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Friday, July 12, 2013

How Mother's Love Fed Us

There she stood, I remember like it was yesterday;
my mother there in the hot kitchen just cooking away.
I see her with the utensils and ingredients neatly laid
showing how much she loved us in the meals she made.
The molcajete and pear pestle inside; with warm water
she'd pour I thought made the chilies and tomatoes hotter;
fresh pequins and serranos crushed by the ball in her hand
ground to a fine paste that made a sauce only dad could stand.
Every movement with precision and such tender care it
was like poetry in motion as the aromas filled the air.
Piquant spices like garlic, oregano, and comino in amounts
only she knew, never measuring the spices in the food she threw.

As a small child I was in awe how she did it so flawlessly
yet she not too involved that she couldn't watch us cautiously;
making sure our curiosity didn't invite an accident to happen.
On the hot stove there she placed the comal that in time radiated heat
anticipating for fresh homemade tortillas we couldn't wait to eat.
It was amazing how she had a sense of awareness and balance;
an unswerving determination to make what came to be perfection
simply oozed exquisite tastes and complex arrangement having
our undivided attention as we waited for our time with anticipation.

Unselfish countenance it was unspoken as she didn't think twice
it just was the way it was as my father ate first and we came after
him making sure we had our fill and only then would she sit still.
This went on for years until she taught us her skills but at times we
would refuse as teens not seeing the importance of her culinary wisdom
with what became our favorite meals thinking now if we had only listened.
Those fond memories of our mother and how she operated in the kitchen
with food so unforgettable that after all these years we still talk about it
Those days are gone, those aromatic smells and wonderful tastes have
all but disappeared; but despite the fact we no longer have her here
the memory of my mother and her food we’ll indelibly hold dear.



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