Over at dVerse Poets, Abhra is urging us to write about our own cultural heritage via the uniqueness of our food and recipes. I thought I’d attempt something different: a prose-poem of sorts about experiencing Romanian food as an outsider, a child who had spent most of her life abroad.
You’ve Never Had Anything Like This
‘You’ve never had anything like this before.’
Uh-oh, here it comes, with warning lights!
As if I’d fall for tricks like that again. They’ve said it before, they can say it again. Too many times.
Usually, it involves something that looks like dog’s vomit covered in mayo.
Or meat wrapped up – for no good reason – in cabbage that’s gone off. They fill my mouth with sour revenge. For living abroad, for escaping them for ten months a year.
But this time, it’s a dessert. I have a sweet tooth, which I’m not allowed to acknowledge. However, this time… my carrot-munching, sugar-banning mother isn’t around. And even she cannot control what my aunt gives me in her own home.
I move in closer.
It’s foamy-white and quivers at the bottom of a bowl. I sink a spoon into its springiness and scoop it into my mouth. It melts on my tongue with creamy-egged smoothness and lingering longings of vanilla.
I gobble it up and ask for more.
‘What is it?’