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Robbi Nester: Delicious
I almost never write a love poem. I’m not sure how
to voice that feeling, envy people wise in the ways
of warm embraces. Instead, I spend long hours
in the kitchen, whipping up some special treat
for those who probably won’t eat it, like
the Chanukah extravaganzas I used to spend
so many days planning and preparing every year—
latkes and homemade applesauce, a golden braid
of challah, two kinds of soup, salads and desserts.
I didn’t let the guests know how much it meant
to have them share my table. They would often
cancel, leaving us to eat the meal alone. For me,
love has to rise like bread dough, worked until
it has a tender crumb. It’s not simple, though maybe
simplicity might come, if I work hard enough.
I couldn’t write about my parents till they’d
been dead for years. Slow learner, but I tell myself
the slowest soup captures the deepest flavor.
~
~~~
Poem copyright 2026 Robbi Nester
Robbi Nester is a poet and writer who lives in Southern, California. Her most recent collection of poems is About to Disappear (Shanti Arts, 2025).
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Robbi: What a delicious preparation of words for our delight! What time did you say we are to arrive? I’ll bring a perfect bottle of wine and a fully risen appetite!
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Cooking for others is the way I show love, too. Breaking bread with family and friends is everything. Beautiful, nourishing poem, Robbi.
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What heart in this poem — how I would have loved to sing at your table! Light (s) and peace to you!
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I really like this poem. Warm-hearted and generous.
Thanks.
Charles ________________________________
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I do too. Thanks, Charles!
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Wonderful poem, crafted like the best Challah, the slowest soup. And that mix of feeling, the loneliness in the midst of joy and plenty, the labor. Delicious love poem, Robbi! Thank you, Michael!
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Thank YOU, Mary!
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Wonderful poem by a wonderful and generous poet.
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I agree!
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Not Jewish but learned of love and food from a neighbor who spent hours making kreplach. For a time I braided challah and made matzo ball soup when someone was ill. Now with me a vegetarian and kids with celiac, I rarely cook anything that takes time and energy. Thanks for the memories. ( please forgive my lack of knowledge of spelling the delicacies)
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Thanks, Barb.
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I love this poem–it is so carefully prepared and wise.
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Isn’t it, though?
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I would also add that the same could be true of grief poems as love poems: Patience lends depth.
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Well-said, Jim. Thank you!
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If your soup is as good as your love poem, then I would happily be a guest at your ladle.
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Such a true love poem, Robbi. The slowest soup does indeed capture the deepest flavour. This moving poem warmed my heart.
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Yes, the poet has captured the complicated mix of feelings we experience during the holidays: joy and excitement, but also sadness and regret…
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