For My Hubster

(taken at Bel Frites in SLO)

Today, I went to Borders to see if I could find a copy of Neruda's Odas Elementales (also translated as Odes to Common Things). I was browsing through a copy and found this poem. It instantly reminded me of my hubster who is one of the biggest French fry fans I know.

Ode to French Fries

What sizzles
in boiling
oil
is the world's
pleasure:
French
fries
go
into the pan
like the morning swan's
snowy
feathers
and emerge
half-golden from the olive's
crackling amber.

Garlic
lends them
its earthy aroma,
its spice,
its pollen that braved the reefs.
Then,
dressed anew
in ivory suits, they fill our plates
with repeated abundance,
and the delicious simplicity of the soil.

Who knew that French fries were so poetic? I definitely recommend reading more of Neruda's odes. Some of my favorites include Ode to Salt, Ode to Watermelon, and Ode to Cat.