The first time I remember tasting homemade corn tortillas I was about four. My Tia Delphina was the culinary expert in this and she would make the best ones. They were thick…thick enough to slice. They were both sweet and slightly nutty flavor. And a perfect texture. In case you didn’t know, Tia is Aunt in Spanish. She and my Tio Ladisloe lived next door to my grandparents in Del Rio, Texas. My grandfather, my Buello, was her younger brother. There was a connecting gate in the backyard to their properties and a little wooden bridge that we would walk on to get to her house. Beside that bridge was one of the largest pomegranate trees I’ve ever seen. My Tio, also called Larry, was a carpenter. All around their home were little things he had made with his own hands in his shop. He built shelves for my Tia’s plants. He built her a room for her African Violets and their small breakfast table. Sunday mornings after church I would hurry over there to sit on his lap as he read...
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