Ages ago, my grandfather (mom’s dad) sent mom a letter in the mail. He’d type them up on this old typewriter. One of those typewriters with character. His handwriting was a little shaky, so the time it took to hunt and peck and correct mistakes was still worth it. In this letter was a newspaper clipping of a recipe for “corn mazatlan” noting that he thought it looked like it would taste good. We had the dish almost every time he came over after that.
After several of meals with a side dish that didn’t always exactly “go” with the rest of the meal (something unlike my mom’s style of entertaining), I asked why she made it since it seemed as if he had only made a suggestion that it might be good and hadn’t specifically requested it. She told me that the effort he had put into that quiet suggestion was his way of strongly requesting it and he had repeatedly eaten enough to demonstrate that he really enjoyed it. It was her way of showing a bit of love through food. Continue reading “Corn Mazatlan”
