Food

You knew I'd get to this subject sooner or later, didn't you?

Here's how our eating life is structured in Mexico (and for that matter, at home). For breakfast we have a large bowl of fruit (mango, papaya, pineapple, strawberries, blackberries--whatever we find in the mercado) with yogurt and granola. I walk across the street to the little store and buy 2 bolillos (small crusty breads), which is all that remains of the legacy of the French in México. Remember poor Maximillian, who came to such a bad end in Querétaro when he was shot by firing squad after trying to escape? By the way, the verb for "to shoot by firing squad," so bulky in English, is "fusilar."

With this we have fresh squeezed orange juice, from oranges that are 3 or 4 kilos for 10 pesos. Also we usually have some cheese, though the last time we went to Morelia we found excellent Spanish ham. A local cheese producer makes good butter, and grocery store jam (mermelada) rounds out the feast. So far we've tried blackberry and pineapple, and are now working our way through a jar of strawberry.

The next meal is comida, and after such a good breakfast we aren't ready to eat again until 2pm. Mexicans eat the main meal of the day between 2 and 4pm, and most restaurants are not ready to serve until then. This is much healthier than having a big meal at night, I think.

There are many good restaurants in Pátzcuaro, though none really approach excellence. For that you have to go to Morelia. Many small places offer menu del día, or comida corrida (literally, running lunch), which consists of a salad like guacamole, soup, a choice of several entrees, a simple dessert, and a non-alcoholic beverage, for around 60 pesos (about $5.50 at the current rate of exchange). How they can do this is beyond me. It is sufficient food to satisfy us for the rest of the day.

Today we brought home a half kilo of carnitas, from what's thought of as the best place in town. Carnitas de Plazas starts every day except Monday with an entire pig, roasted somehow and somewhere, and when the pig is gone they close the doors. People either come for a sandwich to eat onsite, or buy some to take home. A half kilo is enough for at least 2 meals for us. As you're moving down the line, pointing out which parts of the pig you want, the man doing the carving motions for you to take a hot tortilla so he can give you a bite of the beast. You can dose it with one of 2 salsas--green tomatillo or red chile, both very spicy--and some chopped onion and cilantro, and after you've snacked you can pick up your carnitas and pay. On the way home we stopped for a half kilo of tortillas.

The person who handles the food never handles the money. And if they have to, they always put on a plastic glove when they handle money. There's incredible awareness about this in México. In restaurants the food handlers wear gloves, masks and hairnets, even in the smallest places.

If we're still hungry--that would be Mark--there's always our local taco man. He has never disappointed, though if we get there too late he's forced to scrape together the last bits to make a few tacos.

By the way, tacos in México aren't what we see in the US. Instead of hard shells that crumble at the first bite, these are soft tacos. A taco stand consists of a round donut-like grill with the meat and whole onions (my favorite part) around the outside of the ring, and a raised dome in the middle where the tortillas are heated and grilled a bit with some of the oil from the meat, which can be ground beef, al pastor (pork with pineapple), or chorizo. The tortillas are about 5" across, and each taco has 2 of them., probably because the filling would collapse a single one.

Adjacent to the grill are bowls of sliced cucumber, limes, chopped cilantro, chopped white onions (I've never seen yellow onions in México), a couple of very spicy salsas, and plates or styrofoam trays. Our local man only does tacos para llevar (to carry, or takeout), but other stands have stools and makeshift tables for people who want to eat on the street. In that case the plates, which are hard plastic, are covered with plastic bags, and when returned the plastic bags are discarded for new ones. This saves on dishwashing, and is an idea that many of us could appreciate. No forks or spoons needed--this is food to be eaten with your hands. We've eaten street tacos all over México, and by following a couple of rules (no handling of money, lots of customers) we've never been sick. Yet.