Supper in the Native Tongue

The laboratory seemed safer.

At least I knew which combinations would kill me there.

No cocino Americano.

Cooking in general

was not a thing I knew much about.

But a lioness wants her cub to eat

and cubs miss their favorites.

It starts with meat,

(What else for a hungry cub?)

and then wine,

or if you’d rather, some juice.

Just liquid and sweet is the important part.

(But what about the amount?)

And then ketchup,

or tomato sauce.

Heck, even some kinds of jelly.

Just sweet and thick is the important part.

(A teaspoon? A tablespoon? A cup?)

Oh and vegetables.

Sweet of course.

A carrot, maybe.

Celery, why not?

Onions, if you have them,

brown them with the meat.

But if you don’t it will work too.

Vegetables are important.

(How much? Cut how fine?)

Brown, and then put in a pot,

or a crockpot.

(I put down my note pad)

Cook,

well, just until its fall apart done.

(Of course)

I look at my notes.

And realize my mother cooked the same way.

Just not Americano. 

Song choice: No Speak Americano by Yolanda B Cool & DCup
This poem was created from a prompt offered by Magaly Guerrero for NaPoWriMo (Day 20: Finger Licking Good - A poem with a recipe)