When my brother and I were little, my Grandpa Avalos would pick us up on Friday evening and then drive us home on Sunday afternoon. My parent's custody arrangement was that my dad got us every other weekend. Except that he, more often than not, didn't come to pick us up. But Grandpa would! Without fail. So we spent many a weekend with my grandparents.
We lived in the town of Orange, about a block from my all time favorite Mexican restaurant, Moreno's:
Moreno's, in addition to the awesome food, has a bakery in a small building next to the banquet hall (which is actually a Quaker church built in the late 1800's). Here's a photo of the entire property:
Photo credit to these folks.
Often, on Sunday afternoon, Grandpa would pass our apartment complex and then drive to Moreno's. We would pull into the parking lot and go inside the bakery where he would let us pick out some cookies and sweet bread.
Grandpa always knew someone that was working there. Because that was Grandpa. At his Rosary and funeral, more than one person talked about how he seemed to know everyone. My Uncle said that when he was little, he thought his dad must have been a rock star or something because no matter where they went, everyone knew Emilio Avalos.
Occasionally, my brother and I would get antsy waiting for him while he gabbed. But eventually it paid off. We would walk out with a bag of sweet bread and cookies. We took it home with us and I'm not too proud to admit that sometimes I ate the sweet topping off and chucked the rest of the pan dulce.
I haven't had it in years. It's not easily found in Eastern North Carolina. And it's not your typical Mexican restaurant that has a bakery. At least not these days. Tonight, while in downtown Lake Elsinore for their "Winter Fest," we walked past a Mexican place we had never noticed before. They had a bakery. Seeing the rows of bread and cookies took me back instantly.
I knew I had to buy some. So I did, as you can see from the photo above. I bought them for my Grandpa. I bought them because sometimes it's the little things that make me grateful to have had such a good man be a part of my life.
He always bought enough so that my mom could enjoy some too. That's how he was. He may have acted like a tough guy, but he was a big softy with a heart of gold. Very few know, I'm sure, how often he slipped my mom money for groceries on those Sunday afternoons, while we brought in our overnight bags and the treats from Moreno's.
It's funny how something as simple as a small Mexican bakery can take you back to the beginning. I'm so grateful to have had the grandparents I have. I may have appeared as though I just bought a few cookies and pan dulce tonight, but what I really did was take a step back in time.


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