My son and grand-daughter
are making gingerbread,
wearing matching aprons.
Crisis: unsalted butter left out
went soft – but they find enough.
When mixed, the dough must go in the fridge
three hours – like short crust, they say.
They tell me the ingredients:
things I can’t eat, but they’ll give me
a tiny piece. After all, it's Christmas.
The next item mustn’t be added
until the last is measured.
‘Mix slowly into the wet stuff.’
The beaters whirr and grind.
A knife scrapes a spoon. I hear
deliberations, and laughter.
I expect to enjoy my taste when I get it.
Love this gingerbread poem, Rosemary! I haven't made any kind of biscuit or cake in years - I think the new grandchild will change that when he arrives next year. I love the picture of your son and grand-daughter in matching aprons. I'm the same with things I can't eat.
ReplyDeleteOh! these sweet little things are so much fun and a bonding time for the family.
ReplyDeleteAh yes!!! a poem to read slowly and to savor the taste of good family cheer at this Season.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this sweet slow read in response to my prompt Rosemary.
Here's wishing you and yours a Very Merry Christmas
much love...
Oh i do remember the slow process of making ginger bread... the waiting of the dough for at least 24 hours in the recipe I know...
ReplyDeleteGingerbread tastes sweeter when loving hands make it. :)
ReplyDeleteLovely. I remember making gingerbread for my kids.......
ReplyDeletethe taste is much more than the ingredients. it is the sweet love of family. enjoy your Christmas
ReplyDeleteNever made gingerbread but as you said it does take time to make a masterpiece. Enjoyed this slow read
ReplyDeleteThis is fantastic. I especially like the matching aprons and this adorable transition:
ReplyDelete"Crisis: unsalted butter"
What a sweet poem!..I smile......as my tummy growls :)
ReplyDelete