Dear Store-brand Organic Tortillas,Our relationship always starts so fresh and lovely. I see you in the
and dream of quesadillas, breakfast burritos, or simply warming and
rolling you up with melted butter and honey inside.
I take you home, and lovingly tuck you between the vegetables and
outlandish quantities of milk in my icebox.
At first, everything is lovely—one of you becomes a sandwich,
another feeds the baby. But then days pass,
and I bake fresh bread, and you reliquated to somewhere behind the pickles. Then, perhaps as little as two weeks after that fateful first day, I
push aside all the impostors and see you again.
Thrilled, I start grating cheese and preparing for a delicious
Americanized Mexican lunch.
But when I open your thin plastic packaging, I am greeted by little
green invaders spotting all over between your tasty brown griddle
The package reclosed, the garbage opened, you settle in among the
apple cores and organic local corn husks,
and I wonder what I will do with all this cheese… I can not buy you any more. The heartbreak is too much. Goodbye,
Store-brand Organic Tortillas.