Food, for One Thing​

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I’m driven by food.

Raspberry tartelettes

from practically any patisserie,

or original snowballs

from a particular Chinese place

on Avenue de Clichy.

 

So many of my favorites

have gone away

while I still cling

to the memory of their taste.

Starting with Aunt Sally cookies,

oblong spice-flavored

platters nearly covered

in chewy vanilla frosting.

My sister doesn’t remember them

although we could eat

nearly an entire package together.

Discontinued. Disappeared.

Abruptly and a long time ago.

 

Even packaged meals.

Like lasagna as I first learned it

or pot pies, so easy to make,

so decadent to digest.

Kathy and I must have made those

at least a hundred times.

Hidden gems in the frozen food aisle

or grocery store spice racks

that just didn’t cut it

with enough other customers.

It makes me feel

like I must have

the most peculiar of tastes.

Recently, Progresso’s

French onion soup,

so basic, and a good starting point,

but no longer stocked

in favor of something trendy,

blended, or spiced up.

 

Mostly I lose restaurants,

predominantly Chinese.

House of Roy in Boston’s Chinatown

was renowned far and wide,

a hole-in-the-wall destination

for quality and authenticity

that served its last dish

when the oldest generation passed on.

The reasons for others

aren’t so well known.

A drop-off in business?

A loss of drive and the dedication

needed to sustain a place?

Hung sue gai and wonton soup

were done just right

at the Americanized Peach Garden,

and it lasted for years.

Sesame chicken had no peer

at the place I can no longer name,

but I could take you there in a minute.

 

Matt once told me

I should write a guide

to Asian places

throughout my travels,

but so many

have left the landscape,

no longer to be found.

Menus change,

owners move on.

 

I could have you eating

exquisite meals

for months in a row

if places and foods

would just stay put

long enough to savor them.

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