Rice & . . . Food Prompt

Rice & Captain Bobo

A poem about food companionship & memories

No rice and eggs like Carolyn’s Wesley, no sliced beef like Lucy, maybe, vegan arroz con gandules like that of a Puerto Rican friend —  the best I ever had and free from pork and bacon fat.

Or, maybe the veggie stir-fry my daughter whips up with colorful chunks of peppers, broccoli (before I was allergic), carrot slivers, and fresh ginger.

Perhaps, Spanish paella with garlic, bell pepper, parsley, peas, saffron — I’d leave out the seafood or chicken but be overly generous with olive oil and white wine.

Perhaps, a dessert of rice, my daughter’s pudding made with canned milk and fresh cinnamon sticks, cooked slowly for more than an hour, and richer than Trump thinks he is.

All those are delicious, worthy of my time and appetite, but if I could pick one — just one — it would be Captain Bobo’s chili — my veggie version — sorry, Dad — named for the dog who skippered my father’s boat for a decade.

1960s white mid-Atlantic America, only Chinese restaurants served rice, but in our house, it sat like lumpy white sheets beneath spicy red-brown chili, adding a little starch to ease the heat.

The chili that my grandkids loved and helped make, standing on chairs to stir the pot, eyes wet with tears from habanero-infused steam that filtered to all corners of our home.

A plop of white rice with a big ladle of zesty chili — tofu crumbles in place of braised sirloin cubes —  a combo of habaneros and jalapenos in place of Dad’s milder cayenne.

A Corona beer to cool, or maybe a hearty red wine to stretch the burn, savoring the warmth that slides down my throat.

Yes, that would be my choice.

But, not now, with my grandchildren so far away — I tried once — but no one should eat chili alone.

My chili and rice will wait, maybe forever, ’cause it’s just not the same — alone.*

*(Captain Argentina doesn’t like chili.)

When I was a kid, my father invented his own chili recipe. In the early 1960s, few white Americans knew what chili was, and his version was considered very spicy. Our local paper once did a series on unusual foods and asked for original chili recipes. Without asking his permission, I typed up my father’s and sent it in to be published.

But, submissions were required to have a unique recipe name — not just Best Chili or Mom’s Chili. I named my father’s recipe Captain Bobo’s Chili after our dog — a white toy poodle who was my father’s best, and maybe, only friend. They went everywhere together, including on my father’s crabbing boat. Bobo was known all over our area of coastal Virginia. His tiny white body stood fearlessly on the bow of my father’s boat, never teetering as the boat plowed through Potomac River waters in search of my father’s bright orange crab pot buoys.

Six chili recipes were sent to the paper, and the editor chose Captain Bobo’s as the best. My father was so proud.

This Rice & story was in response to this prompt by Carolyn Hastings:

And, hers was in response to this original prompt by Lucy The Eggcademic (she/her):

Since I often respond to Lucy’s prompts or prompts from Lucy’s prompts and always forget to tag people to continue the chain, I will do so now.

If so inclined, I ask these 10 Mediumites to respond to this question in any form they choose: What foods do you like to eat with rice?

Carolyn Riker /Ann Litts / Daniel A. Teo / Jack Herlocker / Amy Marley / Tej

Mark Starlin / James Finn / Tre L. Loadholt / Suryatapa

© Dennett 2021