Wednesday, September 3, 2008

just like home

in the heat of childhood summers in california's scorching san joaquin valley, us kids didn't listen for the broken song of the ice cream truck; we kept our ears perked for the la rosa man. the mexican man pushed his little refrigerator cart down the street, bells dangling off the handles. it was chock-full of frozen goodness: fruit and sugar (lots of sugar) on a stick was yours for a dollar. watermelon and tamarind were my favorites. since I've moved away, it's one of the things I miss the most.

at lunch today at the peruvian cafe, I noticed a new case by the door. peering in the glass top, I immediately recognized the colorful bars. even with a different name (la princessa), I knew they were the same. a little piece of home.