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mamma sally

puttanesca tickles my nose
pulls me through 
these streets, eyes closed
Mamma Sally, she knows
how to fill my bowl

daughter of the old country
pulled up her roots
for the better life, 
the big city
Mamma Sally, she knows
how far the red brick goes

raising up tomatoes to the sky

from her window box piazza
seven stories high
Mamma Sally, she knows
how her garden grows

olive oil, garlic, basil in harmony
hymns of joy
the blessed holy trinity
Mamma Sally, she knows
how to save my soul

Rene ~ February 2011

Submitted for Magpie Tales #51 ~ Come join, write and enjoy!


  1. Love this poem, Mamma Sally indeed!

  2. ah rene, you had me with the first word
    don't forget the olives! mmmmmm

  3. yes ladies, there will be olives, gotta get the sofrito started first :)

  4. ptenesca always makes me think of series of unfortunate events....

  5. too, Brian
    those resourceful Baudelaires
    Fie on you, Uncle Olaf

  6. The biblical trio...of the garden. Nice reference for it - helps to paint an even stronger picture of this lovely Mamma Sally. Interesting one to pull from the pic...but it all comes together nicely. Thanks for sharing with One Shot!

  7. Robust and simple, like the sauce named. Food for the senses.

  8. Have to love that biblical trio... but I too would like some olives.

    Nicely done!

  9. Nicely done! Really enjoyed it.

  10. This makes me think of all the Mamma Sally’s in the world, as they are the glue that binds our families. Well constructed, clean and simply...Well Done! Cheers, David

  11. Can easily picture Momma Sally through your words. Old country woman making a family life in the city. Well written, Rene. Very nice, telling details in your poem.

  12. Mine too, I think! I love Italian food.

  13. I needed to Google 'puttanesca' and will skirt around the literal meaning, to congratulate you on a delightful illustration of the Mamma Sallies of the world, who keep alive what is so special about real Italian cooking.

  14. If Mama Sally can cook good Italian I am in...she can save my soul...Love Italian...bkm

  15. Ah lahks me some puttanesca...(sigh)...hungry, so hungry...

  16. oh you made me see mama sally...what a lovely write!

  17. your words are full of imagery,

    tomatoes, garlic, wow,
    well done.

  18. Ah, comforts. So sweet and respectful.




    I had a Mama Sally experience well sort of the other day at the olive bar. I posted my link just in case you want to check out my place for the Mama Sally ingredients. The only thing they don't sell is a Mama Sally. Wonderful poem. I am hungry now.


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