In Cynthia Gallaher’s collection of 64 poems of praise for all things epicurean, we are introduced to, for one, the wonderful world of the egg. Stanza by breathless stanza, the egg,—“encased among straw each morning” awaits us “right in time for breakfast” at the end of the last line, as well as other pleasures as we move from this poem to other impeccably crafted,—and minutely researched poems.

What surprises await us, what gems of information to wonder and savor: who knew that figs are not the vegan treat we thought they were, but rather an amalgam of wasp wings, wasp antennae, wasp feet, and other material, as so aptly mentioned in the title of “Figs: Animal, Vegetable and Mineral?” Who knew that every honey hive hums in “C-sharp below middle C”? Who knew that asparagus “can grow s e v e n inches in one day?” You will find these and so many other fascinating ‘foodie’ facts in this wise verbal romp.

There is magic here in these mostly free verse poems, various in format, and length that sing thanks to Cynthia’s refined attention to language and how language can sound. What also pleases this reader is Cynthia Gallaher’s light touch and humor throughout this book of poetry that keeps the poems moving from page to page with great élan and zing.

Perhaps this is the time to share 3 stanzas out of 5 stanzas from one of Cynthia Gallaher’s poems that nicely illustrates her alliterative/verbal magic. The poem is titled—“Massachusetts Cranberries”

afloat, a party of redheads on a giant waterbed,
squeezed into cozy corners before they freeze
by sleepy workers hip-high on prophylactic waders

or are they gathered like scarlet colonies
of miniature planet mars vanquished to earth
set loose from ancient-armored spaceships barrels.

through the processing factory window
brigades of tangy spheres bounce madly
florid against the backdrop of thick snow.

Please notice the lovely control of the three stanzas, and the precise and vivid language throughout.

There are so many delightful poems in “EPICUREAN ECSTASY.” Here is another example:

“Sprouts”
(6 stanzas out of 9 stanzas)

is the tangled tango at the salad bar
a dance floor? or ritual of mung, alfalfa,

garbanzo, radish sprouts,
at the superfoods temple.

skinny legs genuflect
as regularly as altar boys.

how many times have your hosts dried,
died and arisen from pure water?

no clock, climate, soil or sunshine,
only moisture needs coax you to unwind

your wiry explosions of life to jette
in a roundabout way.

Notice again, the control of stanzas, the jauntiness of language, its insouciance. The author finds great delight in delighting us and she has succeeded beautifully.

taking the same time as an over-easy whirl,
adding orderly, odd moments to peck around

and get cozy on her nest,
the chicken lays her egg.

“Massachusetts Cranberries” (page 21) asks:

. . .are they gathered like scarlet colonies
of miniature planet mars vanquished to earth,
set loose from ancient-armored spaceship barrels[?]

while “Purple Coneflower Echinacea” (page 78) is credited with:

arming us
with abundant arsenals
of roots in our cellars
to help make the common cold
a scarcity.

Overall, the poems are entertaining and enlightening. The choice of free verse for a collection which is light, but not frivolous, seems perfect. Forced rhyme on top of the easy-going tone might have lent a nursery rhyme feel, as it does momentarily when “The Irish Potato Famine” (page 54) unexpectedly dips briefly into and out of an abcb pattern.

Epicurean Ecstasy is a project at which Gallaher fully succeeds. Any reader wanting what might be thought of as the backstory or personal life of food will be amply rewarded.

******

About the reviewer: Lennart Lundh is the author of sixteen books of poetry, two collections of short-fiction, and six works on military aviation history. His work has appeared internationally since 1965.

Whimsical Food Romp

I thoroughly enjoyed reading Epicurean Ecstasy. Not only was the poetry wonderful, but I learned a lot about certain foods and especially about herbs and spices.
My favorite poem was “Found Champagne Poem in an Unclaimed Wisconsin Corner”.

~ Jenene Ravesloot, author of Sliders, The Chronicles of Scarbo, and Floating Worlds, and co-host of Chicago’s Poetry Night at the Outdoor Cafe