Wednesday, June 15, 2011

On making an Omelette

Yellow innocence in a dreamy puddle.
(A flaming sun on a watery sky, for the heliocentrically inclined. Or wabi in a china bowl, for the orientally inclined.)

Greeted by a salty conscience, reproached by the sanguine grit of chilli, beguiled by the sorcery of pepper. Add the tender lament of chopped onion, to taste. Stir repeatedly, until the contents weave a fluid tapestry in anarchy.

Onto the sparkling eagerness of a lonely pan. Brown blushes of initiatory awkwardness, a simmering companionship arbitrated by the buttery lenience of a spatula. Flip as needed. A geometry of browned white and scrambled yellow, measured to taste. Serve hot.