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27 April 2008

With salt or without. [More:]

I just saw a commercial for Jose Cuervo -- "The best margaritas are made with Jose Cuervo" -- and it triggered a memory of my brother and birth mother. They were living together at the time, my brother and his wife and daughter, and my mother, trying to save money with one rent instead of two, and I was visiting, and my brother had this blender and talked about how now and then he liked to make strawberry margaritas, and he and my mother both laughed. "They're good," she said.

It was such a quick flash of memory. I could see them in the kitchen. The look they gave each other. This pressed lipped, playfully disapproving look my mother had. Then I remembered they're both dead. My mother about ten years now and my brother just last year, at age 49. His wife said he came in, sat down, and just said he wasn't feeling well, and by the time the ambulance got him to the hospital, he was gone.

Such a strange sensation, that sudden drop in mood, like an elevator falling. Fucking Cuervo. The commercial showed this circle of margaritas, short glasses rimmed with salt. I also remember thinking it'd be better with Herradura.
Oh. I thought you were talking about the stew.
posted by jonmc 27 April | 18:23
Oh, jesus, isn't that feeling awful.

Once in a while, I think "Oh, that's a horrible joke --- E (my late partner) will love it!" Then my belly flips over as the memory hits me.

I'm so sorry, Pips. Fucking Cuervo indeed.
posted by Elsa 27 April | 18:33
Beautiful story. Sorry dear.
posted by ThePinkSuperhero 27 April | 18:55
I'm sorry, Pips. At least the memory is a sweet one.
posted by redvixen 27 April | 19:25
Thanks guys. I appreciate it. I propose shots all around.

As for the stew, I'm making this (more or less -- I only sort of jotted down the recipe when I saw it, and I hadn't looked it up until now... only one sweet potato? Oops. I put in four...). I saw it being made on, gulp, Martha Stewart. I don't know why, but Martha Stewart's show soothes me. Martha Stewart and Cops. I'm nothing if not a contradiction. Strangely, the recipe comes from a woman who owns a cafe in the Bull's Head Plaza in Stamford, CT, where Jon and I met working at the Border's some 13 years ago. We went to the Bull's Head Diner all the time.

My stew's got another hour in the oven (I always seem to get a late start when cooking). I stuck my pinky in the sauce for a taste; I may have added too much chipotle. I also seem to have doubled the spices.
posted by Pips 27 April | 19:34
I love Cops too, Pips. Did you ever see the episode of 'My Name Is Earl' when he was on Cops? It was almost too much like the real thing.
posted by essexjan 27 April | 19:39
Strangely, I always thought I might see my brother Joe, and maybe his wife, on Cops one day. Bit of hard livin', those two. But I do miss him. Guess I missed him when he was alive, too. He lived in North Carolina when he died, and I hadn't seen him in a few years.

When I was a kid, me and my friends used to hang on his arms and legs, making a game of trying to pull him to the ground. He wasn't very big, but he seemed it to me. He was nine years older and put up with a lot, with his bratty little sister. I always thought I'd see him again.
posted by Pips 27 April | 19:50
I remember Joe. He was a dead ringer for the actor Sam Elliot. He was a lot smaller than me, but I wouldn't have in my wildest dreams thought of messing with him, he radiated badass that much. Note, badass not bully, he was so tough he didn't need to do that stuff, in fact he was downright friendly when I met him. I do remember dragging him up three flights of stairs after one occasion and envying his ability to sleep soundly sitting up in my chair. I kinda miss the crazy ol' cat as well.
posted by jonmc 27 April | 19:56
(((pips))) Bittersweet. Those waves that come out of nowhere hit home, both good and bad. I'm sorry pips. *cheers*
posted by chewatadistance 27 April | 19:57
Pips, I can see your brother and mother in the kitchen. What a touching story.

My sister tells me whenever she feels that her parenting is lacking she watches Cops and feels much better about things. She jokingly has advised me to do the same thing.
posted by LoriFLA 27 April | 19:57
I find that a lot of spiciness tends to mellow with more cooking, so you may be fine with the stew.

I am currently fighting a losing quick-deletion battle with all the "Celebrate Mother's Day!" spam arriving in my inbox. Those sorts of careless reminders can really suck. It's like, "The rest of the world's OK! What's your problem?!" asked by a clueless drunk frat boy who doesn't care about your response. Sigh.
posted by occhiblu 27 April | 20:09
Thanks again, folks. Truly. I just had an urge to share this here. I never had a funeral for Joe, or my birth mother.

Yeah, Jack, I remember that night... he and his wife and little girl were staying overnight with us on a visit up north, not long after our mother died, and he took out a prescription bottle packed with about a hundred of some kind of capsules, looked at me and said, "This is why we had to leave Bridgeport. Too easy to get this shit here." Before passing out in the chair, he also chugged three or four big gulps from a fifth of whiskey we had like it was milk. That man had a tolerance.

I still have the drawing his daughter made for me with markers. Tall Carolina trees and a little girl in a pink and orange striped shirt, her arms thrown wide, floating a bit off the ground. Gee, she'd be a teenager now.
posted by Pips 27 April | 20:17
The stew came out delicious. Wickedly spicy (my nose is running), but delicious.
posted by Pips 27 April | 21:44
Where in Carolina, hon?
posted by bunnyfire 27 April | 22:51
It's Proust's cookie. The other night, laying in bed, I had a terrible ache as I remembered the pattern on the placemats I set hundreds of times on our family table growing up. The placemats are long gone, the house no longer in the family. I am grateful that my immediate family is all still with us, but life is so full of passing and change. How can it be managed? It's the hardest thing, I think, that we're called to do, the price of accepting lives ourselves. Or so I believe.

I'm sorry about the Cuervo, and wish you a peaceful evening here on out.
posted by Miko 27 April | 22:59
It's funny how some little thing can bring back someone lost. Cherry red muscle cars = my cousin John. Fishing lures in a department store = my dad. A hand laid stone walk = my son. Vines in a hospital or doctor's office = mom.

Thanks for the story.
posted by arse_hat 27 April | 23:28
Bittersweet, as chewie said. (((Pips)))

I also have an odd liking for Cops. I think it's a "there but for the Grace of God" kinda thing.
posted by deborah 28 April | 00:19
Thanks, pips... and everyone. I wrote something longer but I couldn't get the stupid words to say what I was thinking/feeling.
posted by taz 28 April | 00:28
Yeah, I know what you mean, arse_hat. The smell of cigars is my father. I even smelled them in the car with me not long after his funeral, and I was alone in the car (quirk of the temporal lobe, when under stress, apparently). He died the year after my birth mother.

Outside Fayatteville, I believe, bunnyfire.

That's funny, Miko... I just saw a package of madelleines at the grocery store this afternoon and thought, Proust! I've never seen madelleines offered that way before, in one of those clear plastic bowls supermarket bakeries use.

Again, appreciate the thoughts, all.

posted by Pips 28 April | 00:37
If by outside Fayetteville you mean NEAR Fayetteville, who knows, I might have run across him.
posted by bunnyfire 28 April | 08:20
I have similar memories about tequila, but, then again, I guess everyone has a tequila story. Mine also involves an alcoholic brother, but one who, thankfully, hasn't had a drink in over 10 years now. Tequila was his drink, and I drank with him a few, but only a few, times--he tended to hide his drinking, as many alcoholics do. I miss those times, hanging out on the porch, getting drunk with him, him telling me about all the wild things he'd done. Though I do prefer him as a non-drinker, and alive.
posted by mrmoonpie 28 April | 09:15
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