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The Churro


The location was Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, the year was 1983. For 8 years I had been living on this planet called Earth and in those 8 years I had never had anything quite like The Churro.

A little backstory…

My grandmother had a booth at a Flea Market in OKC. She sold picture I.D.’s and metal social security plates that had topless women on them. Her clientele consisted mostly of Hispanic males and mothers who wanted a picture I.D. of their child. My sister Precious was old enough that she could actually type up the I.D.’s and sometimes take the pictures for the I.D.’s, but I was still just a kid and so I did what all 8 year old boys do – I explored.

The Flea Market was not the outdoor type, rather, it was indoor and expansive with so many booths full of tools, jewelry, cool nunchucks and Chinese Stars. One particular booth had a sign that said, “You break, you buy, we break, we cry.” It had all sorts of old antique plates with frilly patterns, antique vases, and jade figurines. Everything rested on top of plush red velvet and the little old lady that owned the booth always seemed to be in a dream world. She never talked to me or paid me much attention, she just allowed me to gaze freely upon her wares without interruption.

For some reason the red velvet booth has remained vivid in my memory, but not as vivid as The Churro Stand. I can still remember the first time I smelled the cinnamon and sugar. The sweet fragrance was a pheromone that drew me in and enchanted me much like the White Witch from the Chronicles of Narnia. I followed the delicious aroma until I spyed with my little brown eye the decadent confection that would soon be the object of my affection. About 12 inches long and crusted with cinnamon and sugar The Churro’s hung there in there in the glass case, illuminated by a heat lamp that seemed to enhance their allure. I plucked a crumpled dollar from my pocket and purchased this tasty treat. My mouth salivated and soon I quench my lustful desire by consuming bite after bite of The Churro.

From that point on, every time I went to the Flea Market I begged my grandmother for money so that I could get The Churro and for some reason, on my way to work this morning, I had a craving for this childhood treat. I had The Churro on my mind and I almost drove to OKC to satisfy my craving. If you happen to know where I can get a Churro, or if you happen to know how to make a Churro, then please let me know because I will pay good money for a tasty Churro right now.

By Evan Stark

Eddie Renz is an avid fan of Egyptology, Wilbur Smith and bacon. Not a fan of humility but often finds himself humbled when he is around people who understand numbers like the Fibonacci sequence and Pi.

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