Mexican Food

Of course Mexican food in US restaurants differs from Mexican restaurants ‘in country’ also.  There, it gets even more bizarre.  On the bright side, there’s mole, red or black or shades of brown intermediate, blood and chocolate made to order.  On the down side, there’s menudo, like the Puerto Rican pop group, literally bits and pieces of this and that, mostly tripe.  Remember Ricky Martin?  It’s an acquired taste I guess.  Once, in Mexico, I helped kill chickens for a party.  Actually I just watched, not horrified, because I’ve seen it before, but not inspired, either.  I think there were twenty to thirty of the little squawkers, throats carefully slit and blood collected in a large copper #3 washtub.  The pile of mole paste eventually covered an entire table before being put to the fire and made liquid to be ladled over boiled chicken.  Then we paraded around town with a picture of the Virgen de Guadalupe.  Chili pastes in Thailand and Mexico look very similar, actually.  The women don’t.  Both take on a fat content in Mexico that would put Thailand out of business.  That’s what happens when lard is one of your main ingredients, I guess.  That’s what makes those tortillas so creamy smooth.  North Thailand uses too much grease also, more than the central region, but what really bothers me is that the coconut milk in those curries seems to congeal at well above freezing temperature.  I don’t mean thick; I mean breakable.  Not as high as nitroglycerin freezing at 50 degrees F, but high enough that I see pictures of it in my mind blocking arteries.  Nevertheless, I still haven’t gotten used to internal body parts in my food.  If God had wanted me to see this stuff, he’d have put it out there in the open.       

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