“The ‘Golden Rope’ Crowd Heard From” Tanka 2640


(November 26, 2019)

the juvenile sweet

potatoes twenty-nine cents

got this one complaint*!

“can I have ‘the big ones’

at the same price? Well, why not?”

*(Greengrocer Steve related as I searched for what became four pounds of delight – three of the hand-sized orbs became supper with butter and grade b maple syrup, plenty of freshly ground black pepper, Kosher salt and a hint of both cinnamon and nutmeg, each freshly grated I relished the skins – and like their not-cousins at all Burbanks, et al., much if not most of the vitamins and minerals hide near the outside. I have relatives who know now to toss me their baked potato skins for my doggie – arf! arf! – bag. Dry roasted with more butter and a dollop of sour cream they almost compete with hot buttered popcorn as a midnight repast.

Back to Steve: “The lady was really upset and she insisted I go back to “Receiving” and round up some much bigger sweet potatoes at the same $.29 per pound price. I told her we did not have an bigger ones in stock and that was all we had – which was true as I wandered back to receiving with Steve to hunt for Sprouts to shred and pan roast with shallots. The big ones were due in that afternoon and probably would cost half-a-fortune.

Some people would complain if they were to be hanged with a golden rope, insisting only a platinum would do.)

2 thoughts on ““The ‘Golden Rope’ Crowd Heard From” Tanka 2640

    • Awww, shucks. You should see what I can do with a few – okay, more than a few – fresh by me shucked oysters (I call ’em Oh-My-Yes-ters) with reserved enough extra juice, a bit of butter and some freshly shredded – both up-n-down and cross-cut to a rather rag-tag mince of just-plucked green onion and a bit of my own hot sauce after of course bathing the ‘sters and wilten’ onion in at least half-n-half though I prefer to adulterate with a touch of fine sherry and serve as soon as the edges on those oysters curl. Done best within minutes of making shore. You, ma’am, are a most adroit flatterer. How could not the harvest season’s offerings begat less than verse…after of course a dunk in the denuded broth with a ripped crusty baguette.

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