The tostones love affair

So. It’s Hispanic Heritage Month. And with all of the things I could have written about to cover this month, look what I chose. Tostones. I always have food on my mind. I can’t help it. But, this delicious little plantain delight is more than just a snack or side dish for me. They represent the moments my mom had a little bit of extra time in the kitchen (between working and going to school). It was like “Oh! Mom’s making tostones! It’s about to be an awesome day!”. They were also the addition to her a-ma-zing sopa de camarones, which is what she makes me whenever she visits.

After moving out of my mom’s home, I can’t say I made tostones for myself. I may have ordered them at Latino restaurants once in a while, but my palette started changing and the world of international dishes opened up for me more and more as I got older. My son has eaten these at the home of family and friends (which was also his introduction to Mayo-Ketchup – a dip I actually did not grow up with because my family typically served tostones with garlic), so at least he has been given the savory gift of the almighty fried plantain. It was the forgotten side dish that only made an appearance when mom was in town, and that’s just sad. It wasn’t until my guy moved in with us that these were introduced back into my life. With each bite, memories of my family (mom, grandmother, aunts, uncles) and the local neighborhood restaurants from my childhood (Caridad, anyone?) started to resurface. It felt like home. They say a way to man’s heart is through his stomach. Does it count that my friends tell me my personality is more like a guy? Because I certainly caught a bit of love-jones when these were whipped up.