Recipes & Reflections on Latino Food & Culture
With the arrival of his firstborn daughter, a young father planted a nogal seedling. The land was barren and stony but the nogal thrived. Two more daughters were born and, over time, the three sisters grew to play in the shade of the tree's broad branches, climbing, jumping, and staining their clothes with its caramel-colored sap. The girls gathered the tree's savory pecans, cracking them open and eating them as they played. … [Read more...]
I have lived seven Novembers without him and somehow survived them in different ways. We knew that November 2005 could be the last with our son, Alex. He was about to deploy to a raging battleground in Iraq for the second time. Our hearts were heavy and so he asked that we celebrate Thanksgiving twice, once on the Thursday and again on Friday. So we did. We went around the table articulating our thanks for special things in our lives. When it came to Alex, he looked at us and thanked us for having been his parents and loving him as we did. Then he left, and we would never again be blessed with seeing this child, this man, whom we loved so much. We would never see him grow old, become a father, raise children and teach us things only our children can teach us. Our lives would change dramatically. … [Read more...]
Recently, I took the The Saint to a certain establishment (in a DC suburb we'll call B-Town) that sells as its main menu item mussels. It was The Saint’s birthday and a group of us was sitting at an outside table when, suddenly, I caught sight of them: two young men--one with a guitar and the other with a violin--wearing charro shirts, bright red moños (or cravats) and eager looks on their faces. … [Read more...]
My grandmother died last month. These past few weeks, I’ve spent a good deal of time searching my memories of her and trying to recall details about the way she was and how things were. The way she wiped the sweat from her upper lip before planting a kiss on my cheek and the vibrato in her voice when she busted out with an old Mexican ranchera. How she flirted and teased people, which made them feel special. Her expert negotiating at the market or the mechanic's. The feel of her touch. The timbre of her laugh. … [Read more...]
I have an uncle who’s more like a big brother. He’s the guy who took me on terrifying rollercoaster rides when I was a kid; teased me mercilessly but also defended me against merciless teasing; and drove crazily along mountainside roads in Spain while I white-knuckled it in the back seat. … [Read more...]
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