There’s nothing like a mug of hot cocoa on winter’s day. Lesley dug out some marshmallows that were left over from a camping trip with my son’s last spring to add to the treat. I had forgotten how well they topped off a hot cup of cocoa. Tasty and fun. It took me back more years than I want to acknowledge to when I was a kid in California. Then, it was hot chocolate made with milk heated in a pot over the gas burner of our stove. (That was before we moved to the hills and reverted to using a wood stove.) Hot chocolate. It was also the best accompaniment to a grilled cheese sandwich ever. That, along with a cup of tomato soup, was a real lunch treat for my sister and me. You know, it still sounds good. I still love grilled cheese. Come to think of it, I haven’t had tomato soup in years . I don’t even know if I like it anymore, but it sounds good.
When we moved from Oakland to the northern California hills, I got my first taste of snow. Literally. We were coming home from school, and the bus couldn’t make it all the way. Stranded in the snow. We had to walk about four and a half miles to get home. Mom was waiting for us, worried but thankful to have us there safe. After getting us dried off and thawed out, she made something she called “snow cream”, a cup of snow mixed with canned milk and maple syrup. We thought it was terrific, but then, we were kids. These days, I’m sure I would prefer French Vanilla ice cream or frozen custard.
We didn’t have snow often where we lived, just occasionally. Most of the winter, it was just cold. For college, I moved back to the bay area, but I got a refresher course in winter snow when I was in the navy and in New Port, Rhode Island. I remember going to a Christmas midnight mass during a snowstorm. Everyone was heavily bundled, and you could see your breath when you talked. Several inches of snow made everything feel like living in a Currier and Ives scene. That night still stands out as a special Christmas experience.
On another occasion, I was at a donut shop in New Port. Several kids sat at the other end of the counter, enjoying donuts and hot cocoa. One of them wasn’t taking part in the eating and drinking. A portly beat cop demanded in a loud voice to know why that one wasn’t having anything. He said he wasn’t hungry and didn’t want anything. One of the other kids said it was because he didn’t have any money. The cop, in the same loud voice, told the wait person to give the kid a hot cocoa and whatever kind of donuts he wanted. The young boy tried to turn down the offer, but the cop told him he would either “. . .eat it or wear it”. Some police officers know the street–and care. They can be great. I think some are still out there.
I like to think Bobby Navarro would be the kind of guy who would notice a young boy in a group of kids doing without in order to at least be a part of the group. I don’t think such a boy would turn down a command to accept a couple of donuts and mug of hot cocoa from a biker like Bobby either.
Funny how something like a mug of hot cocoa can stir memories of cold days past. How about you?
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