Poetry and photography of

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Last Night I Ate Kohlrabi

Light bright green

With strong tendons running up the side

Connecting to a canopy of leaves,

You looked like a visitor from outer space

Crunchy like an apple

With the taste of fresh cabbage

Yet not straying far from the image of a turnip

Last night I roasted you with olive oil, salt and garlic,

Mr. Kohlrabi,

You were a delightful side dish

Had I known this in my youth,

I would have sought you out and enjoyed you frequently

Instead, I have waited until the autumn of my years

To erase the ignorance that kept me from you

While understanding that discovery never ends 

Leftovers

The cold slices of chicken breast grilled the night before

Became the centerpiece of a meal designed for two

Waiting for the addition of condiments and spices

To add new life and taste as the transformation began

 

Pepperoncini, tomato and red onion kissed the avocado slices laced with sea salt

As a diced jalapeno pepper, denuded of seeds, spread its latent warmth

Whole wheat tortillas heated in the microwave with shredded mozzarella

Hinted at the nearness of the meal while beckoning aromas stimulated salivary glands

 

At last the ingredients old and new were loaded on top of the tortillas

Folded into burritos and sprinkled with Tabasco and Tapatio sauces

White wine in tall glasses awaited the serving

As the suspense-filled moments of the first few bites arrived

 

Could the new offering be better than the original?

Was it possible to form an endless chain of dinners, one meal morphing from another?

In an instant the answer was obvious: yes, it was possible! Hallelujah!

Who knows where the leftovers end and the new meal begins? Hallelujah!