The other day I ate a blue raspberry Jolly Rancher for the first time. No big deal, right? First thought: this tastes just like blue Otter Pops! Which made me think of my childhood, summertime in Phoenix, a gigantic box of Otter Pops in the freezer, my sister and I eating one after another. It was one of the few ways to forget the heat of Arizona summers, at least momentarily.
The longer the candy stayed in my mouth, the more I started to recognize it's almost true-to-life raspberry flavor. Which lead me to thought #2: my grandmother's raspberry preserves. Yum! My dad's parents always had a raspberry patch growing in their backyard, along with a tiny strawberry patch, a few potatoes (this was in Idaho), and some tomato plants my grandfather worked on diligently. Every year around the holidays Grandma Peggy would send jars upon jars of raspberry preserves. And we ate it on everything. Pancakes with syrup and preserves, on toast, on ice cream. She made pickles too, but of course kids love the sweet stuff. Many years for Christmas we'd drive up to Idaho to spend the holidays with them. This allowed two Arizona kids to experience the whole white Christmas thing, and it was always magical. We'd make 'snow cream' with fresh snow, sugar, milk, and of course, raspberry preserves. My mouth waters now, just thinking of it!
Yesterday I bought some raspberry lip balm at the Body Shop. I put some on, and whole memory of Peggy just came back. I think I keep searching for this smell because it's the strongest association I have with my grandma. I've been trying to think of a way to properly memorialize her in a tattoo. I do believe I've found it.
The longer the candy stayed in my mouth, the more I started to recognize it's almost true-to-life raspberry flavor. Which lead me to thought #2: my grandmother's raspberry preserves. Yum! My dad's parents always had a raspberry patch growing in their backyard, along with a tiny strawberry patch, a few potatoes (this was in Idaho), and some tomato plants my grandfather worked on diligently. Every year around the holidays Grandma Peggy would send jars upon jars of raspberry preserves. And we ate it on everything. Pancakes with syrup and preserves, on toast, on ice cream. She made pickles too, but of course kids love the sweet stuff. Many years for Christmas we'd drive up to Idaho to spend the holidays with them. This allowed two Arizona kids to experience the whole white Christmas thing, and it was always magical. We'd make 'snow cream' with fresh snow, sugar, milk, and of course, raspberry preserves. My mouth waters now, just thinking of it!
Yesterday I bought some raspberry lip balm at the Body Shop. I put some on, and whole memory of Peggy just came back. I think I keep searching for this smell because it's the strongest association I have with my grandma. I've been trying to think of a way to properly memorialize her in a tattoo. I do believe I've found it.














PAGE:
1 | 2