Obtained on Flikr by "pmpistol89"Pistachios, not many people know they are actually grown on trees and begin as little fruits. I didn’t …until now. It’s interesting to think what foods are foreign and which are domestic, even in the scale within our own lives. Originally these fruits trees were cultivated in the Mediterranean and Middle East, and it wasn’t until a mere thirty years ago that they started production in the United States. To some, this food might be foreign, but in my household they were always a common good.
Growing up, my mom always found the most ridiculous things to keep us kids occupied, breaking open the shells to obtain the prized pistachio nut was one them. I remember countless days that I would just sit with my mom eating pistachios and even today when I see those little tan things inside the comfort of the shell, I can’t help but pick up a bag, even if they just sit in my kitchen. Childhood memories, a time I often wish I could resort to. But now life is consumed by “real” occupation, not the one that consists of breaking open shells for a prize. And every time I see an association with pistachios, I already feel emotionally invested into the product, a feeling that draws me toward.
The funny thing is, even now, with this blog and title I still resort back to the correlation between food and memory. But, the memory lives on and continues because food is all around and so are pistachios. And to my amazement every time I fly back home and step into my mom’s house… she always has those pistachios ready.
Growing up, my mom always found the most ridiculous things to keep us kids occupied, breaking open the shells to obtain the prized pistachio nut was one them. I remember countless days that I would just sit with my mom eating pistachios and even today when I see those little tan things inside the comfort of the shell, I can’t help but pick up a bag, even if they just sit in my kitchen. Childhood memories, a time I often wish I could resort to. But now life is consumed by “real” occupation, not the one that consists of breaking open shells for a prize. And every time I see an association with pistachios, I already feel emotionally invested into the product, a feeling that draws me toward.
The funny thing is, even now, with this blog and title I still resort back to the correlation between food and memory. But, the memory lives on and continues because food is all around and so are pistachios. And to my amazement every time I fly back home and step into my mom’s house… she always has those pistachios ready.
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