growing up
on Chicago’s south side
we ate what my mother cooked
meat and potatoes
with canned vegetables
and little else
until I discovered the bakery
with all those wonderful
cakes and cookies
I couldn’t talk her
into buying a cake,
but occasionally
I could talk her into
buying me a cream horn
filled with a light marshmallow mix
later when Grandma
would give me candy money
I would go for a cream puff
a lighter than air confection
with a crisp shell
containing sweetened cream
whipped to a froth
as a young adult
I learned how to make these
I still wonder how one
could know in advance
that eggs, flour, and oil
cooked in a sauce pot
then baked could
get so fluffy
© 2010 Sandy Vrooman
My grandmother made these. Magical to watch her make them. She even put the little swans on the top. It was a super day when she did this. Love the photos here as well as the poems.
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