Mexican Coke

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I turned mah back so Uncle wouldn't hear the conversation, an' walked into another room.

When I got back to the stove an' give the skillet a shake I seen how Uncle was lookin' crosswise at me. I shook the skillet again, deftly wif' a jab of the wrist, jes' so, flippin the contents an' releasin' them good aromas.

"Who was that?" Aloysius demanded.

"Who, who?" I replied.

"Doan even try that, Belle. WHO was that on the phone?"



"Oh....jes 'a supplier."

His eyes was squintin'.

After dinner Uncle declined a second pice of pie and put his elbow on the table signalin' that dinner were done and somethin' serious was to be discussed.

"Supplier of what?"



I turned mah back, plates in hand an' moved off toward the sink.

"Coke."

After a moment Uncle said, "Coke? They run out of it at the Jitney Jungle?"

"Ain't been no Jitney's now fer 40 years, Aloysius, " I chuckled at him. "Yore mama shopped thar' but I ain't never set no foot in a Jitney Jungle."


"Belle, doan try it. Keep to the Coke. Why ya need a supplier of Co-Cola? Does we buy so much youse lookin' fer a discount?"

"Mexican Coke. They doan 'xactly sell it a Publix."

I din't need to turn around to see the shock on his face.

"Mexican coke?" he roared, "What in the *^#! does ya mean, Woman?"


Well, iffin' youse a regular reader on this Porch ya know I detests bein' called "Woman." Natcherly, I declined to answer. The tension bounced along the rafters.

"Belle?" The voice was flat.

"I notice how ya seem to want to put a bad connotation on what I'se doin'. Why is that? Ain't I been 'bout the squeekiest clean thang ya ever knowed? " I turned around, hands on hips, chin poked out a wee bit, glint in eye, ready fer a rumble.

Uncle's shoulders dropped a millimeter an' he got that look of deviltry in his eyes.

"Mebbe I was jes' hopin' youse loosed up some ."

"Well, thar ain't no use in that, now, is thar? We done danced around that pole a few times an' the result is always the same."

Iffin' y'all ain't figgered it out yet, when me an Uncle got hitched we wus young'uns. (That were a l o n g time ago) He thought he was gonna show Miss Starry Eyed Innocent a few ropes, an' I thought I'd clean up his Ain't I Cute When I'se Bad act...it's been a Mexican stand-off all these years.




But its the Real Thang I'se after. Coke, that is. Mexican Coke, not Atlanta's Coca-Cola.


They make Coke in Mexico wif' cane syrup, not corn syrup. It's different. The ole time Real Thang was made with Southern cane syrup. In the 1980s --remember NEW COKE?--the Atlanta boys decided corn high fructose syrup was cheaper --it is. But when Coke Classic was brought back it was a year or so later and nuthin much changed--jes' that yore taste fer cane syrup was wiped out since most popular beverages moved on to the corn wagon.

But down Mexico way they make the Real Thang. An' in some parts of Texas and New Mex ya' can git a Mexican bottled Coke--try it an' see what ya think. Youse gonna pay more, since they's sorta bootlegged. But boy! It is the taste of your teen years--well, not Troll's teen years. It is cleaner, an' the fizz is refreshin' wif'out that big blast of them modern corn-Cokes. Aunty says put cane in Coke leave the Corn for Jack Black.

Cain't find no Mexican underground Coke? Wait 'til next Passover an' get a yellow toped Coke--corn ain't allowed fer Kosher Passovers.

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P.S. Fer cryin' out loud--them idjits at Coke is now makin' the bottles outa sugar cane!
Mercy--make the bottles outa CORN and put the CANE in the drink ya dimwits!

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