Tastes Like Tahoe

We went to Winco Foods in Kent on Saturday. We were there in search of Torani Creme De Menthe because Mr. T wanted to make Mint Juleps for Mardi Gras. They didn't have the syrup, but they did have Shasta.

Remember Shasta? "I want a pop. I want a Shas-ta!"

Mr. T likes his soda and I could tell the trip to Winco was worth it. Worth the pushy carts, worth other people's children's tantrums and worth the maddeningly slow shuffling pace down each aisle, all while trying to entertain a teething 9-month-old and attempting to keep a smile on my face. Attempting.

Mr. T was high on his Shasta find and mostly oblivious to all of this. He loaded two 12-pack boxes in the cart. Diet Grape and Diet Cream Soda. I really didn't care about his discovery. I just wanted to get the hell out of there.

But, then last night, I noticed a tall clear glass filled with cream soda and ice sitting on our island countertop. The carbonation was whispering softly and the transluscent caramel liquid was sparkling in the recessed kitchen lighting.

I snuck a sip.

As soon as the cold drink washed over my tongue, I was transported back in time to a faded blanket covering a square of yellow coarse sand on the shore of Lake Tahoe. Fresh pine and mountain air filled my nose as the memory lapped over me and then quickly retreated.

My mother sat neatly on the blanket with my father who stretched his legs out in front, crossing his ankles and leaning back on one hand. A silver Coors Light can in the other. A small cooler in between them was ready with homemade sandwiches for me and my younger sisters. There also was green grapes, Ritz crackers and warm cheddar slices, Pecan Sandies and Shasta Cream Soda.

Mom didn't buy soda to have at the house. It was for special occasions like road trips or vacations. We went to Tahoe a few weekends every summer and winter. It wasn't very far away, just under two hours from where we lived in Granite Bay, Calif. My dad's parents lived in a great big house in Tahoe City at one point, so we either stayed with them or in our cabin depending on which year it was.

Summer in Lake Tahoe is full of contrasts. It is warm, but somehow still crisp and clean. It stays around 80 during the day, but the temperature drops to jeans-and-a-jacket weather at night. The beach sand is rough and hot, but the sapphire water is as cold as snow.

Me and my sisters built sandcastles, collected pine cones or practiced skipping smooth-sided stones across the shoreline. We mostly stayed out of the lake except to wash the sand from our knees, which left thousands of tiny red indentations on our skin.

When we got hungry, we sat on the blanket and ate pieces of greasy cheese on crackers. When we were thirsty, we shared a soda.

I thought of this in the middle of my quiet kitchen on a cold, dark night in Washington state during a 3-second taste of Shasta Diet Cream Soda. "Tastes like Tahoe," I told Mr. T, who looked at me curiously.

Sometimes I wonder what T Junior will remember about his childhood. I know he won't be able to recall anything from this year or the next year or maybe even a couple more years after that.

But, what memories will Mr. T and I end up creating for him in the future? What will be his Shasta Diet Cream Soda? What's yours?