This Month
Welcome to Frogfish and Pinot. We have been thinking and working on this site for a few months and May marked our official grand opening.
We are accepting submissions and right now we are especially interested in stories, tips and recipes that are summer oriented. View our submission guidelines here. Submissions
Check out our store for products that we have tested and strongly recommend.
We can be reached at info@frogfishandpinot.com
Filed under Announcements | Comment (0)Hot Fudge Sundae
by Alissa Merksamer
Mother's foamy cloud
mustaches my upper lip
speckled with peanut pebbles
that I crunch to sweet demise
White
Like a winter wind on a sunny day
it hits my pink tongue
Vanilla perfumes my mouth
black flecks like poppy seed babies
with a stronger opiate
Cold
Warm
almost hot
but that would be impossible
My rich rendezvous
that's dark like African skin
Juicy
A ruby with a sword
which I toss to plastic death
Its fluid flows with mine
and dribbles crimson from my lips
White
Cold
Warm
Juicy
Bliss
Alissa Merksamer is a food writer living in San Francisco. She spends her days nibbling salted dark chocolate and her nights downing platefuls of house-made fettuccine. When she's not eating, she's searching for San Francisco's best undiscovered gastronomic gems.
Filed under Fiction | Comment (0)Stuffing Shells
by Nick Einterz
To stuff a shell is not
to displace space spared
by the sea’s soul for sea beasts:
“sit yourself inside some other site;
you dwell too well for this sclerite”
we say to the copepods, and noodle his refuge.
While to stuff a shell is not
to earn some fake flickering fossil
on a chef’s toque lapel:
‘do not force the food,
you fagioloni filler’
I say to Commis,
“To stuff a shell is
to tell a diner well,
‘the sea’s skill set a winkle here,
I have given you ricotta!’”
Christopher Mulrooney has written poems in Vanitas, Guernica, Beeswax, echolocation, The Delinquent and fourW.
Filed under Fiction | Comment (0)Wine
Wine is sunlight, held together by water.
~Galileo
Filed under Quotes | Comment (0)Celery
by Nick Einterz
From below,
a tall stalk
half-circle, hollow, long and alone,
not of the bunch.
Cast to cistern,
stirred-in to target
staple French flavor.
Miripoix!
A nibble I
gnaw on now or then:
crème fraiche and chive,
or peanut butter.
A glossy vessel with
an agate glitter;
a vegetable
in a ratio.