|(Photo via Dallas News)|
As I cooked, the smell of the soup tantalized my nostrils, taking me back to my childhood.
I can clearly remember my mom (YaYa) making caldo de pollo in our modest home on the east side of Houston. I can remember our small kitchen getting warm because of the simmering pot of caldo my mom was cooking. Then, YaYa would always open the kitchen window and let the cool November air in, letting the delicious smell of the soup escape through the screen.
Today when I was cooking, I didn't open any windows. Instead, I inhaled the fragrance of the soup deeply, never wanting it to dissipate, hoping it would penetrate the walls of my apartment and always remain.