Author: Amada Acosta Addair

Attorney. Amiga. Author. I am a proud Latina lawyer and aspiring author. My writing is Latinx-centered, fiction and nonfiction. I also write about the emerging Hemp industry. Check out my blog, it features nonfiction essays and short stories.

Homemade pasta sauce

Posted on by Amada Acosta Addair in Food Fight, Mama

I like making food for family and friends. It is a type of nurturing. In a time when everyone feels busy and so many of us rely on fast or frozen food, cooking and sharing a meal with another person feels like a gift.

Most of the time the goal is to get a warm meal ready in 30 minutes or less. However, every once in a while I enjoy dedicating time to a meal. I especially like this because my husband and son get excited about the food that I make for them.

Food that takes time and patience has a special significance to me. It feels like a luxury to devote time to meals. So, on occasion, I make special foods. Recently, I took it upon myself to make a tomato-based sauce.

I was lucky enough to obtain a recipe from a friend (Ann S.) whose sauce I long admired. The recipe is simple, elegant and delicious. And it is the sauce that Ann’s Italian family has made forever. If you are ready to get started, here we go…

A good marinara sauce requires few ingredients and a lots of time. Here is the list of ingredients:

2 Cans of tomato puree

2 Cans of warm water

½ yellow onion

Olive Oil

Fresh basil

Fresh garlic

Dried oregano

Dried Italian seasoning

Kosher salt

I put my fresh garlic and yellow onion through my food processor so that I could get small sized pieces. Then, I placed the garlic & onion mixture in a stock pot and sautéed them in olive oil until they were translucent. I poured two cans of tomato puree and two cans of warm water in the stock pot and added the fresh basil. Then, I added 1 tablespoon of dried oregano and 1 tablespoon of Italian seasonings.

The mixture must cook on medium until it boils. While it is boiling, make certain that you are stirring consistently. Once your sauce has boiled, reduce the heat so that it simmers for two hours. Make certain to stir your sauce every 10-15 minutes. When you are done, your efforts will yield approximately fifteen (15) cups of sauce. Remove the fresh basil from the pot. It is only intended to flavor. Let your sauce cool down properly. Then, I recommend that you freeze some of your sauce for future recipes.

Tomato-based pasta sauce simmering.

Special recommendations

Of course, I do not need to tell you that this sauce can be used anywhere a marinara is needed. However, there are a few things you can do to take recipes to the next level. One thing that my friend does is to drop sausage and peppers into the mix while it is marinating during the two hour simmering process. She removes them from the sauce when it has finished cooking. She then uses them to create incredible sausage sandwiches. I like to use the sauce as a pizza sauce. But, in order to do that I recommend the you finely chop your onions and garlic. This will make a delicious pizza sauce.

What will you add to this recipe?

“Rosemary Does Time*”

Posted on by Amada Acosta Addair in Fictional Faves, Mama, Men, Write here, write now

Rosemary stepped onto the fourth floor of the courthouse. “Domestics & Civil,” a sign on the wall read. She looked around. A security guard stood near courtroom three. A man sat at a bench looking angry. People eyeballed one another. Didn’t look so civil. 

Rosemary spotted her attorney with another client. A hand-guided suggestion to sit near courtroom four, was the physical communication her attorney gave. Rosemary followed suit.

Thirty minutes, she noted on her diamond-encrusted Tag Hauer. She had come too early. That was just like Rosemary. So fucking eager. That had always been her weakness. The reason she had landed in the big house in the first place. Seven minutes in heaven? Seventeen years in hell.

“At least he was a good provider.” She heard a voice inside her say. She knew that voice. It was mother’s voice saying the thing Rosemary had once heard grandmother say to her mother.

When Rosemary realized that she was pregnant, Ronald was in his fifth year of college. He barely had enough credits to be considered a first semester junior. But, his parents owned the largest insurance company in the State. Ronald got a Director of Marketing title and a nice office. Rosemary got the M-R-S title and a white, two-story house.

Rosemary extended her left hand to look at the engagement ring. She still hadn’t taken off the two-carat diamond. It was a fine piece of jewelry. And it, along with a home filled with objects had pacified her during the marriage. Ronald was good at gifts; bad at surprises.

Like the time he surprised her during a party at their house. She went downstairs to get more paper products and found him fucking one of her friends in the storage room. 

Like the time he surprised her with an STD.

Liked the time he surprised her son with a fast car. Like the times he allowed her son to have a “drink with dad.” Like the times he taught her son to drive drunk. Like the time…

STOP!

She breathed in through her nose. Held her breath for a five count. Exhaled through her mouth.  

She would not grieve Charles. Not like this. Not. Like. This.  

She would grieve Charles by thinking of all the good times they shared together. The bike rides along Linear Trail. Sunday dinners with family and friends. The road trips Ronald planned for them.

Yes, she would even remember Ronald’s role in the good times. After all, he was part of the good times that she had with her son. A double-edged sword of happy memories and sad thoughts. She could see herself getting addicted to the pain.

“Adoption Day!” A family near courtroom three cheered. A pretty brunette started talking into a phone. “This is our Facebook live event.” 

Rosemary looked at the floor. Adoption day. Maybe she should have considered an adoption day. If she had Charles would still be…

No! She stopped herself. She would never have given Charles up. He was a beautiful baby. He was the perfect baby, her baby. She closed her eyes and saw his beautiful face. Dark bushy eyebrows, jet black hair, and full lips; those had been her gifts to him. Love of music and dancing. Zest for life. He had gained all the best of her Puerto Rican heritage.

And, he had gained some of the worst features of her heritage… Reckless, daring, and her father’s machista attitude. Those had been the other attributes he had gained from her side.

No. Ronald was a machista and he wasn’t Latino. “I’m the man, sweetheart.” He said when she requested he consult with her before making family decisions. It did not matter that her father was a machista and Latino. Ronald was a machista and white. Ethnicity didn’t matter to male dominance.

She looked around for Ronald. Of course, he wasn’t going to show up. He had never shown up for the marriage. Why would he show up for its end?

Rosemary thought about her time moving forward. She had been a child, a freshman in college, when she married at 19. She became a mother at 20. Now at 37, she was going to be single and childless. She had never learned who she was. Now, she was losing everything that she had ever been. 

Rosemary stood up. She did not need to be thinking like this. Not like this. She inhaled through her nose. She went to the nearest restroom. The lighting was horrible but at least there was a full-length mirror. Rosemary stood before it, examining her navy pants and matching jacket. She was going for professional and strong. A crisp white button-down shirt and her favorite scarf, the one she bought in Paris, completed her outfit of choice to commemorate the end of her past. 

She brushed her hands through the dark slanted bob. She had cut off over sixteen inches of hair last night. She applied a plum colored gloss on her lips. Rosemary was ready to get regain her freedom. She would do great things with it. And, she would never take her life, herself, for granted. 

Rosemary’s first order of business; take a road trip with her sister. She had never taken advantage of the liberal paid time off she received while working at her in-law’s insurance company. She had, for example, never gone on a girls’ trip. She would do that now.

Rosemary returned to the hall and found her attorney ready to go into the courtroom. They stood at one of the tables and waited for the judge to appear. “Answer the questions,” her lawyer said. Confirm the agreement.

“All rise.” 

Rosemary watched the judge sit on his bench. He was serious looking in his black robe. His black-framed glasses contrasted sharply with his white hair. He motioned her to the witness stand. 

Rosemary raised her right hand. “I do.” She responded when asked about telling the truth. But could she? Could she tell the truth about her relationship? Did she herself even know what the truth was? She knew what her mother had said, “you do the crime; you pay the time.” 

What had been her crime anyway? Giving her virginity up to a frat boy who did not believe in condoms. No. She would not beat herself up about that. No more. Rosemary knew it was time; time for her to get out. She would call it… early release for good behavior.

“I filed.” She looked at the judge’s face. She wondered if he was a parent. “Incompatibility.” She responded to her lawyer’s question. 

She took a breath and braced herself for the question that was about to come. “Yes. But he died. There are no other children under the age of majority. No other children period.”

The judge looked down at his hands. He was a parent. She recognized the discomfort he felt. It was the discomfort every parent now felt around her. 

“Yes, the agreement is fair, just, and equitable.” She responded. 

Rosemary had been surprised by that. She expected Ronald’s family to rally around him. Especially after Charles’s funeral where she had been poisoned by grief; “he’s dead and it’s on you.” She blamed Ronald; threw it in his face. 

“Thank you, your honor.” Rosemary said after the judge wished her luck. 

Out in the hallway, Rosemary thanked her lawyer and walked away. Her seventeen-year sentence commuted. Ready for a freedom she had not wanted, she walked out the courtroom a childless mother and an ex-wife. But, she walked out a woman ready to be focused on herself. Rosemary’s time was now her own.

*A story about love… or at least the end of it. Welcome to my blog. Today, I am excited to share a short story I wrote a few years ago. Copyright 2018 by Amada Acosta Addair (Gabriela Amada Vega Acosta.)

Book Review: The Assimilated Cuban’s Guide to Quantum Santeria

Posted on by Amada Acosta Addair in Book Club Babes, Fictional Faves

If you enjoy the fast pace of a short story or are a fan of science fiction, I have the book for you. The Assimilated Cuban’s Guide to Quantum Santeria by Carlos Hernandez.

This twelve story collection was a very different read for me. I am not a huge fan of sci-fi. But, I found the stories in this book to be fun, funny, and fundamentally interesting. You can read each in less than one hour. But, I do encourage you to give yourself one hour for each one. You see, after each story I found myself pondering the messages that lay beneath the surface of the story.

For example, in Hernandez’s short story, “Fantaisie Impromptu No. 4 in C#min, Op. 66” you find a journalist interviewing the wife of a piano virtuoso. The two protagonists, a journalist and the wife of a dead concert pianist, of the story are discussing the famous pianist’s soul, which the wife believes to be contained within a piano. The question, if technology could capture the souls of people, would the soul ever get respite? I thought about this after I spoke to my spouse about how the entertainment industry is using holographic imagery to perpetuate the careers of people like Elvis Presley, Buddy Holly, and Michael Jackson. This enables them to continue to reap profits from these dead musicians. And, this story actually made me wonder about the impact to the souls of these still loved artists. Alternately, is it better to be remembered and get no respite than to be forgotten?

All of the stories in this book have an interesting mix of science and faith, reality and magic. It is a good book. And because it is a compilation of short stories, even if you finish a story and do not pick the book back up for a month you will be fine. Your story recollection is not compromised because you go on to a new story. In sum, I highly recommend this book.

Have you read any other works by Carlos Hernandez?

My Favorite Albums of All Time

Posted on by Amada Acosta Addair in The Soundtrack of my life

Music has always been, for me, a time machine that enabled me to return to the most important moments in my life. In September 2020, Rolling Stone compiled a list of the 500 best albums of all time. And while they are the definitive guide to music, I thought that I would put my two cents in on the matter. Okay, so my list is not as comprehensive or properly cultivated as Rolling Stone’s. After all, they had the advantage of reaching out to music experts. Luckily, I am a kind of expert… in the things I like. So, because I have such strong opinions and emotions, I thought that I would put my own spin on this list.

AMOR PROHIBIDO

If you have never heard of this album you are either a millennial or non-Latinx. Perhaps a millennial, non-Latinx! This is the definitive album of Selena. No. Not Gomez. The OG Reina. Tejano queen, Selena Quintanilla.

This album was released in 1994. The songs in this album quickly became hits. The thing I like about this album is that it is a melange of Latino music sounds. The songs in this album include cumbia, ranchera, and even pop en Español beats. There are so many good songs on this album. “Amor Prohibido” which tells of a forbidden love, “Bidi Bidi Mom Mom” a fun song that perfectly explains the feelings of early love, and “El Chico del Apartment 512” a tale of a secret crush, are just a few of my favorites.

The best thing about this album is that, for me, it creates a nostalgic feeling of happiness. When this album first came out and became popular, the world felt one way. These songs would play at quinceañeras and family fiestas. I associated them with the most fun times of my teenage years. Unfortunately, things would quickly change. Only one year and thirteen days after the release of this album, the world would learn of the murder of Selena Quintanilla.

ENDLESS SUMMER

I first learned of The Beach Boys in the 90s thanks to the biopic “Summer Dreams” which I saw on network TV. This movie of the week introduced me some of the best of music I have ever heard. The movie highlighted the pressure imposed upon the band by parents and record executives. It reinforced the idea of the tortured artist for me.

I bought this album on CD. And, I began to enjoy magnificent pop music. I really liked this compilation album. In fact, it is the album that taught me that musicians make “Best of” albums and compile all their most popular music in one package. This album will not disappoint. It includes may of The Beach Boys’ best songs like “Surfin’ USA,” “Fun, Fun, Fun,” “I Get Around,” “Help Me Rhonda,” and “Good Vibrations.”

If you like “oldies,” listen to this album. After all, The Beach Boys are considered the architects of that California sound that is often associated with some of the best of 60s music.

THE IMMACULATE COLLECTION

I grew up in the Madonna heyday so it may not come as a shock to you that this album is on my favorite albums of all time list. Like Endless Summer above, is a greatest hits compilation album. On it, you will find Madonna’s most popular songs of the 80s. Many are modified in one way or another. But, they are excellently crafted. Thirteen of the fifteen songs on this album are the artist’s former hits. The two new tracks on this album- Justify My Love and Rescue Me- also received acclaim.

The first time I recall learning about this album was when I watched the video for “Justify My Love.” There’s some interesting S&M thing going on in that video that I did not quite understand as a fourteen year old living in small town USA! One cool thing I learned about this song while preparing this post was that Lenny Kravitz co-wrote it.

Although I have continued to be a fan of Madonna’s new music, I contend that this album contains all of her best music. Her 80s songs have energy and a good beat that, in my opinion showcase what Madonna was best at- over the top energy.

FANMAIL

TLC’s Fanmail is the soundtrack of my twenties. In fact, FANMAIL is my favorite album of all time. I find myself listening to this album at least twice every year. That may not seem like much. But, I do think that is something. After all, thanks to the internet we have a world of entertainment available with the click of a finger. Yet, I still go back to this album often. More importantly, every time I hear this album I am blown away by how fresh and current it still sounds. I contend that it sounds as fresh as the music that people like Beyonce, Megan Thee Stallion and Doja Cat are releasing today. As such, I feel confident declaring this album a timeless classic.

This fourteen song album is, in my opinion, the definitive compilation of songs for young women. The tracks speak to the struggles of women entering adulthood often find themselves facing. From learning about standing up for oneself with the track “My Life,” dealing with the shitty dudes that call a woman a “Silly Ho,” realizing the type of man worthy of your affections with “No Scrubs,” identifying those feelings of insecurity with “Unpretty,” or claiming one’s sexuality with “I’m Good at Being Bad” or “Don’t Pull Out on Me Yet,” this album speaks to all of the struggles of modern-day mujeres.

The reason I like this album more than any other is that I honestly cannot pick a favorite song from this album. They are all that solid. Plus, it would be the last album from TLC that I really focused on as one of the group’s singers, Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes, would be dead less than two years after the release of this album.

Any of your favorite albums on my list? If not, which albums am I missing?

Master of My Multiverse

Posted on by Amada Acosta Addair in American Me, Mama, Wise Latina

As a POC child growing up in America, I straddled two universes.

On one hand, I was a part of the America where being on the cheerleading squad, listening to pop, rock, or rap, and watching the latest episode of 90210 were important. On the other, I was a part of an America where being invited to be a dama in a quinceañera, listening to Banda Machos, and watching Muchachitas were equally important.

I think this is often the case for people who immigrate to this country, though I do believe that it can be a part of the lives of people whose family stretches in America for generations. The home life links you to your family’s past and culture while the professional or school life tethers you to mainstream (Anglo) America. When I was younger, this felt like a lot of work, straddling two cultures.

As a POC adult, I find myself with both feet squarely planted in white America and further away from the Latino-landia that surrounded me when I was younger. I pondered for a long time why that was. Here’s what I realized. As a young person, I was inculcated in the Latino world of my parents. My parents attended and sponsored weddings, baby showers, and quinceañeras. I participated in these activities because my parents did not hire babysitters to care for my brothers and I at home while they went out. No. We attended all of those activities. Everyone in our community did the same, it was standard. Result, I was around Spanish, food, friends, and familia.

Now, I live in a largely caucasian world. In my hometown, Latinos make up less than 5% of the population. The majority of my friends are non-Latinos and I have no extended family to lean on for Mexican-style fun. Spanish is spoken for business purposes or to converse with my family members by phone or social media. And, the only other Latina I interact with on a regular (daily) basis is my legal assistant. This means that my mom is not around daily to share the stories of our family, no friend to turn up the music when a good Banda song comes on, and no older aunt to remind me to prepare a family altar for Dia del Muerto. And I can forget about having a posada, who would I even invite?

This question stayed with me for a long while…

How do we, the Americanized children of immigrants, continue to connect to our cultures when we no longer live within our immigrant communities?

 I realized that the effort had to come from me. It was my responsibility to create opportunities for myself to connect to my culture. Here’s a list of the things that I started to do to help me reconnect:

Find organizations that can help you connect with your culture. Join a business or social organizations (check out MANA or your local Hispanic Chamber of Commerce) or participate in a faith-based communities (in my town, a local Catholic Church holds mass in Spanish every Sunday).

Get lost in the world of entertainment. Read books by POC authors. Find a movie or show on your favorite streaming services (bonus points if you watch it in your native language.) Play music from the artists your parents liked (this will give you a strong wave of nostalgia.)

Force yourself to cook recipes from your culture correctly. The yummy results will transport you to your past and give you a sense of appreciation for the love and work your parents put into meals.

Make it a point to visit your OG community for fun activities and events. When the covid-19 pandemic ends, my goal is to return to Garden City, KS for the 16th of September celebrations that occur annually.

Bring your culture into your own world. For example, if you are in a book club, select a book written by a POC author this way, you share your culture with your non-POC friends.

Finally, learn your native language or teach it to your children. According to a mentor I once had, older generations hesitated to teach their children the native languages because diversity was frowned upon before. My mentor recalled being punished in schools for speaking Spanish, even in a lunchroom setting. However, the tides have turned. Your kid will not be smacked with a ruler on the knuckles for speaking Spanish. Teaching yourself or your children the native language will provide a link to their past or enable them to communicate with family still in the old country. More importantly, in our increasingly multicultural country and ever-shrinking world, knowing more than one language is an asset.

What are the things you do to connect with your culture?