One of the most wonderful aspects of the great state of California is that it borders Mexico, making it a cornucopia of Mexican people and food. Dwelling in this great land of Mediterranean weather and liberal folks has certainly done me right. My love for Mexican food, however, is starting to do me way, way wrong. I’ve been harboring a secret tamale addiction for the past several weeks. Every night for dinner: tamales from Trader Joes. While I have often thought wistfully of the fun involved in making one of the many recipes available for homemade tamales, I have yet to take it to that level (mainly because of my oft mentioned cat situation which has made me a semi-comatose, nervous wreck unable to function in my previously blissful home environment). The Trader Joe’s tamales are yummy and ready in 4 minutes, making them tantalizingly easy. This week, I decided to try the Trader Joe’s Taquitos. A quick google search seems to place taquitos in the snack food category, though this has not stopped me from making them the basis of many a meal. I realized my want of Mexican food had reached an absurd level when, on Wednesday, my food intake was as follows:
Breakfast: breakfast burrito
Lunch: tamales
Dinner: taquitos in addition to chips and salsa
That is three meals of Mexican food right in a row. I also usually have a small baby sized burrito once a week. In the past month, I have gone completely insane regarding two topics: my cat and Mexican food. When will this insanity end? Is there something in Mexican food that triggers endorphin release much like that other great food stuff, chocolate?
I would also like to express my love of the Mexican people who have shared (or had stolen in addition to parts of their native land) the delicious food of their culture. Though I went to high school in a state that bordered Mexico and in fact had many Mexican school mates, I was too oblivious to understand much about these amazing people. After college, however, I taught ESL to Mexican immigrants and, still to this day, get really sad about leaving that job. I taught English to adults and learned that it’s a really hard and confusing language and I was often at a loss for how to explain things (like count vs. non count nouns--WTF?). More importantly, I fell in love with the adults who were so passionate, smart, hopeful and inspiring. I get sad about the ones who worked crappy jobs and were taunted by their American co-workers and the others who were separated from their families. It’s such a warm, open culture, and really the only one with people who inspire me to be Catholic.
PS. Carrot Top (WARNING: very shocking and oddly both attractive and repulsive at the same time! (ok, maybe 20% attractive and 80% repulsive, but 100% weird!))
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