Jasmine Lopez

Her grandmother also made sure that connection included O’odham language and food. Some of Jasmine’s earliest experiences with O’odham foods came from those trips home, spending time with family and being around community.

For Jasmine, those memories are often tied to the small details of being there.

She remembers grandmothers and aunties gathered together making ciolim. She remembers the smell of fresh dough and mesquite wood burning, and watching the dough cook over the fire.

Her favorite part was the bubbles.

As they formed, parts of the ciolim would darken against the heat, leaving behind the texture and slightly burnt flavor she loved.

“You could really taste it,” Jasmine said.

Sometimes her grandmother kept things simple. Growing up, Jasmine remembers eating ciolim with peanut butter and jelly, an easy meal that became one of those familiar combinations she still thinks about.

Other foods bring back memories of gathering with community. She remembers ga’iwsa and especially the garbanzo beans inside it. She remembers white tepary beans with short ribs, ham or bacon, and eating them with popovers, ciolim or bread.

As Jasmine got older, her curiosity about O’odham foods began to grow too. She started thinking more about what could be gathered from the desert, how those foods were prepared and the knowledge that came with knowing what was around her.

Some of that knowledge had already been finding its way to her since she was young.

One of Jasmine’s favorite experiences is harvesting bahidaj.

She remembers the process through the sounds that come with it. The scraping of the cactus rib against the ha:sañ. The sound of the fruit finally falling and hitting the ground. Then comes opening the fruit and getting to eat what you worked to bring down.

“I love the sound of the cactus rib scratching against the thorns on the ha:sañ,” Jasmine said. “I love that sound.”

The fruit itself is something she has a harder time putting into words.

Sometimes bahidaj can be bitter, but Jasmine remembers it mostly for its sweetness and the crunch of its many seeds. She compares the flavor to a really juicy strawberry or raspberry, but even that does not quite describe it.

“It’s a sweetness that you can’t really capture in words,” she said, “because you’re meant to just eat it.”

She loves it fresh, but she also loves when the fruit has dried and becomes chewy, almost like candy.

Her grandmother introduced her to another desert food in a much less successful way.

Jasmine remembers being young and somewhere out on the Nation when her grandmother reached for something on a mesquite tree. It looked waxy and almost candy-like.

Then her grandmother ate it.

Jasmine remembers wondering what she was doing.

Her grandmother gave her some to try too, and Jasmine immediately hated it.

The mesquite sap was tart and bitter. Even worse to her at the time, it stuck to her teeth.

Her grandmother had a much longer relationship with it. She told Jasmine stories about gathering the sap with her sister when she was young. They would collect it and sell it in bags or small jars, sometimes adding sugar or honey.

As a kid, Jasmine could not understand the appeal.

Now, she does.

As she got older, her taste changed and she began enjoying some of the bitterness she disliked as a child. She has even tried finding her own ways to eat it.

One experiment involved Tajín, chile and lime.

It sounded good in theory.

It was not.

“That did not work out well,” Jasmine said.

That willingness to experiment has become part of Jasmine’s relationship with O’odham foods. She is interested in learning older ways of preparing foods while also seeing what else can be done with them.

She has found new recipes for beans that she had never thought about making before. She wants to learn how to harvest cholla buds herself and has tried different foods growing around her.

At the same time, Jasmine thinks there are certain skills that should continue to be passed down.

One of them takes her back to those early memories of watching her grandmothers and aunties around the fire.

“I hope that the art of cooking on the mesquite fire doesn’t get lost,” Jasmine said.

Cooking over an open fire is not something she sees as simple. Her own grandmother has told her there are things she knows how to cook that way and other things that do not come out quite right.

“It is a skill. It’s an art,” Jasmine said.

That is part of what Jasmine hopes younger generations continue to learn.

She knows the ways people cook and harvest will continue to change. She has already seen newer tools being used for harvesting and O’odham foods being incorporated into recipes in ways she did not necessarily grow up seeing.

Jasmine is curious about those changes. She likes the idea of trying something different.

What she does not want is for the knowledge behind the food to disappear along the way.

For Jasmine, part of that knowledge comes from understanding what is already around you. The desert holds foods that generations of O’odham people have known how to gather, grow and prepare. Learning about those foods has made her more aware of just how much can come from the environment around her.

She thinks about that especially when it comes to beans.

Jasmine has been learning more about different O’odham beans and efforts to bring varieties back into use. She hopes younger generations continue that work, whether they are learning older recipes or finding new ways to cook them.

For her, continuing those foods is also about continuing the knowledge that comes with them.

At the end of the conversation, Jasmine tried to think of one simple message she would leave for future generations.

She worked through a few ideas before landing on one.

“Don’t let the beans die,” she said.

Then she laughed.

“Mic drop.”

It was funny, but the message carried everything Jasmine had been talking about.

Keep learning.

Keep trying things.

Keep using what is around you.

And keep the knowledge connected to those foods moving forward.

Don’t let the beans die.