Cranberries

26 01 2008

We never bought fancy foods; my father, a product of the Depression, scanned the flyers for coupons; he’d haul home tins of tomatoes, brandless sodas, and cans of frozen store-brand orange juice. The cheaper the better. My mother made culinary magic nonetheless. A November splurge: fresh cranberries. It was my job to send them and a plump orange through the hand-crank grinder, popping and splattering. Intense and bitter until I had stirred in a cup of sugar, the fruit was left to macerate a few days before being spooned into the etched glass bowl, saved for this one day, Thanksgiving.

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2 responses

27 01 2008
onenutcake

I continue to be impressed that you can paint the picture of your family and life in 100 words in such a satisfying manner. This is more than a description about just the berries, but gives insight into your life. You are frugal with the words and descriptions but just like your mom, make literary magic nonetheless.

28 01 2008
bgexperiments

Thanks, Ashleigh, for the feedback. I’m glad that you feel as though a picture of my family and life is emerging through these short posts–it’s both challenging and great fun, yes?

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