'Nilla Cookies

Large glass bowl, like a clear dome, 

Sits heavily like some fat bottomed woman 

On the black granite kitchen slab.

Waiting for me 

To decide what treat I'm going to settle on today.

Once decided, 

I work my way to the fridge.

Cutting through creamy butter 

I let each bit glide into the mixing bowl

And hear the soft plop of each chunk and sliver as they drop to the bottom.

From the gigantic sugar jar-

Trusty friend and foe...

It's what I reach for,

First thing every morning for my cup of tea...

For when little ones have a bleeding lip and nonstop tears...

For after a spoonful of bitter medicine...

For adding to curd after a fiery, spice-rich meal.

I pour white sugar into the butter

Making a gentle whoosh 

The sound of thousands of sugar crystals 

Hitting glass

As it flows in steadily.

Electric whisk gets to work next, 

Creaming the two together,

Until it turns into a delicate, ivory cloud

I watch the two whisks whirring, 

Spinning wildly

Like twin ballerinas gone mad, losing control

While I, in turn, try to control the splatter 

From turning my polka dotted tiles 

Into a beautiful mess.

Cracking the eggs open carefully, 

On the side of my fat bottomed bowl

I try to separate the sunny, happy yolks 

To add to this delicious creamy mix..

As I catch the yolks unbroken, 

My heart leaps at the tiny victory of catching each one.

The colour lifts my mood at once.

Some yolks breaking...

Frustrating. 

Never mind.

In goes the flour and the whisking now gets tougher

My mad twin ballerina whisks grow tired and slow

As the mixture grows stiffer and thicker, 

Ugly lumps appear, and disappear.

Until they spin faster again.

Tiny glass vanilla essence bottle 

That fits in my palm

Makes me nostalgic 

Makes me daydream of home

And all the other happy smells that take me way back 

Into some lovely reverie 

Vanilla drops dive right in, 

Flooding my kitchen with the sweet scent of love and homely bakeries

Until I top it all off with a pinch of salt.

Preheated oven,

Open wide like a greedy monster, 

Red glow deep inside looks inviting,

Beckoning to my humble dented cookie tray

And in she goes too eagerly,

Ready

To come out minutes later

Bringing with her,

Delicious vanilla wafers out of my happy kitchen.

©️ Rebecca Manari 

23-1-'21