyone ever asked her about whether she lost customers for her erratic hours, she’dContinue Reading

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While outside it’s raining, and sleeting and freezing,inside my crockpot is bubbling with fragrant stew,offering me generous comfort and companionship,embracing the entire house with its delicious aroma oftasty promise, a guarantee of sorts against thecold and hunger,hunger for food to comfort my body,hunger for food to feed my soul withculinaryContinue Reading

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The stew splashedas the wind stirredthe lightning-warmedbroth…such a sight to seeat the beginning. The new cook in the kitchentook a sip and grinned…This is good. Lynette G. Esposito, MA Rutgers, has been published in Poetry Quarterly, North of Oxford, Twin Decades, Remembered Arts, Reader’s Digest, US1, and others. She wasContinue Reading