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# Caesar
- URL: https://dianaludwick.com/caesar/
- Published: 2026-06-30T12:03:56.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-24T20:07:18.000Z
- Description: “Caesar,” an homage to family and food on a summer's eve, written Tuesday, June 30, poem 181 in a series of 365 poems written by Diana Ludwick in 2026. Photo, "Caesar Feast," by Diana Ludwick (c) 2026.
- Author: Diana Ludwick
- Tags: 2026 Poetry Challenge, Generational, Homage, Lineage, Nostalgia, Of Place, Poems, Reminiscing, Ancestors, Caesar, cheese, Cheshire Cat, Croutons, Disco Divinity, Family, Feast, Generations, Gratefully, Humidity, June, Parma, Parmigiano Reggiano, Renaissance, Rhode Island, Romaine, Sardines, Summer, Summer Nights, #Migrated-1792872215677, #wp, #wp-post, #Import 2026-10-24 20:03

Some of my   
most magical memories  
were forged   
over wide bowls of romaine  
bathed in unctuous   
lemony peppery dressing.  
  
The kind of meal that   
takes you by surprise  
as the ground anchovies mingle   
with freshly grated   
Parmigiano Reggiano D.O.P.  
cutting through the heat dome   
grating through   
the ninety six percent humidity.  
  
As the umami waves   
unfurl in all directions  
the seemingly sturdy,   
crisp homemade baguette   
trapezoidal croutons   
yield at the bite to reveal rivulets   
of garlic imbued butter   
and warm olive oil,  
providing the perfect surfing foil  
of crunch and bite   
and new fats to the party.  
  
Where flakes of   
sun-dried ocean salt   
nestle in the folds   
of an undulating sea of greens  
and cracked orbs of black pepper   
fall down like dry rain   
from an ancestral   
silver pepper mill  
that carries the weight   
and taste of generations.  
  
Where the candle light flickers  
and the beetles fly in   
and out of the periphery  
and laughter tumbles   
out into the summer sky,   
joining soaring swooping bats   
out on their sonic prowl.  
  
And the picnic table benches   
yield gently  
like grand tectonic plates  
softly, almost imperfectly bending  
while the metal frame jiggles  
with the merry weight   
of three related families   
converging for   
an annual delight   
of place and country.  
  
And the fork brings a heft   
and a grounding to the flavors   
washing and breaking   
across the shores  
of my awaiting tongue.  
  
When the soft sounds   
of crumpled lettuce speared   
and twirled and triumphed   
transitions into the   
suddenly sober scraping   
of metal against porcelain;   
rock bottom net all too soon.  
  
And then the table falls silent   
for just a moment —   
  
Long enough for each diner  
to be struck with   
a quiet aha moment  
Which bubbles out   
of the most eager mouth:  
“I’m wanting more.  
Seconds, anyone?”  
  
And then a raft of easy giggles   
trickles from fat-ringed lips  
as we all greedily anticipate   
more soft piles   
of saturated leaves   
and creamy scales   
of the king’s cheese   
from Parma.  
  
And some kind member  
pulls bare legs up   
and out of the bench  
swiveling and pushing   
off into the dark.  
Returning victorious,  
Cheshire Cat grin glows  
over an epic bowl of glory.  
  
And gratefully,   
we resume our romaine Renaissance  
— measuring art   
and painting science.  
Curving teeth   
around perfect morsels   
of the season’s finest   
paired with a refreshed bounty   
of juicy lengths   
of charcoal flamed   
Rhode Island poultry breasts.  
Which, while delicious,   
are almost beside the point.  
  
The stars blink in disco divinity  
punctuating   
the growing cloak of velvety dark  
And as warm eyes   
with crinkles in the corners   
meet mine across the table,   
and the gentle generous   
curious eager questions   
weave in and out   
and fly over us like   
streams of Caesar   
from the end of a whisk flung   
by a practiced wrist.  
  
The company I keep  
reminds me why   
the day’s long drive was worth it.  
  
And why this   
deceptively simple meal  
Is the vessel for life itself.