Read my Medium Raw challenge essay: Finding the Root

Read my Medium Raw challenge essay: Finding the Root.

French’s Mustard Love Story

A super short & silly piece I wrote for a French’s Mustard contest. I didn’t win the prize, think it needs a better ending, but had fun writing it.

French’s Mustard Love Story

French’s and Le Belle French Fry – a sorted tale with a tasty ending

Setting: Salon de Pommes Frites (A Hair Salon for French Fries) located on the French Riviera

Cast of Characters:

Le Belle French Fry (she’s French, long and lean, with a killer tan)

French’s Mustard (he’s strong and silent, a butter-scotch American stallion)

Le Ketchup Fou (Crazy Ketchup – Le Belle French Fry’s insanely jealous boyfriend)

Le Grand Aioli (the Big Mayonnaise – wants Belle for himself – reputed Mafia connections)

FiFi Frite – Belle’s hairdresser

“FiFi, my life is a mishmash”, says Belle.

“Cherie, whatever is wrong?” purrs FiFi, “your life seems perfect”.

Belle explodes, “Men, FiFi, Men! Le Ketchup fou is smothering me, I feel drenched all the time. Le Grand Aioli is pressuring me, what can I do?”

Just then, the door blows open, a shadow looms, and its owner strides in – he’s big, golden and American – French’s Mustard. “Ladies, I’m looking for Café Amour, do either of ya’ll know the way?”

Shoving Fifi aside, Belle leaps up, it’s love at first sight “Monsieur, you’re so big and golden, I’ll show you the way!”

“Much obliged ma’am”, says French’s with a grin. Off they go – happily ever after.

A Southern Vintage

Back and forth, to and fro, legs and torso working together on Newton’s First Law of Motion – “A body in motion tends to stay in motion”. Even if that motion provides barely enough impetus to stir up a tiny breeze to wash over you in that old pine board porch-swing.

The heat is alive and writhing like a black snake. It envelops everything, forcing all God’s creatures into some kind of languid, trancelike state. I daresay somewhere between living and just this side of braised half-dead (braised as ya’ll know is the application of moist heat, whereas roasted is dry – please see the state of Texas for further details on roasted).

In your hand is a big mason jar, of the same ilk as the ones used for say, “Aunt Kitty’s Green Tomato Pickles”, or “Mamaw’s Spicy Hot Chow Chow”. The jar is ice cold, dripping with beads of sweat and filled to the brim with an amber-colored liquid. Keeping an eye on the prize, you bring the jar to your mouth in one smooth motion. Lips part, ice cubes clink against the teeth. An onslaught of tannins confronts your tongue while your mouth gently puckers, and then AAHHH……… a grainy slush of sugar washes over everything, calming, soothing, makin’ it all good. You swallow, and then smile because you’ve just experienced the South’s most beloved table wine – SWEET TEA.

~ Joely Seal-Rogers