Category: Arts and Crafts

Mexico’s Rebozo (Shawl), Witness to Life :: El Rebozo Mexicano, Testigo a la Vida

Young girl from Oaxaca, wrapped in her rebozo (a long rectangular shawl). Photo courtesy my friend, the photographer Carlos Esteban Medina Sánchez.

A friend recently gave me a copy of an old and anonymous Mexican poem, written in Spanish, in homage to the rebozo. The rebozo's importance to Mexican women cannot be exaggerated: from swaddled infancy to shrouded death, a rebozo accompanies our women throughout their days. It is at once warmth, shade, infant's cradle, cargo-bearer, fancy dress, screen for delicious flirtation, and a sanctuary from prying eyes.

Enjoy my translation.

Michoacán-made rebozos and guitar, on exhibit in Morelia. Note the elaborate fringes on both rebozos. The traditional Purépecha indigenous rebozo is striped dark blue, black, and white. Legend says that in this typical Michoacán rebozo, the blue is the blue of the Spanish eye, the black is the black of the Spanish hair, and the white is the ray of the sun. All photos by Mexico Cooks! unless otherwise mentioned.

My Rebozo

Rummaging through my closet one fine day
I found this garment—my old rebozo!
How long had it been resting there?
Even I can’t say exactly.
But seeing it brought back so many memories
Tears clouded my eyes and fell one by one as I held
My beloved rebozo!

Rebozos made in Tenancingo, in the State of Mexico and exhibited in Coyoacán, Mexico City, several years ago.

What a faithful friend you have been.
Shall we relive just an instant of that far-distant past?
When I first showed you off, you were so beautiful, so new,
With your lively color and flowing fringe
Your reflection gleamed in the mirror like the morning star!

Dear friends Adán Paredes and Diana Miller during their February 2015 Zapotec wedding, wrapped together in a rebozo to symbolize their unity.

Come on, come on, let me fling you over my heart
The way I did in bygone years,
Next to this heart that disappointment has turned to ash!
Don’t you remember that beautiful blouse I wore,
Embroidered with poppies and carnations?
Don’t you remember all my triumphs and successes,
And my flounced skirt, so full of its pretty sequins, beads, and glitter?

Lavender and white rebozo with elaborate fringe. Made by the Aranza, Michoacán, Weaver's Cooperative.

See, tightened to the span of my narrow waist and
Crossed just so over my straight young back
Showing off my fresh round breasts,
With two vertical parallel lines.
We stepped out to the beat of those long-ago songs,
That dance that determined my life.
Your fringes hung down just so!
And the two of us formed one soul.

Finely woven black and red Michoacán rebozo.

How was it that I wanted him? You know!
Rebozo, you heard first how I loved him!
Your fringes were hopeful prisoners of my teeth
While I heard the soft slow songs of love
Oh perverse rebozo, unfaithful friend!
You were my confidante and my hiding place
You pushed me, burning, into romance
Wrapped in your fringes as if they were cherished arms.

Intricately patterned deep red rebozo.

But what’s this I see!
An ugly hole
That looks like a toothless mouth
Bursting out into furious laughter.
You laugh at my romantic memories?
You make fun of my long gone triumphs?
You know that the one who loved me has forgotten me
And that my soul, just like my love, is sacked and plundered?

Purépecha woman in the typical indigenous rebozo of Cherán, Michoacán. She's selling flor de calabaza (squash flowers).

And you—you aren’t even a shadow of what you were
And because we don’t remember what we have been
We are betrayed! Old! Faded!
I’ll throw you in a box with other trash—
You, who are a traitor and so worn out!
How strange and how complicated
Just like you, I also betrayed—sometimes–in little ways!
Those sweet lies and silly nonsense
That made so many of my yesterdays happy.

White and black rebozo fringed with feathers.

Laugh, rebozo! Don’t you see that I’m laughing–not angry?
The tears that spring from these eyes
Are just laughter, nothing more. I’m not crying, I’m laughing!
But how can I be laughing, when I hate you so?
Let your mantel cover my head
The way it did in days long past, when I was possessed
By a kiss so strong, so violent.

Gold and salmon rebozo de gala (fancy dress).

No! I will not throw you away, old rebozo!
You have a soul like mine
A Mexican woman's soul, wild, unmanageable
That will not bend even when faced with death itself!
I will fold you up and keep you in the closet
And there, like a holy relic,
My heart will once again put on
Your flowing fringe.

Purépecha mother and daughter in their finest clothing, including the typical indigenous rebozo from Michoacán. Paracho, Michoacán, 2009.

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20 de June de 2020
Noche de Muertos in the Heart of Michoacán

Remember me as you pass by,
As you are now, so once was I.
As I am now, so you will be,
Prepare for death and follow me.
…from a tombstone

What is death? We know its first symptoms: the heart stops pumping, breath and brain activity stop. We know death's look and feel: a still, cold body from which the spirit has fled. The orphan and widow know death's sorrow, the priest knows the liturgy of the departed and the prayers to assuage the pain of those left to mourn. But in most English-speaking countries, death and the living are not friends. We the living look away from our mortality, we talk of the terminally ill in terms of 'if anything happens', not 'when she dies'. We hang the crepe, we cover the mirrors, we say the beads, and some of us fling ourselves sobbing upon the carefully disguised casket as it is lowered into the Astroturf-lined grave.

Octavio Paz, Mexico City's Nobel Laureate poet and essayist who died in 1998, is famously quoted as saying, "In New York, Paris, and London, the word death is never mentioned, because it burns the lips."

Tzintzuntzan, Michoacán panteón (cemetery), Mexico Cooks! photo. These fellows sing to la Descarnada (the fleshless woman) on November 2, 2009.

In Mexico, on the contrary, every day is a dance with death. Death is a woman who has numerous affectionate and humorous nicknames: la Huesuda (the bony woman), la Seria (the serious woman), la Novia Fiel (the faithful bride), la Igualadora (the equalizer), la Dientona (the toothy woman), la Pelona (the bald woman), la Patrona (the boss lady), and a hundred more. She's always here, just around the next corner or maybe right over there, behind that pillar. She waits with patience, until later today or until twelve o'clock next Thursday, or until sometime next year–but when it's your time to go, she's right there, ready to dance away with you at her side.

November 2013 altar to La Santa Muerte (Holy Death), Sta. Ana Chapirito (near Pátzcuaro), Michoacán. Devotees of this deathly apparition say that her cult has existed since before the Spanish arrived in Mexico.

In Mexico, death is also in the midst of life. We see our dead, alive as you and me, each November, when we wait at our cemeteries for those who have gone before to come home, if only for a night. That, in a nutshell, is Noche de Muertos: the Night of the Dead.

In the lower center portion of this photograph, you can see the Quiroga, Michoacán, panteón municipal (town cemetery). Late in the afternoon of November 1, 2013, most townspeople had not yet gone to the cemetery with candles and flowers for their loved ones' graves. Click on any photograph for a larger view.

Over the course of the last nearly 40 years, Mexico Cooks! has been to countless Noche de Muertos events, but none as mystical, as spiritual, or as profoundly magical as that of 2013. Invited to accompany a very small group on a private tour in Michoacán, I looked forward to spending three days enjoying the company of old and new friends. I did all that, plus I came away with an extraordinarily privileged view of life and death.

A magnificent Purépecha ofrenda (in this case, an altar in the home of beloved friends) in the village of Santa Fe de la Laguna, Michoacán. This detailed and lovely ofrenda was created to the memory of the family's maiden aunt, who died at 74. Because she had never married, even at her advanced age she was considered to be an angelito (little angel)–like an innocent child–and her spirit was called back home to the family on November 1, the day of the angelitos. In Santa Fe de la Laguna, relatives, friends, and neighbors who arrive at the house to pay homage to a deceased person bring fresh fruit to place at the foot of the altar. This altar filled an entire room of my friends' home. Be sure to click on the photo to see the details of the altar. Fruits, breads, incense, salt, flowers, colors, and candles have particular symbolism and are necessary parts of the ofrenda.

Detail of the ofrenda casera (home altar) shown above. The altar included her favorite rebozo (shawl), placed just above her photograph. Several local people told Mexico Cooks! that the fruit piled on the altar tasted different from fruit from the same source that had not been used for the ofrenda. "Compramos por ejemplo plátanos y pusimos unos en el altar y otros en la cocina para comer. Ya para el día siguiente, los del altar pierden su sabor, no saben a nada," they said. 'We bought bananas, for example, and we put some on the ofrenda, and we put the rest in the kitchen to eat. The next day, the ones in the kitchen were perfectly normal, but the ones from the altar had no taste at all.'

Preparing a family member's ofrenda (altar) in the camposanto in a tiny village in Michoacán. The camposanto–literally, holy ground–is a cemetery contained within the walls of a churchyard. The candles used in this area of Michoacán are hand made in Ihuatzio and Santa Fe de la Laguna.

Come with me along the unlit road that skirts the Lago de Pátzcuaro: Lake Pátzcuaro. It's chilly, the puddles splash up as we drive, and the roadside weeds are damp with earlier rain, but for the moment the sky has cleared and filled with stars. Up the hill on the right and down the slope leading left toward the lake are tiny villages, dark but for the glow of tall candles lit one by one in the cemeteries. Tonight is November 1, the night silent souls wend their way home from Mictlán, the land beyond life.

At the grave: candlelight to illuminate the soul's way, cempazúchitl (deeply orange marigolds) for their distinctive fragrance required to open the path back home, smoldering copal (frankincense) to cleanse the earth and air of any remnants of evil, covered baskets of the deceased's favorite foods. And a low painted chair, where the living can rest through the night.

Watching through the night. This tumba (grave) refused to be photographed head-on. From an oblique angle, the tumba allowed its likeness to be made.

"Oh grave, where is thy victory? Oh death, where is thy sting?"

Noche de Muertos is not a costume party, although you may see it portrayed as such in the press. It is not a drunken brawl, although certain towns appear to welcome that sort of blast-of-banda-music reventón (big blow-out). It is not a tourist event, though strangers are certainly welcomed to these cemeteries. Noche de Muertos is a celebration of the spirit's life over the body's death, a festival of remembrance, a solemn passover. Years ago, in an interview published in the New York Times, Mexico Cooks! said, "Noche de Muertos is about mutual nostalgia. The living remember the dead, and the dead remember the taste of home."

One by one, grave by grave, golden cempazúchitles give shape to rock-bound tombs and long candles give light to what was a dark and lonely place, transforming the cemetery into a glowing garden. How could a soul resist this setting in its honor?

"Our hearts remember…" we promise the dead. Church bells toll slowly throughout the night, calling souls home with their distinctive clamor (death knell). Come…come home. Come…come home.

Waiting. Memories. Prayers. No te olvido, mi viejo amado. (I haven't forgotten you, my beloved old man.)

Next year, come with me.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here to see new information: Tours

2 de November de 2019
Day and Night of the Dead, Mexico :: More Cultural Aspects

Night of the Dead (Noche de Muertos) grave decoration for a young man who died in a bicycle accident. The bicycle is life-size. Seen in the Panteón Municipal (town cemetery), Tzintzuntzan, Michoacán.

Several weeks ago Paco (a friend from Michoacán) and I were talking about differences in cultural attitudes among citizens of Canada, the United States, and Mexico. We ended by discussing the Noche de Muertos (Night of the Dead) customs here in Mexico.

Paco told me that before the Spanish conquerors, Mesoamerican natives considered death to just be a simple step toward a new life. Life was a circle: time before birth, time here on earth, time after death constituted a continuum with no end, like a golden ring on a finger. Communication between the spirit life of the living and the dead was an ordinary experience.

With the arrival of the Spanish and their Christian beliefs, the indigenous people were taught new ideas. Thoughts of death produced terror: in the final judgment, the just would receive their reward, and sinners would receive their punishment. The difficulty lay in not being counted among the sinners.

The original pre-Hispanic remembrance celebration of the dead took place during the Aztec calendar month dedicated to Mictecacihuatl, the goddess of the dead. That month of the Aztec calendar corresponds to present-day July and the beginning of August. Post-conquest Spanish priests moved the celebration to coincide with the eve of All Souls Day, which falls on November 2. It was a useless attempt to change what the Spaniards regarded as a profane New World festivity of mumbo-jumbo into a Christian solemn occasion. The modern day result is a festival characterized by a mix of pre-hispanic and Catholic rituals—a purely Mexican event.

In the late 1800's, José Guadalupe Posada popularized the notion of death partying through life.

Today in Mexico, death is played with, made fun of, and partied with. We throw our arms around it in a wickedly sardonic embrace and escape its return embrace with a side-step, a wink, and a joke.

Noche de Muertos (Night of the Dead) is celebrated during the chilly night of November 1, ending in the misty dawn hours of November 2. For Mexicans, the celebration represents something more than maudlin veneration of their dead relatives. The celebrations of Memorial Day in the United States or Remembrance Day in Canada are all too frequently devoted to a fleeting moment's thought of those who have gone before, with the rest of the day passed in picnicking and the anticipation of the soon-to-arrive summer holidays. In many parts of Mexico, the living spend the entire night in communion with the faithful departed, telling stories, swapping jokes, wiping away a tear or two.

Sugar hatchling chicks and funny spotted cows, ready for use on your ofrenda (altar) commemorating a deceased loved one.

The idea that death is found in the midst of life (and life in the midst of death) has given rise to different manifestations of extraordinary and original expressions of popular art in Mexico. Among those are the custom of making and decorating sugar skulls (often with the name of a friend or relative written across the forehead), pan de muertos (bread of the dead), drawings in which much fun is poked at death, and calaveras, verses in which living and dead personalities—usually celebrities in the arts, sciences and especially in politics—are skewered by their own most glaring traits and defects. We wait impatiently for the newspapers to give us the most hilarious of the annual poems.

Traditionally, ofrendas (personalized altars) are prepared in the home in honor of one or more deceased family members. The altar is prepared with the deceased person's favorite foods, photographs, and symbolic flowers. Traditions vary from community to community.

In Michoacán, the altar may be decorated with special breads and bananas. In Oaxaca, other foods and fruits are used. It's most common to decorate an altar with hot pink and deep purple papel picado (cut tissue paper) as well as with foods, flowers, and personal objects important to the deceased.

In many places, public ofrendas are set up in the town square, the local Casa de la Cultura, or in shops. Many public altars honor national heroes, personalities from the arts, and little-known friends or well-known public figures.

We use bottles of beer or tequila or another of the dead person's favorite drinks, a packet of cigarettes or a cigar, a prayer card featuring the deceased's name-saint and another of the apparition of the Virgin to whom the deceased was particularly devoted.

Foods on the altar can include a dish filled with mole poblano or other festive food that the deceased enjoyed in life, a pot of frijoles de la olla (freshly cooked beans), platters of tamales, pan dulce (sweet bread), and piles of newly harvested corn, pears, oranges, limes, and any other bounty from the family's fields or garden. The purpose of the offerings is not to flatter and honor to the dead, but rather to share the joy and power of the year's abundance with him or her.

Dolls made of cartón (cardboard) are usually sold at special markets specifically devoted to Day of the Dead items. The cempasúchil (gold flowers) and the flower known by several names: cordón del obispo or pata de león or even terciopelo (bishop's belt, lion's paw, or velveteen, the magenta flowers) adorn most graves and ofrendas (altars honoring the deceased).

In Michoacán, wild orchids are in season and blooming; these too are often used to decorate graves. Photo courtesy El Mural.

Approximately 75% of the literally millions of Mexican cempasúchil flowers used for Day of the Dead are grown in the state of Puebla.

The fresh flower most commonly used everywhere in Mexico to decorate both home altars and at the cemetery is the cempasúchil, a type of marigold. According to my friend Francisco, the cempasúchil represents reverence for the dead. Wild mountain orchids, in abundant bloom at this time of year and cut especially for the Noche de Muertos, signify reverence toward God. Dahlias, the floral symbol of Mexico, are also used profusely on both home altars and in cemeteries. In addition, huge standing coronas (wreaths) of colorful ribbons and artificial flowers adorned with lithographs of saints, various manifestations of the Virgin Mary, or Jesus are used more and more frequently in Mexican cemeteries.

Because the social atmosphere of this celebration is so warm and so colorful—and due to the abundance of food, drink, and good company—the commemoration of Noche de Muertos is much loved by the majority of those who observe it. In spite of the openly fatalistic attitude exhibited by all participants, the celebration is filled with life and is a social ritual of the highest importance. Recognition of the cycle of life and death reminds everyone of his or her mortality.

Catrines, in this case clay figures of well-dressed skeletons, represent the vanity of life and the inescapable reality of death.

On the day of November 1 (and frequently for several days before) families all over Mexico go to the cemetery to clean and decorate the graves of their loved ones. With machetes, brooms, shears, hoes, buckets, metal scrapers and paint, the living set to work to do what needs to be done to leave the grave site spotless.

Is the iron fence around the plot rusty? Scrape it and paint it till it looks brand new. Are there overgrown weeds or bushes? Chop them out, cut them back. Have dead leaves and grass collected at the headstone? Now is the time to sweep them all out. There is usually much lamenting that the grave site has been allowed to deteriorate so much throughout the year—this year we won't let that happen again, will we?

Sugar skulls are a Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) tradition in Mexico. Buy one and have the name of your friend written on the forehead with stiff sugary icing. Your friend will be delighted with the gift.

In many places, November 1 is celebrated as the Day of los Inocentes or Angelitos (the Innocents, or Little Angels)—the little children who have died. In Michoacán on the Day of the Little Angels, the baptismal godparents are responsible for bringing a wooden frame for the flowers, for bringing the cempasúchil and the wild orchids. The godparents bring sugar angels or animals similar to the sugar skulls. They may also bring new clothing for the dead child, and a new toy or two. At the parents' home, preparation of food and drink is underway so that family and friends may be served. Cohetes (booming sky rockets) announce that the procession, singing and praying, is proceeding to the cemetery.

In the late evening of November 1, girls and women arrive at the graves of adults with baskets and bundles and huge clay casseroles filled with the favorite foods of the deceased. A bottle or two of brandy or tequila shows up under someone's arm. Someone else brings a radio and wires it up to play.

Watch a bit of the tradition: Day of the Dead in Mexico

A tiny sugar skeleton band, made in Michoacán for the Noche de Muertos.

In another part of the cemetery, a band appears to help make the moments spent in the cemetery more joyful and to play the dead relatives' favorite songs. Sometimes families and friends adjourn to a nearby home to continue the party. There's even a celebrated dicho (saying) that addresses the need for this fiesta: "El muerto al cajón y el vivo al fiestón." (The dead to the coffin and the living to the big blowout.")

The shimmering lake is made of flower petals!

Although the traditional observance of Noche de Muertos calls for a banquet either at the cemetery or at home during the pre-dawn hours of November 2, families in the large urban areas of Mexico City, Monterrey, Guadalajara, and others, families may simply observe the Day of the Dead rather than spend the night in a cemetery.

Their observance is frequently limited to a special family dinner which includes pan de muertos (bread of the dead). In some areas of the country, it's considered good luck to be the person who bites down on the toy plastic skeleton hidden by the bakery in each round loaf.

A small nicho (shadow box) by artisan Miguel Paredes, representing a Day of the Dead taco stand. An excellent place to buy this kind of nicho is Bazar Sábado in the San Ángel neighborhood of Mexico City. The outdoor and indoor market there is open every Saturday, and these little boxes are available year 'round.

Friends and members of the family give one another little gifts which can include tiny clay skeletons dressed in clothing or set in scenes which represent the occupations or personality characteristics of the receiver. The gift that's most appreciated is a calavera (sugar skull), decorated with sugar flowers, sparkling sequins, and the name of the recipient written in frosting across the cranium.

The pre-Hispanic concept of death as an energy link, as a germ of life, may very well explain how the skull came to be a symbol of death. That symbol has been recreated and assimilated in all aspects of Mexican life. The word calavera can also refer to a person whose existence is dedicated to pleasure—someone who does not take life seriously. The mocking poems of this season, the caricatures drawn with piercingly funny accuracy, the sugar skulls joyfully eaten by the person whose name they carry: all of these are an echo of pre-Hispanic thought, inherited by present-day Mexico.

From Guanajato: skeletal figures made of cartón (cardboard).

This tradition which recognizes that death is a part of the circle of life brings ease and rest to the living. Hearts heal, souls reaffirm their connections. Though beyond our view, the dead are never beyond our memories. Every November 1, the dead come home, if only for the night.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.

26 de October de 2019
Día y Noche de los Muertos en México: Day and Night of the Dead in Mexico :: A Preview of Customs

Highly decorated, very large cartonería (cardboard) skull for Noche de Muertos. One of these might be placed on a home ofrenda (altar) dedicated to the person of one's choice.

Panteón Municipal (Municipal Cemetery), Tzintzuntzan, Michoacán. In recent years, grave decoration has included traditional flowers, candles, and modern plastic wreaths, all of which you see in this photo. The white flowers in cans are nube (babies' breath) and clavel (carnations); the gold flowers are cempasúchil, and the wine-colored flowers are pata de león (cockscomb), all traditional. The wreaths are plastic flowers.

Mexico Cooks! will be touring Morelia and surrounding areas again during this special time of year. We'll be attending one or another special Noche de Muertos event every day for an entire week. Traditional ofrendas (altars dedicated to the dead), spectacular crafts exhibits, concerts, and annual concursos (contests) will fill our days and nights. Known in most parts of Mexico as Día de los Muertos (the Day of the Dead), here in Michoacán we call it Noche de los Muertos (Night of the Dead). By either name, the festival as it's celebrated in Mexico is unique in the world.

These four-inch-long skeletal figures, laid out on their petates (woven reed mats), are hooked up to intravenous bottles of either beer or tequila! They are given as gifts or added to a loved one's home ofrenda.

Tiny sugar footwear, in styles from baby booties to high-heeled pumps, are ready to be given as gifts to special friends or for placement on an ofrenda.

Mexico celebrates death as it celebrates life, with extreme enjoyment in the simplest things. Life and death are both honored and natural states.

The home ofrenda (altar) may memorialize a cherished relative, a political figure (either reviled or beloved), a pet, or a figure from the entertainment world. Traditional decorations include cempasúchil (marigold) and cordón del obispo (cockscomb) flowers, which are used in profusion in churches, cemeteries, and homes. Here in central Michoacán, wild orchids, blooming at this time of year, are also used to decorate graves, primarily in rural areas.

Sugar skulls are often inscribed in icing with a living friend's name and given to that person as a small token of admiration.

In October 2010, Chepo, my long-time cat companion, died. For Noche de Muertos, I created this ofrenda in his honor. It includes his favorite cat food (bottom left corner), his favorite toy (that little white pipe cleaner spring at the bottom right corner), candles, a sugar mouse, and a sugar fish, several photos of him, a big sugar cat between the photos, a large butterfly in remembrance of the many enormous dark-brown moths that he caught and delivered to me, and his ashes, in the wooden box at center. Click on the photo to enlarge it for a better view.

Relatives take favorite foods and beverages to the grave of a loved one gone before. It's said that the dead partake of the spirit of the food, while the living enjoy the physical treats at the cemetery. Mexican friends tell me, "In the morning, after our night-long vigil at the cemetery, we do eat the food that has been on the grave all night, waiting for our relatives to return from the más allá (the great beyond). The funny thing is that the food has no taste at all; our deceased relatives have eaten all the flavor–the flavor of home."

Pan de muertos (bread of the dead) is typically decorated with bone-shaped bread and sprinkled with sugar. The bread itself is flavored with orange and anise. In Michoacán, pan de muertos in the shape of human beings is often hung on ofrendas both in a private home or in a cemetery.

This miniature ofrenda (altar) is filled with tiny representations of treats that the deceased loved in life. Click on any photo for a larger view.

Several years ago, an article in the New York Times quoted Mexico Cooks! about the Noche de los Muertos: "There's a mutual nostalgia. The living remember the dead, and the dead remember the taste of home." That nostalgia imbues the cities and villages of Michoacán at this time of year just as surely as do woodsmoke and the scent of toasting tortillas.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours. And be sure to book your Mexico Cooks! 2020 Dia/Noche de los Muertos tour as soon as possible! We'll reserve space for you and your group to make sure you don't miss anything!

19 de October de 2019
GIANT ALEBRIJES In Mexico City’s Streets :: The Stuff of Dreams

This article, originally published in 2011, is well worth repeating today. The 12th annual Desfile de Alebrijes Monumentales (Giant Alebrijes Parade) will take place on October 20, 2018, starting at 12:00 noon. This year's parade expects more than 200 entries; it will kick off at the Zócalo in Mexico City's Centro Histórico and wend its way through downtown until it arrives on Paseo de la Reforma, ending at the Ángel de la Independencia. If you'll be in Mexico City, don't miss it!

Mexico City's iconic Ángel de la Independencia, nearly 43 meters high (that's 140 feet, for you who are metrically-challenged) is known all over the Distrito Federal simply as 'El Ángel'. Need a place to meet your friends to head for the Zona Rosa? "Nos vemos en el Ángel a las once…" ('see you at the Angel at eleven o'clock…'). For a good idea of the size of just the Ángel, look at the man standing near the right-hand corner of the railing–and consider that the platform is very, very high up on the column!

The fifth annual exhibit of alebrijes monumentales (monumentally-sized alebrijes) started just at the Ángel, in October 2011. This one is called Hipnóptera.

Very much in the style of Pedro Linares, this giant and quite happy alebrije exhibited along Paseo de la Reforma is called Pedrito (little Pedro). No fear–in spite of his sharp teeth, he won't bite!

The alebrije, created originally by 20th century Mexico City papel maché (paper maché) artisan don Pedro Linares, has become part of Mexico's mythology. If the creatures appear to be the stuff of nightmares, they in fact are just that: in the mid-1930s, sick and hallucinating with a high fever, Linares dreamed that these fantastical creatures surrounded him and heard them calling out their hitherto nonsense-syllable name: alebrijes, alebrijes, alebrijes. When his health improved, he began making the figures in his media, paper maché and cardboard.

This towering two-headed, four-armed creature with wings is called Pescando Soles. I spoke to the man standing at the right of the photo; he is close to six feet tall. That should give you an idea of the size of this giant.

Artist Mireya Carrera Bolaños smiles for the camera in front of her creation called Pescando Soles, which won an honorable mention in the competition.

Even though Sr. Linares originated the genre of alebrijes based on his fevered dreams, and even though his family continues to produce them in Mexico City, the alebrije name has passed into common usage for any fantastical creature made in the Linares style or a style that is similar. In Mexico City and the surrounding area, most alebrijes are made of paper maché and cardboard; this work is called cartonería. However, in the state of Oaxaca (and most famously by the artisan workshop headed by Jacobo and María Ángeles in the town of San Martín Tilcajete), alebrijes are carved from copal wood and are made in the shape of animals, both realistic and mythical. Each genre is very different from the other.

Ponte Almeja, a horned devil figure, sports a green tail covered with pre-Hispanic symbols.

The alebrijes exhibit started on a Sunday, which is always family day on Paseo de la Reforma. Every Sunday the divided wide boulevard is closed to all motorized traffic and is taken over by throngs of bicycles, tricycles, scooters, runners, walkers, children, and stroller-pushing parents. Vendors–of everything from food, toys, lucha libre masks (Mexican-style wrestling), bubble machines, pink and lavender cotton candy, and other non-essentials–line the sidewalks on both sides of Reforma.

Lucha libre mask vendor. You only wish it were Mexico Cooks! behind that marvelous mask!

This artist crafted a stack of monumentally-sized paper maché books between the feet of his giant alebrije. The title of the blue book in the middle of the stack is "Como Hacer Un Alebrije Monumental en Dos Semanas" ("How to Make a Monumental Alebrije in Two Weeks").

A toothy paper maché smile. This one looks much fiercer than Pedrito!

This wildly colorful dragon called Michtic (Gracioso) has its tail in its mouth, ready to go for a spin.

The head of the Ecofloon–part giraffe, part reindeer, part bird-beak, and 100% alebrije.

P-ezme Pezcadilla. The invented names of the creatures are as fanciful as their paint jobs.

Detail of paper maché bolitas (little balls) and wonderful design.

I've got my eye on you…

The end of the three-block exhibition of alebrijes: the fountain and glorieta (traffic circle) of Diana la Cazadora (Diana the Huntress). Click to enlarge the photo for a better view of her with her bow and arrow. In the background, the Hotel St. Regis.

After the weekend-long alebrijes exhibition along Paseo de la Reforma, the figures were trundled over to Mexico City's Centro Hístorico for a week in the Zócalo (central plaza), a fittingly monumental site for the 2011 crop of monumental alebrijes. We can hardly wait till the 2012 exhibit–come join us!

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6 de October de 2018
‘Tis The Season :: Chiles en Nogada, Available Now In Mexico’s Homes and Restaurants
Beautifully home-prepared chiles en nogada, as presented several years ago at a traditional food exhibition in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán.

Freshly harvested and peeled nuez de castilla (walnuts), an essential for seasonal chiles en nogada.

Mexico celebrates its independence the entire month of September with parades, parties, and traditional food and drink, served in restaurants and at home. The traditional festive dish during the weeks just before and after the Independence Day holiday is chiles en nogada, a magnificent tribute to the seasonal availability of a certain kind of peach, the locally grown panochera apple, in-season granadas (pomegranates) and nuez de castilla (freshly harvested walnuts). From mid-July until early October, seasonal local fruits, fresh pomegranates, and newly harvested walnuts make chiles en nogada possible. Mildly spicy chiles poblano, stuffed with picadillo and topped with richly creamy walnut sauce and pomegranate seeds, flaunt the brilliant green, white and red of the Mexican flag.

The panochera apple, grown in the Mexican state of Puebla, and pera lechera (milky pear), also grown in the area, are two must-have ingredients for making chiles en nogada in Mexico. If you live outside Mexico, a small crisp apple and a very crisp pear (Bosque or d'Anjou) would substitute.

This festive dish is traditionally served on September 15 or 16 in honor of Mexico's Independence Day, though it is popular anytime in the late summer and fall. During August and September in the highlands of Mexico, particularly in Mexico City and Puebla, vendors wander tianguis (street markets) and other markets, selling the clean, white meats of nuez de castilla. It is important to use the freshest walnuts possible, as they produce such a creamy, rich sauce that it is worth the effort to buy them peeled or peel them oneself. Yes, the recipe is time-consuming…but you and your guests will jump up and shout "VIVA!" when they've licked the platters clean.

Ingredients

For the meat:
- 2 pounds beef brisket or other stew meat or 1 pound beef and 1 pound pork butt**
- 1 small white onion, quartered
- 2 large cloves garlic
- about 1 Tbsp sea salt
For the picadillo (filling):
- 4 Tbsp safflower or canola oil
- the shredded meat
- 1/3 cup chopped white onion
- 3 large cloves garlic, minced
- 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
- 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
- 1/8 tsp ground cloves
- pinch pimienta gorda (allspice)
- 1/2 plátano macho (plantain), chopped fine
- 1 or 2 chiles serrano, finely minced
- 4 Tbsp chopped fresh walnuts
- 4 Tbsp slivered blanched almonds
- 2 Tbsp finely diced biznaga (candied cactus, optional)
- 1 fresh pear, peeled and chopped
- 1 apple, peeled and chopped
- 4 ripe peaches, peeled and diced
- 3 Tbsp Mexican pink pine nuts. Don't substitute white if you aren't able to find pink. White pine nuts have a bitter aftertaste.
- 3 large, ripe tomatoes, roasted, peeled and chopped
- sea salt to taste
Fully mature chiles poblano, picked fresh and sold on the street in Tehuacán, Puebla.

Deep green chiles poblano are normally used for chiles en nogada. These measure as much as seven inches long. If you click on the photo to make it larger, you can see that these chiles have deep, long grooves running down their sides. When I'm buying them, I choose chiles poblano that are as smooth as possible on their flat sides. The smoothness makes them easier to roast easily.

For the chiles:

–6 fresh chiles poblanos, roasted, peeled, slit open, and seeded, leaving the stem intact

For the nogada (walnut sauce):
- 1 cup freshly harvested nuez de castilla (walnuts), peeled of all brown membrane**
- 6 ounces queso de cabra (goat cheese), queso doble crema or standard cream cheese (not fat free) at room temperature
- 1-1/2 cups crema mexicana or 1-1/4 cups sour cream thinned with milk
- about 1/2 tsp sea salt or to taste
- 1 Tbsp sugar
- 1/8 tsp ground cinnamon
- 1/4 cup dry sherry (optional)
**Please note that this recipe is correctly made with walnuts, not pecans. Using pecans will give your sauce a non-traditional flavor and a beige color, rather than pure white.

Remove the arils (seeds) from a pomegranate. We who live in Mexico are fortunate to find pomegranate seeds ready to use, sold in plastic cups.

For the garnish

–1 Tbsp chopped flat-leaf parsley
–1/2 cup fresh pomegranate seeds

Preparation:

Cut the meat into large chunks, removing any excess fat. Place the meat into a large Dutch oven with the onion, garlic, and salt. Cover with cold water and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Skim off any foam that collects on the surface. Lower the heat and allow the water to simmer about 45 minutes, until the meat is just tender. Take the pot off the stove and let the meat cool in the broth. Remove the pieces of meat and finely shred them.

Candied biznaga (aka acitrón) cactus. Do try to find this ingredient in your local market. There isn't an adequate substitute, so if you don't find it, leave it out.

Mexican pink pine nuts. Their taste is sweeter than the standard white ones, and they leave no bitter aftertaste in your dish. If you can't find these pink pine nuts, it's better not to substitute the white ones.

Warm the oil in a large, heavy skillet and sauté the onion and garlic over medium heat until they turn a pale gold. Stir in the shredded meat and cook for five minutes. Add the cinnamon, pepper, and cloves, then, stir in the raisins and the two tablespoons of chopped walnuts. Add the chopped pear, apple, and finely diced biznaga cactus, and mix well. Add the tomatoes and salt to taste, and continue cooking over medium-high heat until most of the moisture has evaporated. Stir often so that the mixture doesn't stick. Let cool, cover, and set aside. The picadillo may be made and refrigerated a day or two in advance of final preparations.

Roasted chiles poblano, ready to peel, seed, and stuff. Photo courtesy Delicious Mexican Recipes.

Peel the chiles and make a slit down the side of each chile, just long enough to remove the seeds and veins. Keep the stem end intact. Drain the chiles, cut side down, on paper towels until completely dry. Cover and set aside. The chiles may be prepared a day in advance.

At least three hours in advance, put the walnuts in a small pan of boiling water. Remove from the heat and let them sit for five minutes. Drain the nuts and, when cool, rub off as much of the dark skin as possible. Chop the nuts into small pieces. Place the nuts, cream cheese, crema, and salt in a blender and purée thoroughly. Stir in the optional sugar, cinnamon, and sherry until thoroughly combined. Chill for several hours.

Preheat the oven to 250ºF. When ready to serve, reheat the meat filling and stuff the chiles until they are plump and just barely closed. Put the filled chiles, covered, to warm slightly in the oven. After they are thoroughly heated, place the chiles (cut side down) on a serving platter or on individual plates, cover with the chilled walnut sauce, and sprinkle with the chopped parsley and pomegranate seeds.

Chile en nogada as served at Restaurante Azul Histórico, Mexico City.

Chile en nogada as served at Restaurante Las Quince Letras, Centro Histórico, Oaxaca.

This dish may be served at room temperature, or it may be served slightly chilled. It is rarely if ever served hot.

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18 de August de 2018
Bazar Sábado (Saturday Arts and Crafts Market) in San Ángel, Mexico City

Sun-and-shade dappled Plaza San Jacinto, Colonia San Ángel, in the southern part of Mexico City, hosts Bazar Sábado. Open only on Saturdays, the hours are 10:00AM until 7:00PM.

So many people who tour with me want to shop for high-quality small items to take home as souvenirs or as gifts for relatives and friends. The only place to go? Bazar Sábado, the huge artisans' market held every week in gorgeous Colonia San Ángel in the southern sector of Mexico City. The market includes both indoor and outdoor shops and booths. What's to be had? Just about anything!

These tenangos (hand-embroidered textiles) are made in the state of Guerrero. We saw full-size table cloths, napkins, table runners, and place mats. We bought a dozen or two fabric coasters hand-embroidered with birds, fish, and flowers.

Napkin rings to match any decorator's color combination.

Crowds at Bazar Sábado tend to be large and shoppers are fairly aggressive. Lots of tourists go: you'll hear Japanese, French, English, German, and a slew of other languages on the pathways of Plaza San Jacinto. Be prepared to spend a little more money than you might in some other markets, but the atmosphere and the enormous selection of goods will give you great stories to tell back home. Bazar Sábado is so well worth attending!

Wooden boxes, the tops decorated with icons ranging from the sacred to the profane. Frida Kahlo, Che Guevara, and Mexico's lucha libre (wrestling) stars are among the most popular secular images.

Children's toys made of wood. A million years ago, Mexico Cooks! knew these toys as Jacob's ladders. Remember the sound they make? Click, clack, click, clack, click, clack–now turn it over and start again.

While you're at Bazar Sábado, do go into Museo Casa Risco–at Plaza Jacinto #5–to see this glorious fountain. It's entirely made of old dish ware and shells and fills one entire wall. The building is off the beaten tourist path and definitely worth a look. The museum also has both permanent and temporary exhibits that you'll enjoy.

Woven straw soft baskets to match your napkin rings. These are perfect for serving bread at your dinner table. We loved them.

Mexico Cooks!' antique painted box from Olinalá, Guerrero may well have been sold originally at Bazar Sábado. Booths there still sell similar examples–new, of course.

Both on Plaza Jacinto you'll find restaurants and snacks of almost any kind, from this sort of traditional Mexican breakfast to pizza to a burger or even Chinese food.

Mira, los títeres! He's still young enough for the excitement of these simple fantasy-animal marionettes.

Maestro Enrique Segarra López, one of Mexico's most famous mid-20th Century photographers, holds court on Saturdays at his booth. It was always a joy to spend some time with him. He passed away a few years ago.

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4 de August de 2018
Juchitán, Capital of the Istmo of Tehuantepec

Typical public transportation in Juchitán de Zaragoza (also known as Juchitán de las Mujeres). These three-wheeled vehicles, some covered like this one and some open to the air, buzzed around everywhere in the city, taking people wherever they needed to go.

Our last day in the Istmo, chef Silvana hired a mototaxi driver to give us a tour around the area. Look at its wonderful roof–an old-fashioned fabric for just the right touch. We whipped along having a fantastic time, waving at pedestrians and being waved at, people laughing with us as we tooled along.

Juchitán, the largest city on the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, Oaxaca, (population about 100,000), prides itself on its culture and its traditions. The iconic statue at the entrance to town is based on a photograph taken by one of Mexico's most outstanding photographers, Graciela Iturbide. To quote the Getty Museum, "Between 1979 and 1988, Iturbide (b. 1942) made a series of visits to Juchitán, Mexico, where—in her words—she photographed the way of life there "in complicity with the people." Located in the state of Oaxaca, Juchitán is an ancient, communal, matriarchal society. It is also an open, fiercely independent, fiesta-loving city. Since the early twentieth century, the women of Juchitán—their dress and manner—have been national symbols, and Iturbide's photographs capture them in public and in private as they conduct their lives in this ancient city in the Isthmus of Tehuantepec."

The 1979 Iturbide photograph, called "Nuestra Señora de las Iguanas" ('Our Lady of the Iguanas'), shows the power and dignity of a Zapotec woman, who carries on her head live iguanas that form a bizarre crown.

In the Juchitán municipal market, we were talking about iguanas with a young muxe who sells ropa típica (regional clothing) of the area. He pointed across the aisle to a booth where the owner prepares licuados (smoothies, more or less) and lo and behold, we saw this big black iguana, tethered to a tree branch. It's the Ctenosaura similis, native to the region and the most common iguana found (and hunted for food) in the Istmo. In theory, the iguana is protected by law–but in practice, it and its eggs are much eaten in Mexico. The meat is truly delicious, I didn't care for the leathery eggs.

In the Juchitán market, a vendor offered iguana eggs, cooked in caldillo de jitomate (thin tomato broth) with green chiles. The eggs are about 1.5" long. I tried to eat one, but I really didn't like the texture or the flavor. Imagine that, something I didn't like!

We devoured several of these delicious fresh chiles jalapeño, roasted and stuffed with picadillo (a hash made of beef or pork plus chopped vegetables and fruits), then battered in beaten egg, fried, and served with delicious caldillo (thin tomato broth).

I've eaten various kinds of smoked fish–whitefish, salmon, and others in the USA, marlin in Mexico–but I had never seen smoked tuna until chef Silvana and I went to the Juchitán market. The vendor at this stand gave me a little chunk to taste. Out of this world! Smoked tuna, meaty and completely delicious, is now on my have-to-have-it-again list. This pile of tuna pieces was about 18" high.

Meet the Chrysobalanus icaco, a fruit endemic to the Istmo and known at least in Juchitán as jicaco–they're the rosy pink ones. One name for them in English is the cocoplum. As you can see in this week's photos, in Juchitán we saw several things that were brand new to us. The jicaco fruit is prepared as a tea to combat diarrhea, and people cook and grind the leaves and stems to combat dysentery. The seeds can be toasted and ground and prepared as an atole (thick drink usually served warm) to provoke vomiting. Chef Silvana and I ate part of one raw fruit; it isn't at all sweet, hasn't a lot of taste, and is very astringent and medicinal. It makes you pucker up and not in a good way!

Flower seller, Juchitán market. In this part of the Istmo, it's crucial to find and take advantage of shade wherever possible, and equally crucial to drink lots of water. The time in late April-early May that we were in the Istmo, the daily temperatures climbed to well above 100ºF, with 100% percent humidity. Thinking about climate change, I asked a young man in the market if this year's temperature and humidity were unusually high; he said, no, they were normal for the time of year.

We bought several necklaces made of plumeria flowers (aka frangipani) at the Juchitán market. The plant is named for French botanist Charles Plumier, who traveled to what is now Mexico and found it. Described by Charles Linnaeus in 1753, it's called flor de mayo (May flower) in the Istmo. I'd always thought it was native to Hawaii, but no: it's Mexican. In the market, we saw many young women wearing these necklaces, saints' images were draped with them, and the flowers' sweet fragrance wafted through the air.

The Juchitán market sets up every day on the streets, around a park and spread out to another close-by area as well. We peered into the back of the city's municipal building to see what remains of the market where it was set up in the past. Why? Close to midnight on September 7, 2017, an extremely strong earthquake (8.1 on the Richter scale, said to have been the heaviest Mexico earthquake in over 100 years), with its epicenter just off the coast of Oaxaca's neighboring state Chiapas, hit the Istmo. Juchitán, a city of well over 100,000 people, suffered severe damage, including to its municipal building.

Photo above: the municipal building in Juchitán, the morning after the September 7, 2018 earthquake.

We were deeply disturbed to see how little recovery has been possible, and we later learned that there is no plan to rebuild the municipal building. Its offices and the market have been relocated, the daily market now sets up outdoors, in a park near the destroyed building. Wherever we looked in the city, huge piles of rubble left from damaged or demolished buildings (homes and businesses alike) remained in the streets and on the sidewalks. People told us that there is no place to put the rubble, so it simply sits there, a constant reminder of the disaster. Many people told us that none of the funds collected by the government and by other agencies have reached them; people continue to live in the streets, some under tarps and some with nothing to protect them from either the intense heat or the intense nightly rains.

Just one of hundreds of destroyed homes and businesses in Juchitán.

Another. Of course Juchitán was not the only place seriously affected by the earthquake. All of the towns in the area show similar damage. You might well ask why few repairs have been made, why the funds collected and designated for direct assistance to the Istmo–estimated to be $45 million U.S. dollars–haven't been disbursed. The answer: government corruption. Sadly enough, it is all too common for donated funds to end up in someone's pocket rather than in the hands of those for whom it was destined. Should there be another devastation of this type anywhere in Mexico, please ask me about alternate ways to donate money so that it will actually get to those who need it.

Next week: a trip to several small towns in the Istmo. Despite the shock of seeing so much earthquake damage, we loved the rest of what we saw and did and want to share it with you. See you next week!

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30 de June de 2018
Witness to Life: The Rebozo in Mexico :: El Rebozo en México, Testigo de la Vida

Lovely young Agustina in her pink silk rebozo (long rectangular shawl).

A friend recently gave me a copy of an old and anonymous Mexican poem, written in Spanish, in homage to the rebozo. The rebozo's importance to Mexican women cannot be exaggerated: from swaddled infancy to shrouded death, a rebozo accompanies our women throughout their days. It is at once warmth, shade, infant's cradle, cargo-bearer, fancy dress, screen for delicious flirtation, and a sanctuary from prying eyes.

I hope you enjoy my translation.

Michoacán-made rebozos and guitar, on exhibit in Morelia. Note the elaborate fringes on both rebozos.

My Rebozo

Rummaging through my closet one fine day
I found this garment—my old rebozo!
How long had it been resting there?
Even I can’t say exactly.
But seeing it brought back so many memories
Tears clouded my eyes and fell one by one as I held
My beloved rebozo!

Mother and infant daughter wear matching rebozos, Fiesta de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, Morelia, Michoacán.

What a faithful friend you have been.
Shall we relive just an instant of that far-distant past?
When I first showed you off, you were so beautiful, so new,
With your lively color and flowing fringe
Your reflection gleamed in the mirror like the morning star!

Fine lace rebozo still on the loom, from the Reboceros de Aranza (Aranza Rebozo Weavers Cooperative), Aranza, Michoacán.

Come on, come on, let me fling you over my heart
The way I did in bygone years,
Next to this heart that disappointment has turned to ash!
Don’t you remember that beautiful blouse I wore,
Embroidered with poppies and carnations?
Don’t you remember all my triumphs and successes,
And my flounced skirt, so full of its pretty sequins, beads, and glitter?

Lavender and white rebozo with elaborate fringe.

See, tightened to the span of my narrow waist and
Crossed just so over my straight young back
Showing off my fresh round breasts,
With two vertical parallel lines.
We stepped out to the beat of those long-ago songs,
That dance that determined my life.
Your fringes hung down just so!
And the two of us formed one soul.

Finely woven black and red rebozo.

How was it that I wanted him? You know!
Rebozo, you heard first how I loved him!
Your fringes were hopeful prisoners of my teeth
While I heard the soft slow songs of love
Oh perverse rebozo, unfaithful friend!
You were my confidante and my hiding place
You pushed me, burning, into romance
Wrapped in your fringes as if they were cherished arms.

Intricately patterned deep red rebozo.

But what’s this I see!
An ugly hole
That looks like a toothless mouth
Bursting out into furious laughter.
You laugh at my romantic memories?
You make fun of my long gone triumphs?
You know that the one who loved me has forgotten me
And that my soul, just like my love, is sacked and plundered?

Two elderly women share a secret joke in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán.

And you—you aren’t even a shadow of what you were
And because we don’t remember what we have been
We are betrayed! Old! Faded!
I’ll throw you in a box with other trash—
You, who are a traitor and so worn out!
How strange and how complicated
Just like you, I also betrayed—sometimes–in little ways!
Those sweet lies and silly nonsense
That made so many of my yesterdays happy.

White and black rebozo fringed with feathers.

Laugh, rebozo! Don’t you see that I’m laughing–not angry?
The tears that spring from these eyes
Are just laughter, nothing more. I’m not crying, I’m laughing!
But how can I be laughing, when I hate you so?
Let your mantel cover my head
The way it did in days long past, when I was possessed
By a kiss so strong, so violent.

Gold and salmon rebozo de gala (fancy dress).

No! I will not throw you away, old rebozo!
You have a soul like mine
A Mexican woman's soul, wild, unmanageable
That will not bend even when faced with death itself!
I will fold you up and keep you in the closet
And there, like a holy relic,
My heart will once again put on
Your flowing fringe.

Elderly flower seller, Pátzcuaro, Michoacán.

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17 de March de 2018
Looking Back Through 2016, Part Two :: Una Mirada Hacia Atras 2016, Segunda Parte

Ceremonial tortillas from the state of Guanajuato, made only in the Otomí communities of that state as food for certain ritual occasions. These were served at Restaurante Azul Condesa during July 2016, when Guanajuato's cuisine was featured for the month at the restaurant. They became so deservedly popular that the restaurant has continued to offer them. The tortillas, made of nixtamalized corn masa (dough), are shaped, pressed, and cooked on one side on a comal (griddle). They are then flipped and stamped with a hand-carved wooden stamp that has been dipped in muicle, a liquid vegetable dye made from a wild plant.

In mid-July, it was my tremendous honor to host an evening in honor of Zarela Martínez (seated, center), who in 1987 opened Zarela, a Mexican restaurant that is credited as being a pioneer of regional Mexican cuisine in New York City. She is the author of several wonderful cookbooks, including Food from My Heart: Cuisines of Mexico Remembered and Reimagined (1995) (nominated for Best International Cookbook of the Year, James Beard Foundation); The Food and Life of Oaxaca: Traditional Recipes from Mexico's Heart (1997); and Zarela's Veracruz (2001). Some of the guests surrounding Zarela are: (seated) Celia Marín Chiunti and Rosa María Villareal; (standing from left) Rafael Mier, Marisa Zannie, Pedro Luis de Aguinaga, Mexico Cooks!, and Sonia Ortiz.

As a frequent visitor to a local tiradero (slang for flea market–literally, garbage dump), Mexico Cooks! has bought many wonderful old things for decorating the home place. This is not one of them. In August, a friend asked me to photograph this tableau of a javalí (wild boar) and rattlesnake for her nephew, a fan of taxidermy. One can buy anything from a silver ring to–well, a stuffed javalí–at this flea market.

I often go out looking for interesting graffiti, and almost always find something fun. This cat face, stenciled onto a wall close to my home, looks very much like Risa, my tortoiseshell kitten.

[youtube=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vtqVC3NaCLM&w=560&h=315]
An event in Mexico City at the end of August brought several cocineras tradicionales (traditional cooks) to visit from Michoacán. This woman spent most of the day pat-pat-patting truly hand-made tortillas to serve to the public along with home-style food. The gentle rhythm of her hands against the masa (corn dough) coupled with the laughter of other cooks made me feel like I was home again in Michoacán. Listen as she pats out the tortilla; imagine the smell of woodsmoke. Both are still iconic to rural Mexico.

This hard-working market bag advertises a butcher shop in Tehuacán, Puebla. No recap of the year 2016 could be complete without at least one mention of the life-changing weekend I spent in this south-central part of Mexico. Remember the Mexico Cooks! article about the cave where…well, re-read it here: Corn, An Ancient Gift from Mexico to Feed the World. Chills still run up the back of my neck when I think about gazing into this small hollow space, a shelter in the mountain.

Early September took us to the Palacio de Bellas Artes (Fine Arts Palace) in downtown Mexico City. The traditional music group Los Folkloristas celebrated its 50th anniversary here. A good friend is a member of the group and made certain that another friend and I had great seats, a couple of levels below the glorious stained-glass dome.

Sometimes a person can't help being ecstatic. Meeting Laura Esquivel (author of the extraordinary and ground-breaking Like Water for Chocolate, among other wonderful books) near the end of September was a real highlight of my year. She was part of the press conference for the MODO exhibition Del Plato a la Boca–the beautifully curated, kitchen-oriented show will be at the museum through February 2017. Don't miss it.

Mid-October took me to Toluca, in the State of Mexico, to see the Cosmovitral. The Cosmovitral is a beautiful stained glass-enclosed botanical garden. The group Aztec Explorers, which organizes mostly day tours for people new to Mexico City or the surrounding area, invited me to come along to see the kind of work they do. The tour company advertises primarily to people who live in or near Mexico City and want to make friends with others while enjoying an overview of sites they've heard about and want to see. If this sounds like a day that suits your style, you'll enjoy the inexpensive tours that Lilia and Peter give. By all means tell them Mexico Cooks! sent you.

Remember the gorgeous October 15, 2016 super moon? I took this shot with my cellular phone, from my bathroom window! Moon over Mexico City, a lucky shot indeed.

For November 2, Día de Los Muertos, Mexico Cooks! took a small group of tourists to that flea market I mentioned above–no taxidermy this time, though. Alfredo Vilchis Roque, who is proclaimed as "the Da Vinci of the market", built an altar for Day of the Dead 2016. Click on any of the photographs for a larger view. Sr. Vilchis, whose work has been exhibited at the Louvre and is sold at a Paris gallery (among others), was generous enough to point out several fascinating aspects to the altar. Look, for example, just at knee level and in front of him: there's a tribute to Juan Gabriel, Mexico's world-famous singer and idol, who died on August 28, 2016.

November 17, 2016, marked the launch of a program called Salvemos el Maíz Palomero de México (Let's Save Mexican Popcorn). Part of the project for the preservation of Mexico's native corns in general as well as for the preservation of the tortilla made of nixtamalized corn, the popcorn event was particularly designed to bring the near-extinction of Mexico's original corn to the attention of the press. It was a tremendous success; even Aristegui Noticias, the foremost news in Mexico shown on CÑÑ (CNN in Spanish), picked up the story and broadcast it to the Spanish-speaking world. You'll be reading a lot more about this multi-faceted project in the weeks and months to come, right here at Mexico Cooks!.

Whatever your faith, may the New Year bless you with abundance in all things, especially joy and peace. From our house to yours, we wish you a blessed 2017.

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14 de January de 2017