at christmas eve we eat caviar on cucumbers and oysters on ice, meatballs on gravy and salmon on cream. at christmas eve our faces are cast red and purple.

frans-floris-the-fall-of-man-1560(frans floris, the fall of man, the best thing that ever happened)

my mother’s in spain, my father’s in france, sam is in siberia.
screen-shot-2016-12-08-at-3-57-26-pm

aba004a

16782278These posters narrated my childhood: the Mini Milks for walks with abuelita, the Frigo Pie when I was ready to risk pink melt trickling down my arm, the Calippos when I felt like sucking cardboard, the cones with hazelnuts to feel grown-up and the Super Choc when I was old enough to bite down on ice-burned chocolate without it hurting my teeth. I never touched the Fresh Limón flavor of the cones (not featured); that was my cousin’s choice, and not only did I avoid competing with her at all costs (she had a powerful smack) but I felt apprehensive about the mix of sour lemon with sweet Vanilla. Wouldn’t there be some curdling involved? Wasn’t that cheese?
In Galicia we eat cheese the shape of breasts.

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