I Recommend Quesillo

Think about a time when the taste of a food reminded you of a whole experience. The nostalgic memory of a time that long ago when life was stress-free. While I cannot bring you back to your own memory, I will take you to one of mine. But before we go on a trip in memory lane, we need food to open the doors.

Let us go to the kitchen and open the fridge. Take notes on the foil container that is all busted up from when we ripped it open using our primal instincts to just get a taste. As we open the lid, we see 3/5 of a Quesillo with sugary slices of pineapple and cherries in the middle. We could be civil people and cut it for a plate, but there is nothing nostalgic about that. So, grab a spoon and get the biggest piece you can. Get ready, because as the smell enters your nostrils, into your brain where it gets transferred by Serotonin into endorphins the taste is 100 times better. As you slam your teeth into it slows down completely engulfing your brain into nirvana, we finally get taken back to 2016 when we first tried it.

I would be sitting right there, at the end of the dining table when people were yelling at old men on the TV.I would ignore all the banter about politics and just focus on how I am going to obtain the latest enchantment book in Minecraft, mending all my weapons and armor. After the yelling, came my aunt with a brand-new recipe, Quesillo (Venezuelan flan). My family just called it Flan, though I remember not hating but not liking Flan, when she opened the lid I fell i love. The bubbly texture, the spongey feel, the amount of sugar coating on the pineapple splice, and of course how could forget the cherry literally on top. It was a match made in heaven. Nothing in the world mattered in the 5 seconds the small piece of it lasted, not the reports of nuclear testing, not the conflicting ideals of exiting a union, not a world-famous play first starting, nothing. And what’s better than first trying something? Having it the next day all to yourself. It would take me approximately 12 minutes and 45 seconds to finish half of the entire thing, while I did get into trouble you better believe it was worth it.

As we crumble up the lid and throw up the empty container the doors of memory appear again as if it was waiting for our return. We walk back to the door into our empty apartment with an amazing memory with us for the rest of the day, totally not lined with a bunch of political agendas that may or may not still be a thing today.