Blog by Sumana Harihareswara, Changeset founder
I Love My Mom
Hi, reader. I wrote this in 2005 and it's now more than five years old. So it may be very out of date; the world, and I, have changed a lot since I wrote it! I'm keeping this up for historical archive purposes, but the me of today may 100% disagree with what I said then. I rarely edit posts after publishing them, but if I do, I usually leave a note in italics to mark the edit and the reason. If this post is particularly offensive or breaches someone's privacy, please contact me.
Today's MC Masala column actually mentions the word "masala" (mix of spices) because it's about my mom's cooking and American food.
The smell of Taco Bell reminds me of going to the coin laundry with my mother. She'd give my sister and me a few dollars and we'd run to the strip mall's Taco Bell, bursting with the desire to choose our own meals. The perfectly flavorless tortillas, the homogenized refried beans, the impossibly unmeltable "cheddar" cheese -- I would taste those and think of joy.
Also includes the line "We used to order pizza from its eponymous Hut."
