So, I’m sitting there one day watching my (former) sweetheart putting an inordinate amount of cream into his coffee, (or should I say, he was “having a little coffee with his cream…”), and I was reminded of the first time I tasted coffee.
During my childhood my brother and I would often take the CTA bus in Chicago and go to my Grandma & Grandpa Gerali’s house after school. The meals we had there were like none I had ever tasted – yet so comforting and familiar. It took me YEARS to figure out what the secret ingredient was in Grandma’s spaghetti sauce! How I wish I would have asked her to teach me how to cook while she was still with us. She died when I was 15 – not an age when I was really thinking too much about recipes…..
As grandparents are sometimes known to do, they allowed us a “treat” during our visits that our parents never allowed us to have at home. One of these treats was a “cup” of coffee, with lots of milk. It was as familiar a “treat” as the sip of wine Grandpa used to let us have from his basement wine cellar. (And when I say “wine cellar,” I literally mean “wine cellar.” Grandpa used to MAKE his own wine in the basement in a corner room behind a locked door, located behind the tabletop shuffleboard game.)
So what, you say, does coffee and wine have to do with Tamarindo? And what is Tamarindo, anyway?
According to Wikipedia, Tamarindo is “an agua fresca drink typically served in South American countries and Mexico. It is made from tamarind (a legume: tamarindus indica) after it has been boiled in water, has had its seeds removed, and has been liquefied and combined with sugar. It is typically sold at taquerías in Mexico, and Central and South American restaurants. “
The way I remember it, it used to sound like Grandpa called it, “thumbarindo,” almost like Thumbalina, the doll I used to have – LOL! But somehow I got the name right when I Googled it and found it right away. Anyway, that’s neither here nor there, I suppose, other than to extoll the praises of the Internet when it’s used in a positive way.
So, back to Grandpa’s. What was it about Tamarindo that was so good? As I recall, it didn’t have much of a taste – sort of like drinking a flat Coke. Was it special because none of my friends had ever heard of it, and so I felt special that I knew what Tamarindo was and they didn’t? Was it because you couldn’t buy it in a store, thereby making it more special because it wasn’t readily available? The only way we could get Tamarindo was when the peddler man walked up and down the alley at Grandpa’s house, pushing his cart full of fruits, vegetables, and…..Tamarindo!!! The peddler man didn’t peddle his wares every day, or even every week. From what I recall it was once or twice a month.
Sometimes we’d go to Grandma and Grandpa’s and ask to have Tamarindo with our meal, only to be told, “We don’t have any more. The peddler man isn’t coming until next week, but we’ll save some for you for the next time you come.” Such disappointment! And such anticipation for the next visit to Grandma and Grandpa’s house! Or was it because we thought we were getting away with something that we thought our parents didn’t want us to have?
Ultimately, looking back now, I think the real reason Tamarindo was so special was for one reason, and one reason only. Relationships. The relationship-building that came from spending time with my grandparents. The relationship that developed because my grandparents made us feel special – that we were special enough to get a treat each time we visited. And that was no small feat considering that Grandma and Grandpa had 11 grandchildren at that time. MAYBE my brother and I didn’t get our treat every time we visited because Grandma and Grandpa were saving it for one of our cousins – it wasn’t our turn yet. They had to share it with us equally so we would ALL feel special.
And that was one of the wonderful things about growing up in my family. All the cousins, all the birthday parties, New Year’s Day dinner at local restaurants (“Table for 50!!” What do you expect with an Italian family?), playing Hide-and-Seek in Grandpa’s basement while the “grown-ups” played dirty BINGO. (Cousins, you know what I’m talking about!)
So people, cherish the time you have with your loved ones and friends. Make every moment count. Make memories. Leave a legacy for your children and grandchildren.
And speaking of using the Internet in a positive way – I initially started using social media as a way to stay connected with family and friends after I moved across the country from them. It’s not about the quantity of friends you have, but about the quality. I can keep up with relatives who I don’t see often due to geography, but whose lives I love keeping up with because of a crazy social media website that allows us to do so. Some of us might share a former workplace, some of us share our faith, some of you are former classmates.
When I read your stories, some of you make me laugh with your wit, make me cry with your trials, and allow me to share in your triumphs or watch your kids grow up. And some of you might be reading this for the first time and can relate to a story in your childhood that connects you in a powerful way. I might have more than one type of connection with each of you, or you are a new friend through this blog, but I’m grateful for them all. So raise your glasses! (Any substitute for Tamarindo will do…)
Here’s to love, family, friendships, and memories. Thank you, Angelo. Thank you, Amelia. And thank you…..Tamarindo!
