This is in reply to a challenge on writing a poem about….beets! You heard me, beets. I don’t like beets. My mom used to force me to eat beets, and I don’t know why she had to do that, but the damage has been done. I’m not sure if even therapy can cure me from this damage. But here it is, the answer to the challenge. Just for fun, folks. It won’t change me in my relationship with beets.

In a time to meet and greet
I must say I know nothing of thee
you’re not wheat
and you’re not what I would call a treat

So what are you?

Red like the color of heat
very nutritious indeed
I stay away from you on the street
but you seem hard to defeat

So what should I do with you?

Perhaps one day I will succumb to you, beet
that means, you know, to eat
and declare my defeat
after all, somebody said you are sweet


A Strange Encounter

Perkedel Jagung.

Image via Wikipedia

Spring weather is here.

It was warmer than usual on my way home today from work. I was driving when I decided to roll down the window a bit to let the fresh air in. Suddenly I smelled a whiff of a nice smell, food. Figure, I was hungry. But this is not just a smell of any food, it is a familiar smell. I honestly don’t know what type of food it was because I was driving pass small-size restaurants on the side of the street, so it was almost impossible to know from which restaurant the smell was coming from. It was familiar because within that moment, those few (miserable) seconds, I was brought back in time and thousands of kilometers away into my past, into my hometown, and into my HOME. I realized then that it was the smell of….perkedel.  

What? Perkedel? Does any one even know what perkedel is? Please tell me that I’m not crazy?

Yes, it was the smell of perkedel that I smelled. With all of these famous Indonesian food and dishes, why in the world would I (consciously or unconsciously) choose to remember perkedel? Was my mind playing trick on me, I asked. No, it was the exact smell of perkedel that I smelled.

See, my mom used to make perkedel often back then. On average, I would say there was at least one time a week when we had perkedel as part of our meal. It was actually easy to make, I don’t know why I haven’t tried to make it even once ever since I came to the U.S. The funny thing is, it was not like I miss eating perkedel either. Ha ha ha… This is just too funny. Trust me, I have long time ago made a long list of Indonesian dishes that I will HAVE TO eat the next time I travel home, and surprise surprise, perkedel is not on the list.

So why perkedel? Oh well, I think I will need to seek therapy in order to get the answer to this, because it is a subconscious way of my mind to tell me perhaps that I’m HOMESICK. Helloou?