Personal Narrative: Sweet Old Mole

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Sweet old Mole Have you ever thought of that recipe that just keeps getting passed down and it just keeps getting better as years go by. As a latina food is probably one of the most important and richest part of my culture. If you don’t eat abuelita (grandma) will hear the growling of your stomach from blocks away and make you eat plates of her cooked food. Growing up in a Mexican culture my mother would cook everyday but eating all together as a family meant everything the room would never be silent and crowded. My aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins and my family would all get together for our plate of mole to start the night good. Mole is a Mexican plate it's a sauce that will keep your heart warm with its sweetness. The sauce has numbers …show more content…

Once I see sight of it I run to my mom who is strolling the mole and I climb the stool and as I stand there sniffing the sweet smell mole gives off. “Betsabe get off your going to burnt” My mother yells at me for being too close to the pot “No mom can I try” I say with excitement in hope that she will let me. “You will one day mija” not understanding what she meant by that. Now that I’am older I have been helping prepare the mole for a celebration and I understand the phrase “one day you will mija” and that day came sooner than I …show more content…

My grandma would be the first one outside next to the pot adding up other spices, as I saw her from my window knowing today was going to be a very busy but rewarding day. While looking at my grandmother who is very old and unhealthy spinning the mole and smiling at everyone knowing this was just for her was by far the most beautiful things I could remember about my abuelita. As all of my uncles help set up the tables and the ring for the bulls because that was one of my abuelita's favorite things to watch, people riding bulls and since we have pretty big land over in Mexico we could fit in a whole big party just for her. As everything was getting set up the badna (Mexican musicians) would start arriving and playing the traditional music from Hidalgo which is the state in Mexico where my family is from. Once we are all at the table and family and friends start arriving and the bulls are behind us the smell of the sizzling of mole starts getting close to my nose and I jump of

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