It was not so long ago
When taking tacos for lunch
To school, wasn`t cool
It was humiliating, embarrassing
And even dog-gone degrading
For a mere handful of kids
To decide school lunch standards,
That peanut butter and jelly
Should be the food to fill your hungry belly
And being snickered at because of our folded taco
And its` bean-papas, tortilla filling
Was not at all, a good feeling
Mamas, felt that embarrassing feeling too
After all, Mamas know you know,
They know when their child is hurting
It`s like some sort of mystical maternal radar instinct
They imbed in us, during our trimesters and after our birthing
So to avoid that teasing lunch time trauma
When Pandora`s deeds were released
From Roy Rogers, Trigger`s and Barbie lunch boxes
Mamas said
We come home for lunch instead
No cold box lunch for us, mamas said
Mamas said…
You`ll come home for hot sopita
Just like your Dad… our mamas said
And so, it was, every day… right at high noon
When the school lunch bell rang
We, todo Mundo, practically flew
To our Mama`s cocina
Leaving behind us
Only those few
And us? Well, we us… sabrosisimo, slurped down!
Two steaming, full platos pupidos con sopa
Papas con pacadillo, on Monday
Fideo con pollo, Tuesday
Conchitas con carne, Wednesday
Arroz con pollo, Thursday
And always pescado frito, on Friday
We`re Catholic so we never eat meat on Friday
And ever and always
A tall stack of fresh
Just off the smoking Comal
Aromatic tortillas
Sometimes flour,
Sometimes corn,
And yes!
O my God!
Sometimes gorditas de manteca!
Ice tea, some days, sweet limonada other days and sometimes green, or yellow, red or purple cool-aide to drink
Other weekdays, depending on the season
We had
Calabacita con pollo or puerco,
Macaron con carne
And nopalitos, with you name it during the Lenten season.
During winter months
Still, we walked home for lunch at noon
The menu consisted soups… Caldo de pollo or Caldo de res
And of course, every Friday, quite often,
Caldo de pes
Mamas knew
That a meal, any meal
Was not complete
Unless served with beans,
Pinto beans!
Frijoles pintos!
Refritos, almost all the time
Charra, sometimes
En bola, other times
For years and years
12 years in fact
We never ate any lunch at school
For us
It wasn’t cool
You had to be some kind of stupid fool
To pass-up Mamas` lunch
And take your lunch to school
No, it was not that long ago
When the entire barrio
Went home for lunch instead
Because that’s what Mamas said.
Rudy h. Garcia 2000
