Page:IN MEMORY OF THE SOUL OF DON TREMENTINO MARABUNTA.pdf/1



Original Title: En memoria del alma de Trementino Marabunta Translate: Ingrid Flores (Docente adjunta en Universidad de O'Higgins, Chile) Published in Alien Minds. La Rama Dorada Ediciones, Buenos Aires (Argentina), 2018

Trementino Marabunta loved to cook. In fact, don Trementino, over all the activities that an artist could have devoted himself to, had long since opted for the one he loved most: cooking. This, even though, throughout his life, there are witnesses to this, he only knew how to cook a single hot dish; one and nothing else. However, in his defense, it must be said that every time he cooked it, every time he served it, the taste, smell and texture of his masterpiece transmitted to the lucky diner, feelings so varied, so intimate, that the only hot dish seemed to multiply towards infinity.

At that moment, at that very moment when the taste buds came in contact with the precious treasure, many smiles were not long in coming. Especially, among those who were its main critics, who, without even knowing it, revealed pupils so dilated that, surprisingly, seemed to cover the entire eyeball; besides, the anxious movements of the mouths and hearts beating very strongly, always accused of wanting a little more. Perhaps, after eating with Trementino Marabunta, that one hot dish, created with so much passion, more than one would conclude that a single dish of food can equal all the hot dishes that have been served since the beginning of time. Undoubtedly, Trementino Marabunta loved to cook.

-What did he cook? -You'll wonder right away. The answer itself is complex. The most superficial people, more "adult", more comfortable in this role, perhaps will say, with arrogant security, that the only dish of Marabunta was a simplicity: rice with ground meat. It is even possible, as I have seen happening on more than one occasion, that these people will despise the graciously served warning that anyone, in this and any reality, would be able to cook something so insignificant. However, there are also those with more heart, who are far removed from the obtuse routine, those who resemble the children he always served them with so much affection. They, and only they, always managed to notice that every hot dish, from our beloved chef, had a different flavor.