PISTACHIO HALVAH

ODE TO A CHUNK OF PISTACHIO HALVAH


~ Joy Krauthammer


Oh, to celebrate my birthday,
what do I desire?
HALVAH, delicious Pistachio Halvah
Blended in whole nuts, not pieces.

Age 18, I received Pistachio Halvah
via my aunt, from her Turkish man, Nuri.
With the memory, I still salivate.

When I was a child
my parents gave to me
on each birthday
a small jar of baby Gherkin pickles.
They lasted until the next year
on my birthday.
How?
Each day, carefully
I took a very small bite
out of a pickle from the jar
and put back the reduced pickle.

My friend from age 13, Sheila, still
recalls my ritual
of the single wee pickle bite
to last all year, my delight.
I let Sheila have a baby pickle baby bite.

How could something
briny, bumpy and green
have been so precious?
(This year, 48 years later
I have pickled my own pickles.)

Now I'm 61, friend Rochelle
listens to my desires,
and from Turkey
shleps all the way,
Pistachio Halvah for me.
Am I so easy to please?
On my birthday at shul, I receive it.
How holy can be Halvah and Rochelle!

Pistachio Halvah
won't last
until my next birthday
because
I share it
and
I eat chunks.

Oh, Pistachio Halvah
you taste so good
all the way from Turkey
with Rochelle
whose heart is so big and so kind
to remember what I like and for me
"ropes" in Pistachio Halvah
and crosses 'customs'
with my precious cargo.

Pistachio Halvah is here
always at the local Turkish store, but
it would not be a gift of love to me.
.
.