Category: Games

Pastorela in Cuitzeo: The Best Christmas Play Ever
This article, originally published at Christmastime 2007, has been extremely popular every Christmas since then. We think you will enjoy this slightly updated version…

A Seattle Christmas pageant, circa 1953. Thanks, Sandy in Seattle!

My school put on a Christmas pageant when I was in the third grade, back in the days before the law specified generic holiday greetings. Remember way back then, how Joey and Jimmy, Ralphie and Bobby, were the shepherds in their father's striped terrycloth bathrobes, the sashes tied three or four times around their waists? Chuck got to be Joseph and that prissy little Linda Beth got to dress in blue and white as the Virgin Mary when everybody KNEW it should have been you up there nuzzling the Baby Jesus. Here's a sweet little reminder:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=clSUr9fLapY&w=320&h=240]

A 19th Century pastorela photograph showing Bartolo, the indolent shepherd who overslept and missed his chance to go to Bethlehem to see the Niño Dios (Christ Child).

In Mexico, a Christmas pageant, like almost everything, is different from Christmas plays North of the Border. Called a pastorela, the Mexican Christmas play is part very naughty topical comedy, part traditional drama, part Sunday school lesson, and 100% morality play. Pastorela means pastoral, or a play that takes place in the countryside, and concerns the activities of pastores, or shepherds. First introduced to Mexico by Franciscan missionaries in the 1500's, pastorelas continued to grow in favor here. Today, the plays are one of the most popular Christmastime entertainments. The theme portrays the eternal conflict between good and evil. The plot revolves around the pilgrimage of the shepherds to Bethlehem to see the newborn Niño Dios.

The devil is not ordinarily associated with Christmas. In Mexico, however, Satan plays a very solid role in the holiday festivities. He is actually the star! Lucifer works all his worst wiles to detour the shepherds away from their destination. Costumed as various alluring personages, Satan and his apprentice devils do their best to trick the shepherds into abandoning their journey to redemption. At the end, Satan is tricked, good triumphs, the shepherds meet the Holy Family, and all is well.

Several years ago, Mexico Cooks! spent a week or so looking for a pastorela to be presented at a time we could attend. One day I noticed an article in the newspaper about a pastorela that was being offered that very night in Cuitzeo, a small town about an hour north of Morelia. The title of the play (El Ermitaño.com: The Hermit.com) was intriguing, the photo of the performers in costume looked exciting, and the timing was right. I called my friend Bunny, who jumped at the chance to accompany me to the evening performance, and we were off to Cuitzeo.

Cuitzeo reached the status of Mexican Pueblo Mágico, the third in Michoacán, in 2006. The requirements for the Pueblo Mágico designation are:
- a town or city rich in tradition
- located in an area of high interest to tourists
- that it have a strong history
- that it have ready access from major highways
You'll see in this video that Cuitzeo easily meets Pueblo Mágico criteria.

Our pastorela took place outside, on the grounds of the Ex-Convento de Santa María Magdalena, a 16th Century Augustinian convent. We stopped first in the church to see the Christmas decorations.

Cuitzeo's 17th Century Virgin Mary wears a charming straw sombrero, carries a lace-trimmed basket, and rides a donkey as she and Joseph travel to Bethlehem.

The presentation of El Ermitaño.com, written by the wonderful contemporary Mexican playwright Miguel Sabido, was sponsored by Adopt a Work of Art, the Michoacán Secretary of Tourism, the Cuitzeo city government, the National Institute of Anthropology and History, and the newspaper La Voz de Michoacán. We discovered that this pastorela was not a simple country town's Christmas caprice. It is a sophisticated, professional play of great good humor.

According to Miguel Sabido, "The culture which distinguishes Mexico is both vast and rich, but it's composed of more than our country's admirable buildings. Mexico has its greatest patrimony in its popular rituals, and its recipes like the pinole cookies that are only made here in this region, and the pastorelas. These are Mexico's legacies and we must make a commitment to spread her traditions."

The pastorela characters mounted the stage dancing, singing, and rejoicing over the birth of the Niño Dios.

Adam and Eve were the first to take the devil's bait: Adam bit the apple and all hell broke loose.

Still singing, the shepherds, in typical indigenous Purhépecha dress, started their trip to Bethlehem.

El ermitaño (the hermit), portrayed as a post-elderly (think 200 years old) fellow, leads the shepherds (in this case, indigenous Purépecha from Michoacán) on the long trip to Bethlehem. The Archangel Michael warns them that they'll see the devil in the disguise of famous and fascinating people. When Satan begins to tempt the simple shepherds, they easily fall into his traps.

El ermitaño (the hermit) co-starred with Satan.

Famously rival Mexican soccer teams, a drunken debauch complete with Caribbean dancers in flounced skirts and turbans, and an angelic choir are all devils in disguise. In every encounter, Archangel Michael has to intervene to prod the shepherds on their way. Topical jokes ran wild, references to the famous and the infamous flew, and we loved it all.

Finally, Bethlehem! The Virgin Mary holds the Niño Dios as St. Joseph and the shepherds look on.

The pastorela story was typically good conquers evil, but what a production! Acted, danced, and sung by professionals, the morality play kept the crowd (packed into bleachers on two sides of the open stage) laughing, clapping, booing and hissing, and singing along with Mexico's treasured and iconic villancicos (Christmas carols).

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07FjX4R1d-s&w=350&h=263]
Listen to this lovely version of Los Peces en el Río. Can you hear the lyric 'la Virgen lava pañales'? It means 'the Virgin is washing diapers'!

Mexico Cooks! wishes everyone a very joyous New Year, filled with good health, great happiness, and many delights.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.
9 de January de 2016
Piñatas, Mexico’s Christmas Tradition

Huge piñatas at a Mexico City market.

Among clean ollas de barro (clay pots), plastic receptacles filled with engrudo (flour/water paste), and colorful, neatly stacked rounds of papel de china (tissue paper), Sra. María Dolores Hernández (affectionately known as Doña Lolita) sits on an upturned bucket. Her birthday is on December 24, and she still lights up–just like a Christmas tree–when she talks about her business and her life.

The last point of the star-shaped piñata is in Doña Lolita's hands, nearly ready to be glued into place.

"When I was a young woman, raising my family together with my husband, it was hard for us to make a good living here in Morelia. We had eight children (one has died, but six girls and a boy survive) and we struggled to make ends meet. My husband was a master mason, but I wanted to help out with the finances. I knew a woman who made piñatas, and I thought, 'I can do that.' So I started trying my hand, nearly 60 years ago."

Doña Lolita adds another layer of newspaper to this piñata in progress. "You can't put too much newspaper on the pot, because it will take too long to break," she explained. "And you can't put too little on it, either, because then the first child to hit it will break it. That's no good, either. You just have to know how much to use." Click on the photo to enlarge it and get a good look at the clay pot inside the paper maché.

"The woman who made piñatas wouldn't give away her secrets, so I had to figure everything out for myself. You should have seen me the first time I tried to make a bird's beak for a parrot-shaped piñata! A man I knew told me to make it out of chapopote (a kind of tar), so I did. It hardened all right, but later in the day the weather warmed up and that beak dripped down to here! What a mess! I finally figured out how to make the shape out of paper, but I just about broke my head thinking about it!"

Pre-cut rounds of papel de china (tissue paper) wait to be glued onto a piñata. The black plastic bag holds strips of newspaper.

Doña Lolita told me about the different grades of paper used to create different styles of decoration on the piñata, and she explained different kinds of paper-cutting techniques; she's absolutely the expert. Here, her son-in-law Fernando cuts tissue paper for fringe. His hands are so fast with the scissors it made my head spin; he can even cut without looking.

"In those days, the clay pots cost four and a half pesos for a gross–yes, for 144. In the old days, I usually sold about 7,000 piñatas every December, so you can imagine the investment I made just in clay pots. In the 1960s, I could sell a large piñata for seven pesos. Now–well, now the pots are much more expensive, so naturally the piñatas cost more, too. The large ones cost 45 pesos. This year, I'll sell about 1,000 piñatas just for the posadas. "

Piñatas in various stages of completion hang from every beam in Doña Lolita's tiny workshop.

"When my daughter Mercedes was about eight years old, she wanted to learn to make piñatas. She'd been watching me do it since she was born. So I taught her, and I've taught the whole family. Piñatería (making piñatas) is what's kept us going." Doña Lolita smiled hugely. "My children have always been extremely hard workers. There was a girl for each part of making the piñatas. Every year, we started making piñatas in August and finished at the beginning of January.

This gigantic piñata, still unfinished, measures almost six feet in diameter from point to point.

"One time, we had so many piñatas to finish that I didn't think we could do it. So I thought, 'if we work all night long, we can finish them by tomorrow morning.' Only I couldn't figure out how to keep the children awake to work all night." She laughed. "I went to the drugstore and bought pills to stay awake. I knew I could keep myself awake, but I gave one pill to each of the children. And in just a little while, I was working and they were sleeping, their heads fell right down into their work! What! Those pills didn't work at all! The next day I went back to the drugstore and asked the pharmacist about it. 'Oh no! I thought you asked me for pills to make them sleep!' he said." Doña Lolita laughed again. "We finished all the piñatas in spite of those pills, but you had better believe me, I never tried anything that foolish again."

Doña Lolita builds piñatas with her son-in-law, Fernando Cedeño Herrera (left), her daughter Mercedes Ayala Hernández, her grandchildren and her great-grandchildren. A close friend, Oswaldo Gutiérrez López (background), works with the family. Her grandson Enrique, 19, says he intends to keep the family business going.

Oswaldo Gutiérrez works on this piñata in the doorway of the tiny taller. Doña Lolita has taught many people the art of creating traditional piñatas, but her family and her loyal customers say she's the best piñatera (piñata maker) in Morelia.

"People come from everywhere to buy my piñatas. I don't have to take them out to sell; I only sell them here in the taller. Because they're so beautiful and well-made, all the best people in Morelia–and lots of people from other places–come to seek me out and order piñatas for their parties. I've taught my family that our work is our pride and our heritage, and my children have all taught their children the same. That is our legacy, our family tradition."

Fill the piñata with candy like these bags of traditional colación (hard candies especially for Christmas).

A group of Doña Lolita's piñatas, hung up for sale outside her workshop.

But why piñatas, and why in December? During the early days of the Spanish conquest, the piñata was used as a catechetical tool. The body of the piñata represented Satan; each of the seven points symbolized the seven capital sins (pride, lust, gluttony, rage, greed, laziness, and envy). Breaking the piñata equated with the triumph of good over evil, overpowering Satan, overcoming sin, and enjoying the delights of God's creation as they pour out of the piñata. Doña Lolita's most sought-after piñatas continue the traditional style, but she also creates piñatas shaped like roosters, peacocks, half-watermelons, deer, half moons, and once, an enormous octopus!

What the piñata might contain at Christmas–but fill it with whatever you think the kids will like best! Candies, small seasonal jícamas, sugar cane, mandarinas (tangerines) and cacahuates (fresh roasted in the shell peanuts, in season now) are all popular. Photo courtesy Google Images.

Now, for the nine nights from December 16 through December 24, Mexico celebrates las posadas. Each evening, a re-enactment of the Christmas story brings children dressed as la Virgencita María (ready to give birth to her baby) and her husband Sr. San José (and a street filled with angels, shepherds, and other costumed children) along the road to Bethlehem, searching for a place to stay. There is no place: Bethlehem's posadas (inns) are filled. Where will the baby be born! For the re-enactment, people wait behind closed doors at certain neighborhood houses. The santos peregrinos (holy pilgrims) knock, first at one door, then another. At each house, they sing a song, begging lodging for the night. At each house, the neighbors inside turn them away in song: 'No room here! Go away! Bother someone else!' Watch a lovely slide show:

[youtube=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R35yspFDsek&w=420&h=315]

Freshly toasted cacahuates (peanuts) also stuff the piñata. The wooden box holding the peanuts is actually a measure, as is the oval metal box.

After several houses turn away la Virgen, San José, and their retinue, they finally receive welcome at the last designated house. After the pilgrims sing their plea for a place to stay, the guests assembled inside sing their welcome, "Entren santos peregrinos…" (Come in, holy pilgrims…). The doors are flung open, everyone piles into the house, and a huge party starts. Traditional foods like ponche (a hot fruit punch), buñuelos (a thin fried dough covered with either sugar or syrup), and tamales (hundreds of tamales!) pour out of the kitchen as revelers sing villancicos (Mexican Christmas carols) and celebrate the coming of the Niño Dios (the Child Jesus). Finally, all the children line up to put on a blindfold and take swings at a piñata stuffed with candy, seasonal fruits, and peanuts.

This five-pound bag of hard candies shows a blindfolded (but peeking) boy ready to break open the filled piñata. Luis Gómez, a merchant at Local 290, Mercado Independencia in Morelia, offers these and other bags of piñata candies.

Mandarinas (tangerines) are in season at Christmastime and round out the goodies in many piñatas.

The piñata, stuffed with all it will hold, hangs from a rope during the posada party. A parent or neighbor swings it back and forth, up and down, as each child takes a turn at breaking it open with a big stick. Watch these adorable kids whack away at one:

[youtube=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XIOjDz0smFw&w=420&h=315]

The piñata, lovely though it may be, is purely temporary. Nevertheless, happy memories of childhood posadas with family and friends last a lifetime.

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19 de December de 2015
Mexico’s Independence Celebration: A Month of Fiestas Patrias

Street vendors hawk la bandera nacional (the Mexican flag) in dozens of forms for several weeks during August and right up to September 16, Mexico's Independence Day.

Mexico's official struggle for freedom from Spanish colonization began sometime between midnight and dawn on September 16, 1810, when Father Miguel Hidalgo gave the Grito de Dolores (Cry of Dolores) from the parish bell tower in the town known today as Dolores Hidalgo, Guanajuato. Mexico celebrates its day of Fiestas Patrias (Patriotic Holidays) on September 16 with parades of school children and military batallions, politicians proclaiming speeches, and general festivity.

Hundreds of books have been written about Mexico's break from Spain, millions of words have been dedicated to exploring the lives of the daring men and women who knew, a bit more than 200 years ago, that the time had come for freedom. You can read some of the history on the Internet. Another excellent source for Mexican history is The Life and Times of Mexico, by Earl Shorris. You'll find that book available on the left-hand side of this page.

But the best-kept secret in Mexico is the Independence Day party. No, the big deal is not on September 16th. Held every year on the night of September 15, the Gran Noche Mexicana (the Great Mexican Night), the real celebration of the revolutionary events in 1810, is a combination of New Year's Eve, your birthday, and your country's independence festivities. Wouldn't you really rather hear about the party?

Jalisco town kiosko (bandstand) decorated for the Fiestas Patrias.

For years I've attended the September 15 celebrations in a variety of towns and cities. In Mexico City, the country's president leads hundreds of thousands of citizens in late-night celebrations in the zócalo, the enormous square surrounded by government buildings and the Metropolitan Cathedral. Every Mexican town big enough to have a mayor holds a reenactment of the Grito de Dolores, Hidalgo's cry for independence. The town square is decorated with flags, bunting, and ribbons. Cohetes (sky rockets) flare and bang. Sometime around eleven o'clock at night, the folks, assembled in the town plaza since nine or so, are restless for the celebration to begin. The mayor's secretary peeks out from the doorway of the government offices, the folkloric dancers file off the stage in the plaza, the band tunes up for the Himno Nacional (the national anthem), the crowd waves its flags and hushes its jostling. The mayor steps out onto the balcony of the government building or onto the stage built just outside the building's front door to sing the Himno's emotional verses.

Dressed in his finest and backed up by a military or police guard, the mayor clears his throat and loudly begins an Independence Day proclamation. He pulls a heavy rope to ring the Independence bell, then he waves a huge Mexican flag. Back and forth, back and forth! In every Mexican town, the proclamation ends with Hidalgo's 205-year-old exhortations: "Long live religion! Long live Our Lady of Guadalupe! Long live the Americas and death to the corrupt government! Viva México! Qué viva!"

Father Hidalgo's 1810 banner. He carried this banner as his standard as a leader in the fight for Mexico's independence from Spain.

The mayor and the crowd shout as one voice: "Viva México! Qué viva! Qué viva!" The mayor grins and waves as the fireworks begin, bursting huge green, white, and red chrysanthemums over the heads of the attendees.

Later there will be dancing and more music, pozole, tostadas, mezcal, tequila and beer, and, in larger towns and cities, all-night revelry in the plaza, in private homes, and in hotels, restaurants, and events halls.

About five years ago my friend, música ranchera singer Lupita Jiménez from Guadalajara, invited me to a Gran Noche Mexicana where she was performing. The event was scheduled to start at 9.30, but Mexican custom normally dictates late arrival. By ten o'clock I was on my way to the party. At the salón de eventos (events hall) the parking lot was already full, but a man was parking cars on the street just a block away. As I left my car, he said, "Could you pay me now for watching your car? It's 20 pesos. I'll be leaving a little early, probably before the event is over."

"How long will you be here?" I asked, a bit anxious about leaving the car alone on this night of prodigious revelry.

Lupita Jiménez in performance at a Gran Noche Mexicana in Guadalajara.

"Till six." My jaw dropped and I handed him the 20 pesos. Six in the morning! Surely we wouldn't party quite so long as that!

The sad truth is that I didn't. I couldn't. My stamina flagged at about 3:00 AM, after dinner had been served at 10:30, a city politician had proclaimed the Grito, the Himno Nacional had been sung, and fireworks (I swear to you) had been set off on the indoor stage of the salón de eventos. Then the show started, a brief recapitulation in dance of Mexican history, starting with concheros (loincloth-clad Aztec dancers) whirling around a belching volcano, and ending with the glorious jarabe tapatía–the Guadalajara regional dance that most speakers of English know as the Mexican hat dance.

After innumerable trios, duets, and solo singers, the show paused for intermission at close to two in the morning. Several of my table-mates slipped away, but I thought I could make it to the end. The first half of the Gran Noche Mexicana had been invigorating and exciting and I loved it. During intermission, a wonderful Mexican comedian poked fun at politics, functionaries, and Mexican life in general. We were all roaring with laughter. When the comic left the stage, I realized that I was exhausted and needed to go home to bed. Just as the performers stepped onto the stage to begin the next round of song, I sneaked away.

When I called Lupita the next afternoon to congratulate her on the success of the event, she asked if I'd stayed for the last few costume changes. "Mija, I had to go home early. I lasted till three, but then I just couldn't stay awake. I'm so sorry I missed the end."

Lupita laughed. "I'm glad you lasted that long, but next time you have to stay for the whole night! You missed the best part!"

The Zócalo (main city plaza) in Mexico City, dressed up for the Fiestas Patrias.

Viva México! Qué viva!

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26 de September de 2015
Mexico Cooks! and the Joy of the Purépecha Language in Michoacán

A portion of the language-teaching wall in Santa Fe de la Laguna, Michoacán.

In early March, Mexico Cooks! and a friend spent a glorious day in Santa Fe de la Laguna, Michoacán. We walked in the village, basking like lizards in the warm sun, slipping into one tiny shop and then another searching for the best rebozo (a type of shawl). We stepped into the welcome shady patio of an artisan friend, a potter. When we finished at the potter's home, we took our time ambling to the car. Turning a corner, we found ourselves face to face with a vocabulary lesson!

In the Purépecha language, misitu means gato, or cat, if you speak English.

I am always surprised by the number of well-educated people, both native Spanish-speakers and people whose native language is English, who believe that Mexico's indigenous people speak dialects of Spanish. Consider that the indigenous groups of what is now Mexico lived on this land for thousands of years before the arrival of the conquistadores (Spanish conquerers). Until the 16th century, no one in what is now Mexico spoke Spanish. Each indigenous group spoke its own language and each group continues, to one degree or another, to use that language today. Here's a link to a list of the indigenous languages spoken in today's Mexico: Mexico's indigenous languages.

Tindi is the mosca–the common house fly.

In the state of Michoacán, four indigenous languages are spoken. The most common is Purépecha, with approximately 100,000 native speakers. Next is Mazahua, with nearly 4,000 speakers, followed by 2700 coastal region speakers of Nahúatl. Approximately 600 people in the easternmost part of the state speak Otomí.

Purépecha is considered to be an isolate language, with no connection to any other language spoken in the region, in the country, or in any other country. Linguists have found only remote ties to the Quechua language in Perú.

Xanchaki: the burro, or donkey.

Kuanasï is the rana–the frog. Note the umlaut over the letter ï. Because of the umlaut, the pronunciation of the preceding 's' becomes 'sh'. Kuanashi!

Axuni, or venado–the deer.

Most Purépecha children learn their parents' native language as a first language, often learning Spanish only after they are more than halfway through primary school. Although Purépecha has been a written language since the 16th century, standard written Purépecha only began to come into existence in 1939. Even now there is no consensus as to how the language should be written.

Uakasï, the vaca–the cow. Note that uakasï is pronounced with the 'sh' sound.

Utuksï, the caracol–snail! Now you know how to pronounce that sï at the end of the word.

Like all of the languages native to what is now Mexico, Purépecha is in danger of becoming extinct. Fortunately, both the state government as well as the native speakers are coming to understand the cultural and historic importance of keeping the language alive. It's taught in primary schools for the first three years. Once a child starts fourth grade, classes are bilingual Purépecha and Spanish.

K'útu is the tortuga–the turtle.

Puki is the jaguar–the big native cat. Its scientific name is Panthera onca, and it is the only big cat native to the Americas. In this painting, you see a person dressed in the jaguar dance costume, rather than the actual animal.

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29 de August de 2015
Ritos del Año Nuevo: Happy New Year, Mexican Style

In Mexico and other Latin American countries, women wear yellow underwear on New Year's Eve to bring good luck and wealth in the year to come. Red underwear indicates a New Year's wish for an exciting love interest! Whatever the color, be sure your unmentionables for Año Nuevo are newly purchased–recycling a former year's undies won't do the trick!

Superstition or not, many here in Mexico have the custom of ritos del Año Nuevo (New Year's rituals). Some rituals include foods, others prescribe certain clothing, and still others warrant attention for religious interest.

As the clock strikes midnight, it's common to eat twelve grapes–one at each ding, one at each dong of the bell. While eating the grapes, you make a personal wish for each one you consume, welcoming the new year that's beginning. Mexico Cooks! finds that it's helpful to write down the twelve wishes so as not to forget one or choke in the rush to swallow the grapes before the clock finishes striking the hour!

Eating a tablespoonful of cooked lentils on New Year's Eve is said to bring prosperity and fortune. You can also give raw lentils–just a handful–to family and friends with the same wish.

On a small piece of paper, write down the undesirable habits and customs you'd like to let go of in the New Year that's just starting. Burn the paper, then follow through with the changes!

Choose three stones that symbolize health, love, and money. Put them in a place where you will see them every day.

Light candles: blue for peace, yellow for abundance, red for love, green for health, white for spirituality, and orange for intelligence.

Spill clean water on the sidewalk in front of your house as the clock rings in the New Year. Your house will be purified and all tears will be washed away.

To have money for your needs all year, have some bills in your hand or in your pocket to welcome the arrival of the New Year. Some people fold up the money and put it in their shoes!

Take your suitcase for a walk. Legend is that the farther you walk with your suitcase, the farther you'll travel. Several New Year's Eves ago, Mexico Cooks! and a few friends celebrated by walking our suitcases around the block, and we all traveled far and wide during the new year that followed.

Mexico Cooks! wishes all of you a muy Próspero Año Nuevo–and especially wishes that your red underwear brings you (or keeps you) the love of family, friends, and that special someone.

We'll see you in 2015!

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

3 de January de 2015
Christmas Piñatas :: Piñatas Navideñas

Traditional piñatas ready for sale decorate the door to the Hernández family's tiny taller (workshop) on Av. Lázaro Cárdenas in Morelia, Michoacán.

Among unadorned, new ollas de barro (clay pots), plastic receptacles filled with engrudo (flour/water paste), and colorful, neatly stacked rounds of papel de china (tissue paper), Sra. María Dolores Hernández (affectionately known as Doña Lolita) sits on an upturned bucket. She'll celebrate her 84th birthday on December 24, and she still lights up–just like a Christmas tree–when she talks about her business and her life.

The last point of the star-shaped piñata is in Doña Lolita's hands, nearly ready to be glued into place.

"When I was a young woman, raising my family together with my husband, it was hard for us to make a good living here in Morelia. We had eight children (one has died, but six girls and a boy survive) and we struggled to make ends meet. My husband was a master mason, but I wanted to help out with the finances. I knew a woman who made piñatas, and I thought, 'I can do that.' So I started trying my hand, nearly 60 years ago."

Doña Lolita adds another layer of newspaper to this piñata in progress. "You can't put too much newspaper on the pot, because it will take too long to break," she explained. "And you can't put too little on it, either, because then the first child to hit it will break it. That's no good, either. You just have to know how much to use." Click on the photo to enlarge it and get a good look at the clay pot inside the paper maché.

"The woman who made piñatas wouldn't give away her secrets, so I had to figure everything out for myself. You should have seen me the first time I tried to make a bird's beak for a parrot-shaped piñata! A man I knew told me to make it out of chapopote (a kind of tar), so I did. It hardened all right, but later in the day the weather warmed up and that beak dripped down to here! What a mess! I finally figured out how to make the shape out of paper, but I just about broke my head thinking about it!"

Pre-cut rounds of papel de china (tissue paper) wait to be glued onto a piñata. The black plastic bag holds strips of newspaper.

Doña Lolita told me about the different grades of paper used to create different styles of decoration on the piñata, and she explained different kinds of paper-cutting techniques; she's absolutely the expert. Here, her son-in-law Fernando cuts tissue paper for fringe. His hands are so fast with the scissors it made my head spin; he can even cut without looking.

"In those days, the clay pots cost four and a half pesos for a gross–yes, for 144. In the old days, I usually sold about 7,000 piñatas every December, so you can imagine the investment I made just in clay pots. In the 1960s, I could sell a large piñata for seven pesos. Now–well, now the pots are much more expensive, so naturally the piñatas cost more, too. The large ones cost 45 pesos. This year, I'll sell about 1,000 piñatas just for the posadas. "

Piñatas in various stages of completion hang from every beam in Doña Lolita's tiny workshop.

"When my daughter Mercedes was about eight years old, she wanted to learn to make piñatas. She'd been watching me do it since she was born. So I taught her, and I've taught the whole family.  Piñatería (making piñatas) is what's kept us going." Doña Lolita smiled hugely. "My children have always been extremely hard workers. There was a girl for each part of making the piñatas. Every year, we started making piñatas in August and finished at the beginning of January.

This gigantic piñata, still unfinished, measures almost six feet in diameter from point to point.

"One time, we had so many piñatas to finish that I didn't think we could do it. So I thought, 'if we work all night long, we can finish them by tomorrow morning.' Only I couldn't figure out how to keep the children awake to work all night." She laughed. "I went to the drugstore and bought pills to stay awake. I knew I could keep myself awake, but I gave one pill to each of the children. And in just a little while, I was working and they were sleeping, their heads fell right down into their work! What! Those pills didn't work at all! The next day I went back to the drugstore and asked the pharmacist about it. 'Oh no! I thought you asked me for pills to make them sleep!' he said." Doña Lolita laughed again. "We finished all the piñatas in spite of those pills, but you had better believe me, I never tried anything that foolish again."

Doña Lolita builds piñatas with her son-in-law, Fernando Cedeño Herrera (left), her daughter Mercedes Ayala Hernández, her grandchildren and her great-grandchildren. A close friend, Oswaldo Gutiérrez López (background), works with the family. Her grandson Enrique, 19, says he intends to keep the family business going.

Oswaldo Gutiérrez works on this piñata in the doorway of the tiny taller. Doña Lolita has taught many people the art of creating traditional piñatas, but her family and her loyal customers say she's the best piñatera (piñata maker) in Morelia.

"People come from everywhere to buy my piñatas. I don't have to take them out to sell; I only sell them here in the taller. Because they're so beautiful and well-made, all the best people in Morelia–and lots of people from other places–come to seek me out and order piñatas for their parties. I've taught my family that our work is our pride and our heritage, and my children have all taught their children the same. That is our legacy, our family tradition."

Fill the piñata with candy like these bags of traditional colación (hard candies especially for Christmas).

But why piñatas, and why in December? During the early days of the Spanish conquest, the piñata was used as a catechetical tool. The body of the piñata represented Satan; each of the seven points symbolized the seven capital sins (pride, lust, gluttony, rage, greed, laziness, and envy). Breaking the piñata equated with the triumph of good over evil, overpowering Satan, overcoming sin, and enjoying the delights of God's creation as they pour out of the piñata. Doña Lolita's most sought-after piñatas continue the traditional style, but she also creates piñatas shaped like roosters, peacocks, half-watermelons, deer, half moons, and once, an enormous octopus!

Now, for the nine nights from December 16 through December 24, Mexico celebrates las posadas. Each evening, a re-enactment of the Christmas story brings children dressed as la Virgencita María (ready to give birth to her baby) and her husband Sr. San José (and a street filled with angels, shepherds, and other costumed children) along the road to Bethlehem, searching for a place to stay. There is no place: Bethlehem's posadas (inns) are filled. Where will the baby be born! For the re-enactment, people wait behind closed doors at certain neighborhood houses. The santos peregrinos (holy pilgrims) knock, first at one door, then another. At each house, they sing a song, begging lodging for the night. At each house, the neighbors inside turn them away in song: 'No room here! Go away! Bother someone else!' Watch a lovely slide show: Las Posadas.

Freshly toasted cacahuates (peanuts) also stuff the piñata. The wooden box holding the peanuts is actually a measure, as is the oval metal box.

After several houses turn away la Virgen, San José, and their retinue, they finally receive welcome at the last designated house. After the pilgrims sing their plea for a place to stay, the guests assembled inside sing their welcome,  "Entren santos peregrinos…" (Come in, holy pilgrims…). The doors are flung open, everyone piles into the house, and a huge party starts. Traditional foods like ponche (a hot fruit punch), buñuelos (a thin fried dough covered with either sugar or syrup), and tamales (hundreds of tamales!) pour out of the kitchen as revelers sing villancicos (Mexican Christmas carols) and celebrate the coming of the Niño Dios (the Child Jesus). Finally, all the children line up to put on a blindfold and take swings at a piñata stuffed with candy, seasonal fruits, and peanuts.

This five-pound bag of hard candies shows a blindfolded (but peeking) boy ready to break open the filled piñata. Luis Gómez, a merchant at Local 290, Mercado Independencia in Morelia, offers these and other bags of piñata candies.

Mandarinas (tangerines) are in season at Christmastime and round out the goodies in lots of piñatas.

The piñata, stuffed with all it will hold, hangs from a rope during the posada party. A parent or neighbor swings it back and forth, up and down, as each child takes a turn at breaking it open with a big stick. Watch these adorable kids whack away.

The piñata, lovely though it may be, is purely temporary. Nevertheless, happy memories of childhood posadas with family and friends last a lifetime.

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

14 de December de 2013
Mexico’s Dichos de la Cocina: Kitchen Sayings, Part Two

A beautiful pink and golden Mexican chicken, ready for the soup pot.

What, you might wonder, the title of this article says it is part two? Where is part one? As Mexico Cooks! spent some time this week reviewing old articles, we suddenly realized that way, way back in March 2009 we promised a second article about kitchen sayings 'later this year'–and suddenly it's four years later! Can we blame our lack of follow-through on one of my favorite sayings, "Life is what happens while you're making other plans"? Or maybe let's just leave it at 'más vale tarde que nunca'–better late than never!

Chile relleno con frijoles negros de la olla (stuffed poblano chile served with freshly cooked black beans). Photo courtesy Conde Pétatl.

Mexico's dichos de la cocina (kitchen sayings) number in the hundreds, if not the thousands. Just like sayings and proverbs in any language, Mexican dichos usually have a double meaning: what the words of the saying are, and then how they are interpreted. In English, the phrase "the early bird catches the worm" make sense just as you read it, but it has a secondary import: if you start your endeavor sooner rather than later, you have a much better chance of success. So it is with all of these!

Pig head, ready to buy and take home to make pozole.

Here are some of Mexico Cooks!' personal favorites:

Vale más pan con amor, que gallina con dolor. Bread eaten with love is worth more than chicken eaten with pain.
Se cambia mas fácilmente de religión que de café. It's easier to change your religion than to change your coffee.
Quien hambre tiene, en pan piensa. The hungry person thinks of bread.

Café con leche (coffe with milk) served with a basket of pan dulce ( sweet Mexican breads).

El que parte y comparte, se queda con la mejor parte. The one who portions and shares, gets the best part.
Al hablar, como al guisar, su granito de sal. In speaking and cooking, a grain of salt.
Frutos y amores, los primeros son los mejores. Fruits and loves–the first are the best.

A street vendor's fresh fruit in Paracho, Michoacán. He sells seasonal fruits, including papaya, sandía (watermelon), and mango. Enlarge any photo for better detail–in this photo, you'll see the bees.

Guajolote que se sale del corral, termina en mole. The turkey that gets out of the yard ends up in mole.
La vida es como una cebolla, uno la pela llorando. Life is like an onion, you cry while you peel it.
Mata el pollo y pon la mesa. Kill the chicken and set the table.

Frijol peruano ('Peruvian' beans), ready to cook in a clay pot filled with water.

Mentir y comer pescado quieren cuidado. Be careful when lying and eating fish.
Nunca falta un negrito en el arroz. There is always a black speck in the rice.
Al hambre de siete días, no hay pan duro. To a week's hunger, there is no such thing as hard bread.

Champurrado (chocolate atole) at Restaurant Flor de Lis, Mexico City.

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15 de June de 2013
Pastorela in Cuitzeo: Devil Take the Hindmost
This article, originally published at Christmastime 2007, has been extremely popular every Christmas since then. We think you will enjoy this slightly updated version…

A Seattle Christmas pageant, circa 1953. Thanks, Sandy in Seattle!

My school put on a Christmas pageant when I was in the third grade,
back in the days before the law specified generic holiday greetings. Remember how Joey
and Jimmy, Ralphie and Bobby, were the shepherds in their father's striped
terrycloth bathrobes, the sashes tied three or four times around their
waists? Chuck got to be Joseph and that prissy little Amy got to dress
in blue and white as the Virgin Mary when everybody KNEW it should have
been you up there nuzzling the Baby Jesus. Here's a sweet little
reminder:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=clSUr9fLapY&w=320&h=240]

A 19th Century pastorela photograph showing Bartolo, the indolent shepherd who overslept and missed his chance to go to Bethlehem to see the Niño Dios.

In Mexico, a Christmas pageant, like almost everything, is different from Christmas plays North of the Border. Called a pastorela,
the Mexican Christmas play is part very naughty topical comedy, part
traditional drama, part Sunday school lesson, and 100% morality play. Pastorela means pastoral, or a play that takes place in the countryside, and concerns the activities of pastores, or shepherds. First introduced to Mexico by Franciscan missionaries in the 1500's, pastorelas
continued to grow in favor here. Today the plays are one of the most
popular Christmastime entertainments. The theme portrays the eternal
conflict between good and evil. The plot revolves around the pilgrimage
of the shepherds to Bethlehem to see the newborn Niño Dios (Christ Child).

The devil is not ordinarily associated with Christmas. In Mexico, however, Satanás
plays a very solid role in the holiday festivities. He is actually the
star! Lucifer works all his worst wiles to detour the shepherds away
from their destination. Costumed as various alluring personages, Satan
and his associate devils do their best to trick the shepherds into
abandoning their journey to redemption. At the end, Satan is trumped,
good triumphs, the shepherds meet the Holy Family, and all is well.

Mexico Cooks! recently spent a week or so looking for a pastorela to be presented at a time we could attend. Last week, Judy noticed an article in the newspaper about a pastorela that was being offered that very night in Cuitzeo, a small town about an hour north of Morelia. The title of the play (El Ermitaño.com:
The Hermit.com) was intriguing, the photo of the performers in costume
looked exciting, and the timing was right. We called our friend Bunny,
who jumped at the chance to accompany us to the evening performance, and
we were off to Cuitzeo.

Cuitzeo reached the status of Mexican Pueblo Mágico, the third in Michoacán, in 2006. The requirements for the Pueblo Mágico designation are:
- a town or city rich in tradition
- located in an area of high interest to tourists
- that it have a strong history
- that it have ready access from major highways
You'll see in this video that Cuitzeo easily meets Pueblo Mágico criteria.

Our pastorela took place outside, on the grounds of the
Ex-Convento de Santa María Magdalena, a 16th Century Augustinian
convent. Judy, Bunny, and I stopped first in the church to see the
Christmas decorations.

Cuitzeo's 17th Century Virgin Mary wears a charming straw sombrero, carries a lace-trimmed basket, and rides a donkey as she and Joseph travel to Bethlehem.

The presentation of El Ermitaño.com was sponsored by Adopt a
Work of Art, the Michoacán Secretary of Tourism, the Cuitzeo city
government, the National Institute of Anthropology and History, and the
newspaper La Voz de Michoacán. We discovered that this pastorela was not a simple country town's Christmas caprice. It is a sophisticated, professional play of great good humor.

According to Miguel Sabido, the creator of El Hermitaño.com,
"The culture which distinguishes Mexico is both vast and rich, but it's
composed of more than our country's admirable buildings. Mexico has
its greatest patrimony in its popular rituals, and its recipes like the pinole cookies that are only made here in this region, and the pastorelas. These are Mexico's legacies and we must make a commitment to spread her traditions."

The pastorela characters mounted the stage dancing, singing, and rejoicing.

Adam and Eve were the first to take the devil's bait: Adam bit the apple and all hell broke loose.

Still singing, the shepherds, in typical indigenous Purhépecha dress, started their trip to Bethlehem.

El ermitaño (the hermit), portrayed as a post-elderly (think
200 years old) fellow, leads the shepherds (in this case, indigenous
Purépecha from Michoacán) on the long trip to Bethlehem. The Archangel
Michael warns them that they'll see the devil in the disguise of famous
and fascinating people. When Satan begins to tempt the simple
shepherds, they easily fall into his traps.

El ermitaño (the hermit) co-starred with Satan.

Famously rival Mexican soccer teams, a drunken debauch complete with
Caribbean dancers in flounced skirts and turbans, and an angelic choir
are all devils in disguise. In every encounter, Archangel Michael has
to intervene to prod the shepherds on their way. Topical jokes ran
wild, references to the famous and the infamous flew, and we loved it
all.

Finally, Bethlehem! The Virgin Mary holds the Niño Dios as St. Joseph and the shepherds look on.

The pastorela story was typically good conquers evil, but
what a production! Acted, danced, and sung by professionals, the
morality play kept the crowd (packed into bleachers on two sides of the
open stage) laughing, clapping, booing and hissing, and singing along
with Mexico's treasured and iconic villancicos (Christmas carols).

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07FjX4R1d-s&w=350&h=263]
Listen to this lovely version of Los Peces en el Río. Can you hear the lyric 'la Virgen lava pañales'? It means 'the Virgin is washing diapers'!

Mexico Cooks! wishes everyone a very joyous New Year, filled with good health, great happiness, and many delights.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.
29 de December de 2012
Christmas–Piñata Time in Mexico!

Traditional piñatas ready for sale decorate the door to the Hernández family's tiny taller (workshop) on Av. Lázaro Cárdenas in Morelia, Michoacán.

Among clean ollas de barro (clay pots), plastic receptacles filled with engrudo (flour/water paste), and colorful, neatly stacked rounds of papel de china
(tissue paper), Sra. María Dolores Hernández (affectionately known as
Doña Lolita) sits on an upturned bucket. She'll celebrate her 82nd
birthday on December 24, and she still lights up–just like a Christmas tree–when she talks about her business and her life.

The last point of the star-shaped piñata is in Doña Lolita's hands, nearly ready to be glued into place.

"When I was a young woman, raising my family together with my
husband, it was hard for us to make a good living here in Morelia. We
had eight children (one has died, but six girls and a boy survive) and
we struggled to make ends meet. My husband was a master mason, but I
wanted to help out with the finances. I knew a woman who made piñatas, and I thought, 'I can do that.' So I started trying my hand, nearly 60 years ago."

Doña Lolita adds another layer of newspaper to this piñata
in progress. "You can't put too much newspaper on the pot, because it
will take too long to break," she explained. "And you can't put too
little on it, either, because then the first child to hit it will break
it. That's no good, either. You just have to know how much to use."
Click on the photo to enlarge it and get a good look at the clay pot
inside the paper maché.

"The woman who made piñatas wouldn't give away her secrets,
so I had to figure everything out for myself. You should have seen me
the first time I tried to make a bird's beak for a parrot-shaped piñata! A man I knew told me to make it out of chapopote
(a kind of tar), so I did. It hardened all right, but later in the
day the weather warmed up and that beak dripped down to here! What a
mess! I finally figured out how to make the shape out of paper, but I
just about broke my head thinking about it!"

Pre-cut rounds of papel de china (tissue paper) wait to be glued onto a piñata. The black plastic bag holds strips of newspaper.

Doña Lolita told me about the different grades of paper used to create different styles of decoration on the piñata,
and she explained different kinds of paper-cutting techniques; she's
absolutely the expert. Here, her son-in-law Fernando cuts tissue paper
for fringe. His hands are so fast with the scissors it made my head
spin; he can even cut without looking.

"In those days, the clay pots cost four and a half pesos for a gross–yes, for 144. In the old days, I usually sold about 7,000 piñatas every December, so you can imagine the investment I made just in clay pots. In the 1960s, I could sell a large piñata for seven pesos. Now–well, now the pots are much more expensive, so naturally the piñatas cost more, too. The large ones cost 45 pesos. This year, I'll sell about 1,000 piñatas just for the posadas. "

Piñatas in various stages of completion hang from every beam in Doña Lolita's tiny workshop.

"When my daughter Mercedes was about eight years old, she wanted to learn to make piñatas. She'd been watching me do it since she was born. So I taught her, and I've taught the whole family. Piñatería (making piñatas)
is what's kept us going." Doña Lolita smiled hugely. "My children
have always been extremely hard workers. There was a girl for each part
of making the piñatas. Every year, we started making piñatas in August and finished at the beginning of January.

This gigantic piñata, still unfinished, measures almost six feet in diameter from point to point.

"One time, we had so many piñatas to finish that I didn't think we could do it. So I thought, 'if we work all night long, we can finish them by tomorrow morning.'
Only I couldn't figure out how to keep the children awake to work all
night." She laughed. "I went to the drugstore and bought pills to
stay awake. I knew I could keep myself awake, but I gave one pill to
each of the children. And in just a little while, I was working and
they were sleeping, their heads fell right down into their work!
What! Those pills didn't work at all! The next day I went back to the
drugstore and asked the pharmacist about it. 'Oh no! I thought you
asked me for pills to make them sleep!' he said." Doña Lolita laughed again. "We finished all the piñatas in spite of those pills, but you had better believe me, I never tried anything that foolish again."

Doña Lolita builds piñatas
with her son-in-law, Fernando Cedeño Herrera (left), her daughter
Mercedes Ayala Hernández, her grandchildren and her
great-grandchildren. A close friend, Oswaldo Gutiérrez López
(background), works with the family. Her grandson Enrique, 19, says he
intends to keep the family business going.

Oswaldo Gutiérrez works on this piñata in the doorway of the tiny taller. Doña Lolita has taught many people the art of creating traditional piñatas, but her family and her loyal customers say she's the best piñatera (piñata maker) in Morelia.

"People come from everywhere to buy my piñatas. I don't have to take them out to sell; I only sell them here in the taller.
Because they're so beautiful and well-made, all the best people in
Morelia–and lots of people from other places–come to seek me out and
order piñatas for their parties. I've taught my family that
our work is our pride and our heritage, and my children have all taught
their children the same. That is our legacy, our family tradition."

Fill the piñata with candy like these bags of traditional colación (hard candies especially for Christmas).

But why piñatas, and why in December? During the early days of the Spanish conquest, the piñata was used as a catechetical tool. The body of the piñata
represented Satan; each of the seven points symbolized the seven
capital sins (pride, lust, gluttony, rage, greed, laziness, and envy).
Breaking the piñata equated with the triumph of good over
evil, overpowering Satan, overcoming sin, and enjoying the delights of
God's creation as they pour out of the piñata. Doña Lolita's most sought-after piñatas continue the traditional style, but she also creates piñatas shaped like roosters, peacocks, half-watermelons, deer, half moons, and once, an enormous octopus!

Now, for the nine nights from December 16 through December 24, Mexico celebrates las posadas. Each evening, a re-enactment of the Christmas story brings children dressed as la Virgencita María (ready to give birth to her baby) and her husband Sr. San José
(and a street filled with angels, shepherds, and other costumed
children) along the road to Bethlehem, searching for a place to stay.
There is no place: Bethlehem's posadas (inns) are filled.
Where will the baby be born! For the re-enactment, people wait behind
closed doors at certain neighborhood houses. The santos peregrinos
(holy pilgrims) knock, first at one door, then another. At each house,
they sing a song, begging lodging for the night. At each house, the
neighbors inside turn them away in song: 'No room here! Go away! Bother someone else!' Watch a lovely slide show: Las Posadas.

Freshly toasted cacahuates (peanuts) also stuff the piñata. The wooden box holding the peanuts is actually a measure, as is the oval metal box.

After several houses turn away la Virgen, San José,
and their retinue, they finally receive welcome at the last designated
house. After the pilgrims sing their plea for a place to stay, the
guests assembled inside sing their welcome, "Entren santos peregrinos…"
(Come in, holy pilgrims…). The doors are flung open, everyone piles
into the house, and a huge party starts. Traditional foods like ponche (a hot fruit punch), buñuelos (a thin circle of fried dough covered with either sugar or syrup), and tamales (hundreds of tamales!) pour out of the kitchen as revelers sing villancicos (Mexican Christmas carols) and celebrate the coming of the Niño Dios (the Child Jesus). Finally, all the children line up to put on a blindfold and take swings at a piñata stuffed with candy, seasonal fruits, and peanuts.

This five-pound bag of hard candies shows a blindfolded (but peeking) boy ready to break open the filled piñata. Luis Gómez, a merchant at Local 290, Mercado Independencia in Morelia, offers these and other bags of piñata candies.

Mandarinas (tangerines) are in season at Christmastime and round out the goodies in lots of piñatas.

The piñata, stuffed with all it will hold, hangs from a rope during the posada
party. A parent or neighbor swings it back and forth, up and down, as
each child takes a turn at breaking it open with a big stick. Watch
these adorable kids whack away.

The piñata, lovely though it may be, is purely temporary. Nevertheless, happy memories of childhood posadas with family and friends last a lifetime.

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

15 de December de 2012
Camera in Hand in Mexico City: Con la Cámara en la Mano en el DF

Where is the online game starring these birds NOT the latest craze? A couple of weeks ago, Mexico Cooks! took a small group tour to Mexico City's enormous Mercado de la Merced and was not the least surprised to find Angry Birds^®piñatas in every party goods stand. Red, yellow, blue, black and white birds were all there–but there was not a single green pig in sight.

The great violinist don Pepe Martínez, director of Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán–the self-described best mariachi in the world. It's true: there is no other mariachi that compares with the 114-year-old group founded in Tecalitlán, Jalisco by don Gaspar Vargas López. We were up-close-and-personal with them this past March, when we sat in the third row at their concert at the UNAM.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_YLg7w4y9w&w=350&h=267]
Just in case you haven't heard Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán, listen to one of Mexico Cooks! favorites: Entra en Mi Vida (Come Into My Life). Part of the lyric goes like this: "Come into my life, I beg you! I started out missing you, then I needed you, now I don't want anyone else…I want you to be the owner of my heart." Of course I think the entire song expresses my feelings for my beloved wife.

This enormous Judas figure hangs in a stairwell at the Museo de Arte Popular (Popular Arts Museum) in Mexico City's Centro Histórico. Paper maché figures representing Judas Iscariot are traditionally hanged and burned in parts of Mexico on the Saturday night before Easter Sunday. They normally measure from this guy's shoe to his knee. This fellow is a giant, not to mention a fashion statement.

Can you look at the photo without tipping your head sideways? The green wall of plants, bringing a refreshing touch of the natural to downtown, makes up one side wall of Restaurante Padrino on Calle Isabel la Católica, Mexico City. The bicycle is parked on the–lawn? The doors lead into individual shops on the balcony of the former Palacio de los Condes de Miravalle, built in the mid-18th century. The former palace, which is now home to two restaurants (Azul/Histórico), a soon-to-open hotel, and some charming shops, is one of the Distrito Federal's oldest buildings.

Just when I think I have seen just about everything sweet or salty that people snack on here in the city, I learn about something I could not have imagined. A vendor outside the Mercado de la Merced sells these by the measure. I could not guess what I was seeing, can you? Click on the photo to enlarge it for a better view–but the who-knew secret is that these are salted wild cherry pits. Suck one for a while, then break it open and eat the tiny almond-shaped kernel inside. I regret not asking to try one.

Sometimes a person just has to show off a little. Mexico Cooks! was expecting company and decided to prepare a tortilla española–a Spanish omelet with potatoes and onions. This simple dish, served chilled or at room temperature, is a classic from Spain.

In Mexico, February 2 is el Día de la Candelaria (Candlemas Day). Candelaria marks the official end of the Christmas season; it comes forty days after the Christian celebration of the birth of Jesus. It's said to be the day that the Virgin Mary took the newborn Jesus to the temple for the first time. Here in Mexico, the feast day is celebrated by dressing a figure of the Niño Dios (Child God) in all sorts of finery and taking him to church like a babe in arms to be blessed. These Niños Dios representing various saints and traditions are for sale in shops along Calle Talavera in Mexico City, as well as in a number of other spots. There are a number of other customs for the day, and the celebration always includes eating tamales and drinking atole. Candelaria is linked to the Day of the Three Kings (January 6), when we eat rosca de reyes (a kind of sweet bread) that contains a tiny plastic figure of the Baby Jesus. Tradition says that the person who gets the little figure in his or her slice of rosca throws the tamales party on Candelaria.

Speaking of tamales, a gentleman vendor at our neighborhood tianguis (street market) gave me these on February 2 this year. They are made of typical corn masa (dough) and filled with refried black beans. Each tamalito (little tamal–that's the word for just one!) measures about three inches long by an inch in diameter. The little clay dish that holds them is about three inches across. The vendor told me that he makes them twice a year and he promised to invite me to the tamalada (tamales-making party) the next time the day rolls around. Rather than being twisted or tied closed, the ends of the corn husks are pushed into a dimple at the end of each tamal. These are a specialty of Milpa Alta in the southernmost part of Mexico City.

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

5 de May de 2012