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Poetry


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Soda Bread

By MikeMorris

10 August 2006

Soda Bread

On Saturday we all baked bread,
Gracie and Maddy and me.
Every one had a different job,
Mine was to oversee.

Maddy read out the recipe
She told us the things to get
Out of the pantry and cupboard
And whether we needed them yet.

Grace was our special weigher-out
To measure the flour and salt.
She did the job so very well
There wasn't a single fault.

Salt and flour went into the bowl
And some bread soda too
Then Gracie added the buttermilk
When Madeleine told her to.

Now Grace and Maddy began to knead,
Their hands all lovely and white.
They added more flour to stiffen the dough,
To make the texture right.

They rolled the dough into a ball,
And Gracie patted it flat
Maddy then cut a cross on the loaf
And that was the end of that.

Now into the oven the loaf was put,
That had to be my job
'Cos ovens are hot and nasty burnt hands,
Would cause little girls to sob.

In less than an hour the loaf was cooked
And I carefully took it out.
When Grace and Maddy saw their work
They each gave a little shout,

'Mum! Dad! Come and see our loaf'
We've made it all ourself
It's better than bread you get from a shop
Or a supermarket shelf.'

And when you spread some butter on
Each crumbly, crusty slice
We're sure that you are bound to say,
'This bread tastes very nice'

'For we had a special, magic thing
That you really can't buy anywhere.
When we baked that loaf for you
We added our love and our care.'

Reviews

Soda bread means ........
Written by Bagheera (683 comments posted) 10th August 2006

......... Irish cuisine = happy holiday memories!

I can smell it as I read your poem - wish I could taste it!
Thanks for the memory
Bagheera

Written by MikeMorris (106 comments posted) 10th August 2006

Thanks for the review, Bagheera. Glad you enjoyed The Auld Sod.
If I could send you a farl I would! I could e-mail the recipe?
Mike

Soda Bread
Written by Josie (2785 comments posted) 12th August 2006

I liked your poem with its smooth rhythm as the job of bread making went along. I would have just changed one little tiny thing, though: "This bread tastes ever so nice". It fills the line a little more and balances the rhythm a bit better, but this is such a small thing that it's hardly worth mentioning. I can smell your bread. We make bread (but we use a bread maker). It's not the same as when you make it the proper way. Perhaps you could have said something about the smell of the bread cooking. It's lovely to come into a cooking where bread is cooking. Well done.

Soda bread
Written by Josie (2785 comments posted) 12th August 2006

Sorry, "to come into a kitchen where bread is cooking".

Dia duit.
Written by gerardconnolly (1186 comments posted) 13th August 2006

Hello Mike.

Very smooth bit of atmospreric nostalgia.

For reasons I'm sure you will understand I like to think I know a good Soda farl when I taste one. In Galway it was called Ribbon or sometimes 'ciste '[Cake] bread. Though it's heartening to find the tradition was carried on in Ardwick. My mother, God rest her soul, often flavoured it with the local feamainn we harvested from the rock pools around Galway Bay. Though I don't suppose you got much seaweed in Ardwick.

Before I forget

' aithr o gara pogue mo hone ' ?

tiugim thu!!

Slan!

Written by Witzl (1585 comments posted) 13th October 2006

What I like in this poem is the two lines
'Maddy then cut a cross on the loaf
And that was the end of that.'

There is something completely charming and warming in that description.

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