The 'cashewian moment'

As I prepare notes on food and memory, a waft of roasted cashew smells catch my senses and I am transported to the house where my mom grew up. A story that had stayed with me all these years popped out of my memory as it does whenever the aroma of the roasted cashews comes my way.
 Fondly remembering a nostalgic past, my mother shared with me memories of a time when the cashew was plucked from the trees, roasted, and relished straightaway.
The image of the charred cashews and the bitter-sweet-tanginess of the cashew apple stayed with me ever since. The story got etched in my mind with all the juices, colours and texture of the cashew fruit.
With the aroma of a thousand flavours choking the senses and the image of the red fruit tranquillising the same, the 'cashewian moment' engulfed me.