Who Among You Knows the Essence of Garlic?
Can your foreigner's nose smell mullets roasting in a glaze of brown bean paste and sprinkled with novas of sea salt?
Can you hear my grandmother chant the mushroom's sutra?
Can you hear the papays crying as they bleed in porcelain plates?
I'm telling you that the bamboo slips the long pliant shoots of its myriad soft tongues into your mouth that is full of oranges.
I'm saying that the silver waterfalls of bean threads will burst in hot oil and stain your lips like zinc.
The marbled skin of the blue mackerel works good for men. The purple oils from its flesh perfume the tongues of women.
If you swallow them whole, the rice cakes soaking in a broth of coconut milk and brown sugar will never leave the bottom of your stomach.
Flukes of giant black mushrooms leap from their murky tubs and strangle the toes of young carrots.
Broiling chickens ooze grease,yellow tears of fat collect and spatter in the smoking pot.
Soft ripe pears, blushing on the kitchen window sill,kneel like plump women taking a long, luxurious shampoo,and invite you to bite their hips.
Why not grab basketfuls of steaming noodles,lush and slick as the hair of a fine lady,and squeeze?
The shrimps, big as Portuguese thumbs,stew among cut guavas, red onions,ginger root, and rosemary in lemon juice,the palm oil bubbling to the top,breaking through layers and layers of shredded coconut and sliced cashews.
Who among you knows the essence of garlic and black lotus root,of red and green peppers sizzling among squads of oysters in the skillet,of crushed ginger, fresh green onions,and pale-blue rice wine simmering in the stomach of a big red fish?
-- Garrett Hongo
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