While holding a can of Budweiser and tending to chicken thighs on a backyard grill, Natalia Mendez talks about their grandfather.

“This is like a smell of my childhood,” Mendez says.

Mendez occasionally pours some beer on the chicken, making it sizzle and smoke, tempering the flames caused by fat dripping on coals.

“My grandpa, when he taught my dad this recipe, said it has to be Budweiser,” Mendez says.

Mendez muses that perhaps their grandfather preferred it because it was a rice beer, instead of wheat, and maybe that gave the chicken a unique flavor.

“For a while, they were calling it ‘Budweiser America,’” Mendez continues. “It's interesting to think about my family's legacy to America and what that looks and felt like for them, because my grandpa was an immigrant and a civil right

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