Iron - Plancha
Me quedĂ© sin dinero en el juego de Monopoly; jugamos por horas y perdĂ. Mi ficha, la plancha, me recordĂł a mi niñez, a mis abuelitas y la simplicidad de la vida en los 80s.
Por ser la nieta mayor, estaba a cargo de muchos quehaceres: lavar platos a mano, colgar la ropa lavada en el tendedero, ayudar a hacer tortillas en la lumbre, salir a hacer mandados y mucho más. El mandado preferido para mi era ir a la panaderĂa por las mañanas a comprar pan dulce para toda la familia. El aroma a pan caliente llegaba a mi nariz tan pronto y doblaba la esquina. Al regresar con la canasta llena de conchas, todo lo que recuerdo son manos agarrando su pieza de pan. Pronto, la canasta vacĂa solo tenĂa la servilleta llena de migajas. De adulta, me encanta ir a la panaderĂa, pero jamás me causará la misma emociĂłn que sentĂ cuando tenĂa 12.
En la casa de mi abuelita paterna, yo ayudaba a planchar. Cuando no habĂa luz, se planchaba a luz de vela con la plancha de hierro. Se ponĂan las cenizas calientes adentro y se agarraba con una toalla para no quemarse la palma de la mano. Se tenĂa que usar una tela hĂşmeda sobre la ropa que se planchaba para protegerla de una quemada. En la casa de mi abuelita materna, habĂa una como la de Monopoly, de base plana, que se ponĂa sobre la estufa para calentarla y despuĂ©s planchar. La tela hĂşmeda y la toalla para agarrar la plancha eran igualmente necesarias.
Todos esos instrumentos básicos sin complicación como el molcajete, el metate, la olla del café, la jarra del té, la plancha, la tortilladora, el comal para las tortillas y más, todo eso me trae maravillosos recuerdos de lo simple que era la vida. Todos los aromas y los sonidos de las cocinas de mis abuelitas respectivamente me recuerdan a la felicidad.
Concha
This Mexican sweet bread’s name comes from its similarity to a shell conch. The word comes from the greek Kónkhee.
I went bankrupt in Monopoly; we played for many hours and I lost. My token, the iron, reminded me of my childhood, my grandmothers, and the simplicity of life in the 80s.
As the oldest grandchild, I was in charge of many chores: washing dishes by hand, hanging clothes on the clothesline, assisting when tortillas were made in the fire pit, running errands, and much more. My favorite errand was going to the bakery to pick up sweet bread for the whole family. The smell of hot bread would reach my nose as soon as I turned the corner. I would return with a basket full of sweet bread. All I remember are hands grabbing their piece of bread, soon enough, the empty basket’s napkin was full of crumbs. As an adult, I still love going to the bakery, but it will never be the same thrill I felt like when I was 12.
In my paternal grandmother’s house, I helped with the ironing. She had the heavy metal iron, I’d use it when the electricity was out. I ironed with candlelight. This is the iron where you place hot coals inside it and hold it with a mitten or a towel to avoid burning your palm. You also had to place a damp cloth on the ironed garment to protect it from burning. My maternal grandmother had the monopoly iron, the one with a thin base, which you placed on the stove to get it hot and then proceed with the ironing. The protective damp cloth and the stove mitten to hold it was still part of the ironing kit.
All those basic and uncomplicated appliances, such as the molcajete, metate, coffee pot, tea pot, iron, tortilla maker, and the comal for the tortillas are such wonderful memories of how simple life was. All the smells and sounds from my grandmothers’ respective kitchens remind me of happy times.
MY MEMORIES - MIS RECUERDOS
