On my morning walk in the forest
I know what I'm looking for
The caps that dwell on the sides
of trees and down in the undergrowth;
Mushrooms are my passion, my Italian cuisine
would be lost without the Portabellas,
the Porcinis and the Chanterelles;
To see them frying in my pan
Just gives me a thrill.
I am Antonio, and my mushroom paradise
is a forest with every edible kind: the morels,
truffles and shitake, oysters and reishi
Friends, I invite you to my kitchen!
Antonio il cacciatore di funghi
Nella mia passeggiata mattutina nella foresta
so cosa sto cercando
i cappelli che vivono sui lati
degli alberi e giù nel sottobosco;
I funghi sono la mia passione, la mia cucina italiana
sarebbe persa senza i portabella,
i porcini e i finferli;
vederli friggere nella mia padella
mi dà un brivido.
Io sono Antonio e il mio paradiso dei funghi
è una foresta con ogni tipo commestibile: le spugnole,
i tartufi e gli shitake, le ostriche e i reishi
Amici, vi invito nella mia cucina!
Have them all the time now from my Italian/Vietnamese cook. But the ones I remember most were what grew under the trees when it rained between the curb and the sidewalk. My grandfather called them, buttons, and before he fried them in butter, he would always boil some with a silver spoon and if it tarnished, they were poisonous!
Using Calgary as a backdrop the author satirizes the self-serving nature of the public as it continues to fatten itself, not only physically, but egotistically as well.
This collection of poetry addresses the nature of time, reflections on the natural world, the difficulty of loss,
contemporary social issues and gratitude for life.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Ron