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A Tasty Tradition
I’m sitting on the beach playing with my Max Steel toy. I’m seven-years-old so I have the entire collection of Max Steel. My mom and grandma laugh and listen to music. I watch the sunset go down. I’m sitting on a beach chair when I hear my mom.
“Sergio, ven a comer.”
I go to her and then she reaches down and takes out a really big dish. Steamy smoke comes out of it.
“Esto va a estar bueno.”
Mom nodding at me, she’s agreeing with me or saying “Yes Sergio, this is gonna be good”
My grandma sits beside me and my mom and I hold each other's hands. We start praying. “Dios muchas gracias por la comida.”
My mom opens the dish and my eyes open wide. I can already taste the food in my mouth. My mom takes out the first taco. But I realize it wasn’t a normal taco. I see it’s thicker and it has a double tortilla. I ask my mom, “Mama, que es eso?”
She gives me this look, saying shut up and eat it, which I do.
I grab the taco and put it in my mouth. The meat is different, the taste and the texture of the taco are different. I ask again, “Mama, que es eso?”
She gives me a sweet look now and I’m standing, waiting for her response when she finally says, “Es un taco de Pescado, Sergio.”
When we get home, I talk to my mom about the delicious dish she prepared and she tells me we are making fish tacos a tradition for every time we go to the beach. And then, the very next Sunday, I’m eating fish tacos once again.
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This about the fish taco tradition I grew up with.