Porridge, cooked in a pot on the stove, in the cosy warmth of Nana’s kitchen on a cold winter morning. A good, hearty, thick bubbling porridge, poured and setting in the dish. Slowly pour a layer of milk over the top. Watch it spread to the sides of the bowl and settle in a layer above the porridge. Next sprinkle the brown sugar and watch the milk creep up to darken it a rich gold-brown, before it crumbles and dissolves into the white liquid layer. Dip the spoon and scoop the first semicircle bite from the edge of the plate. Savour the warm, squidgy texture and swallow. Turn the bowl and scoop another, adjacent to the first. Continue turning the bowl. Dipping, scooping and swallowing, all the way around, until you arrive at the place where you started. Now it’s time to mix it all together, swirling until it becomes a creamy gloop. Spoon and swallow at random now. Drag the spoon across the bottom of the plate, scrape…scrape, down those last rivulets still clinging to the porcelain. Suck the spoon clean. Place the empty bowl and spoon in the sink. Fill with cold water. Breakfast is done. Yum!
By Vicki Arnott
hi Mrs arnott it is Maddox and Stephen we really like your piece of writing it gave me a picture of pouring the milk , pouring the sugar and taking a spoon full of porridge.
it was AWESOME!!!!!! 🙂
I don’t usually love porridge but this story made me want to eat a big bowl of porridge right now.
I don’t really eat porridge but your story makes it sound yum.