Daily writing prompt
Which food, when you eat it, instantly transports you to childhood?
Alamosa, Colorado, late 1950s

Italian salad dressing.

I smell it and almost instantly I’m in the back seat of the grandpa’s Oldsmobile.

We’d gone into Alamosa, Colorado to purchase produce at Oba’s. I remember going into the warehouse and smelling the stacks of lettuce, tomatoes and onions. While Mr. Oba and Grandpa worked over the order, I sat on a stool. There, I drank a Coke with peanuts dumped in it and kicked my feet.

Once the business was done, we went to magical department stores with bizarre names like Hested’s and Woolworth. There my grandmother would purchase yarn.

But before leaving town, there was one final stop. It was a little place right on Highway 285 and not far from the State Patrol building. It was a small restaurant called “Kelso’s Drive in.” I seem to recall it had been built in an old caboose. Maybe that was wishful thinking. I was a boy who was (and still is) nuts about trains.

It was like a touch of paradise.

And the smells. Hamburgers and Hot Dogs grilling and sizzling. French fries boiling in oil and cooking to perfection. And malts. Every flavor you cared to mention. They were always ice cold in a paper cup and the condensation streamed down onto your fingers.

If Hot Dog and Hamburgers weren’t your speed, you could get a salad. Kelso’s had only one dressing. Italian dressing. And when the salad drenched in dressing was delivered, it smelled like heaven.

And to this day, I smell Italian dressing. It’s like magic. I’m back in time to Kelso’s Drive-in and sitting in the back of my grandpa’s car drinking a shake.

Where Kelso’s used to be. On a good day, you can still smell the fries cooking.

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