Tag: cooking
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My Jesus Hour in a Taco Bell
I feel at home at Taco Bell, as the cuisine echoes the worst of my mom’s cooking: cheese that tastes like beans, beans that taste like rice, rice that tastes like flour.It’s where I go when I am missing someone, usually near their Jesus’ hour, between the last sip of a lunch hour Pepsi and…
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This stove I love so much.
My wife’s kitchen is her solar systemwhere she never burns out.The heat of her stove has been sizzling for more than fifty-five years.When she cooks, she’s at her most beautiful.I find nourishment orbiting her star.
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Strawberries
Abuela bought them, the strawberries, plump , sweet, spotted, ripe for tasting from the roadside market- the one with the burlap heaven flapping in the humid air, on a day that smelled of smoke and incense. I wanted to eat them, but she slapped my hands away. The strawberries hadn’t traveled far- torn up from…
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Cooking in the Kitchen with the Dog
My wife doesn’t allow me to watch her when she cooks. The dog is her silent admirer, sitting patiently for crumbs. So much of it is filled with the aroma of her mother, Geri’s cooking, the recipes etched in memory’s stone, rituals not shared with a family of men. The scent of garlic…