Thinking of Grandma Jingu

 

 At breakfast the other day I was telling my friend that I have been writing down stories about my family for the last several years and used the covid lock down to be more dedicated to this writing effort. Yesterdays post about the Japanese Mariachi band and how my grandma would sing a Mexican song while she cooked took me down a rabbit hole of memories about my grandma. For family parties she would sit in the kitchen and make rolls and rolls of sushi and then wrap the finished rolls in wax paper to keep them fresh until she’d slice them to serve. While she’d make the sushi I would sit at the table where she’d pour a bag of dried pinto beans on the table. My job was to sort out the tiny rocks that might be found amongst the beans. After sorting, the beans were soaked, cooked and made into a pot of chili. Our family parties always included a mix of Japanese food with enchiladas, chili and rice. This was, I’m sure because of our Texas connection. Even now when the cousins gather we say “ooh boy” if we have our sushi platter next to our Mexican enchiladas, chili and rice. It’s just our thing.