Day 8

crumb

flake

velvet

six eggs

one litre

flick whisk

strain fine

butter, sugar, salt

flour, air, cold

water poured slowly

pulse pulse pulse

rest

wait

roll

pour

bake

mouthfeel

 

Today’s prompt was to write a poem in which mysterious and magical things occur. I spent the day baking, and almost wrote skeltonic verse on xanthan gum and polysaccharides, but the rhymes wouldn’t materialize. So a crusted custard it is.

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