shoestring gringa

What’s the best map to use when traveling by car in Mexico?  I really have no idea — suggestions are always welcome!  My strategy is to always have a few on hand for whatever area you might be traveling through, and the more the better.

I have to confess our collection of maps is pretty haphazard, which may be why none of them seems very satisfactory — leftovers from a vacation fifteen years ago, giveaways that came with Mexican insurance, city maps of places we have lived or shopped, a large map of todo Mexico coated in tequila-resistant plastic, and an ancient, crumbling AAA map with an irreplaceable driving distance inset.  We do not own the finest examples of Mexican cartography.  And of course the older maps don’t reflect the enormous amount of road construction which has been done in recent years.

With that in mind, I’ll say that I’ve noticed numerous inconsistencies among these various maps, and it is always a comfort to be able to consult a second source.    The presence of secondary roads on a given map seems to be a complete crapshoot, so if you’re off the beaten path be especially sure to have a few.  Inaccuracies are also common;  I’ve seen roads shown going through towns miles distant from the actual ones.  Visual representations can also be misleading; on the map it appears you need to turn left at the junction to get to X, whereas in fact you must go straight, and you would have to make a hard right to stay on what appears to be the same road on the map.  If you get my drift.

When in doubt, ask a local.  It’s always safer than depending on maps, or signs for that matter.

Continuing on the food theme of the last post,  it occurred to me that some kinds of cookbooks are more  useful than others here in Old Mexico.  If you’re in the pre-relocation sorting stage, and you’ve got the wherewithal, as with all books, I say bring them all!  If you’re trying to weed out an overgrown collection, however, here are some points to keep in mind.

Any cookbook that relies heavily on exotic ingredients or equipment is likely to be of little use in Mexico (unless you live in a very metropolitan area).  I parted reluctantly with a Hunan cookbook before leaving and have had no reason to regret it — on the contrary, having it around now would only make me pine for its unobtainable pleasures.

Old-fashioned, basic cookbooks have proved the most useful in my experience.  The more general reference material they contain the better.  As I’ve mentioned before, cooking in most parts of Mexico involves starting with what you’ve got as opposed to dreaming up a menu and then assembling it.  I got rid of my 1968 edition of the Larousse Gastronomique because it was so large and heavy, and regretted it so much I actually found another copy (in worse condition) on Amazon and replaced it.  I also regret getting rid of my old Joy of Cooking, although I won’t be replacing that one.  I don’t remember ever actually making a recipe from the Joy of Cooking, but all those tables about cooking times and how long stuff will keep in the freezer can really come in handy at times.

I definitely recommend bringing anything you’ve loved and used for years (for me, all my Italian and Spanish cookbooks), and  also anything of  literary interest (e.g. Elizabeth David, M.F.K. Fisher, Anthony Bourdain, etc.).

I brought a couple of Mexican cookbooks, which turned out to be a good idea, despite my worry about carrying coals to Newcastle.  I’m sorry now I got rid of my Diana Kennedy collection; her formidable scholarship would be doubly interesting now we’re living  here, in spite of  her uber-control-freak recipe format which always annoyed me so.

The one cookbook we’ve acquired since living here (besides the Larousse replacement) is a Cuban one, bought with an eye to wresting more variety out of the limited ingredients available in rural Sonora, and it has worked out very well.

As with all these decisions, when in doubt, keep it and bring it along!  If it’s a book you’re fond of, it will still be good for entertainment or nostalgia, even if you never make another recipe from it again.

Deciding what to bring and what to leave behind before moving to Mexico was an agonizing process and we certainly didn’t get it right every time.  With the benefit of hindsight, I offer this thought — when in doubt, bring it!  You can always give it away later.  Someone will want, use, and cherish it when you no longer do.

Here are a few items that turned out, sometimes surprisingly, to be a Really Good Idea to bring along.

• Bread machine.  Now defunct, unfortunately, but great while it lasted.  Its importance would depend on what’s available locally, of course.  Where good bakeries were abundant, I still used it occasionally for making whole grain breads which are not so common in Mexico.  In our current remote location, making our own bread is the only option.  Bread machines help with two seasonal problems in breadmaking:  having to light the oven in hot weather, and finding a place for the dough to rise when it’s cold.
• Sheepskin-lined boots.  It may sound incongruous, but I’ve used mine in every place I’ve lived in Mexico except Yucatan.  Unless you are going to the torrid tropics, where maybe you won’t need them, they well might end up be your most prized possession.  Houses in Mexico are of masonry construction, and masonry buildings can be chilly, very chilly, even when it’s a balmy 80 degrees F outside.  Remember that central heating is practically unheard of in Mexico, and most people don’t use space heating either.  Many people warm up by simply going outside and sitting in the sun during the chilly hours.  If you have things to do inside the house, better bring clothes.
• Tools.  All of them.  From chain saws to seam rippers.  You’ll never regret it.
• Hair dryer.  I hate using hair dryers because of the noise they make.  But in winter I use one when it’s just too cold to let my hair air-dry.
• Vacuum cleaner.  I was ready to gleefully leave ours behind (ditto noise objection and also we were not going to have carpets) but the Mexigringo wouldn’t hear of it.  He loves his vacuum.  And it has proved to be infinitely useful in the eternal battle against dust/dirt/cobwebs, as well as for post-DIY cleanups.  Not to mention ash and soot control now we are using a wood-burning fireplace and heating stove.  A canister or shop vac model would be more practical than our upright.
• Pressure cooker.  We didn’t actually bring one but bought it here.  Which was a real hassle finding a stainless steel (as opposed to aluminum) one although we finally located a Spanish-made model for about ~$50 US.  This being Mexico and all, you may find yourself cooking beans a lot, and the pressure cooker significantly reduces time and gas usage.  It’s also dandy for getting tough cuts of meat tender fairly quickly.
• Camp stove with gas cartridges.  This has saved the day many times.  Great for making coffee etc. in semi-camping living conditions, if you’re anticipating any of those.  And an ongoing Good Thing every time the propane tank runs out in mid-dinner preparation.  (Better mid-dinner than mid-shower!)  After you get your two-tank propane setup so you never run out of gas, there’s always camping.
• Coleman lantern with fuel cartridges, flashlights, and LED headlamp.  For power failures.
• Porta-Potty.  We were really happy to have this when working long days on our house with the nearest public bathroom six blocks away.
• Over-the-door towel rack.  Sometimes it’s the little things that mean the most.  This $14 Target item has been our faithful friend through many a hardwareless bathroom.  When there’s no door it will fit on, it will hang happily over the shower curtain rod.   One of those over-the-showerhead hanging soap/shampoo racks is a useful companion piece.
• Stuff-holders, i.e. any item that can hold a bunch of other items.  Our most beloved stuff-holder is a hand-me-down kitchen counter/table from Target with decorative metal trim around the sides off of which pots can be hung with S-hooks.  Other examples include a wine rack with small drawer (full of keys) which holds the water dispenser, a futon platform with 14 drawers underneath, all manner of little rolling wire carts, hanging fruit baskets and pot racks, and bookcases.  Mexican houses are devoid of built-in storage features of any kind, and if like most gringos you are overburdened with stuff, you will be needing a place to put it all.
• Expanding curtain rods and assorted lengths of cloth.  Instant curtains!  Can also be used in doorways.
• Jar of white tempera paint and brush.  Makes quick, cheap frosted glass equivalent.  You can paint windowpanes with this to have privacy while still letting in light.  Good solution for bathrooms and anyplace you might not want a curtain.
• Old-style phone, i.e. non-electronic model.  It will work during power failures.

If you are going to be driving to the US, be advised of a change in the enforcement of certain motor vehicle regulations regarding who can drive what, where.  Falling afoul of these regulations may result in the CONFISCATION of your vehicle.

An acquaintance, a longtime legal resident of the US, who travels regularly between his beach condo in Sonora and his home in Arizona was made aware of these changes about a week ago when he left his US-registered car at the condo and drove his Mexican-registered truck back to Arizona so he could use it to move some furniture.  He says he has driven his truck to Arizona dozens of times over many years in the past.  This time, he was given a choice of returning to Mexico or having his vehicle confiscated, and warned that if he attempts to enter the US again in the vehicle that it will be confiscated the next time.   He was also advised that his US-born wife is not allowed to drive a vehicle with Mexican plates in the US either, and that Mexican citizens who are not legal US residents are not allowed to drive vehicles with US plates in the US.  (Are you still with me here?)

On further inquiry he was told that these laws have been in existence all along, but were formerly not enforced.

Well people, they are being enforced now, and vigorously from the look of it.  We have since heard of two cases of people actually losing their vehicles.

I’ve been unable to locate any reference for these laws on quick search, but thought it more important to just let people know.  This is really happening.

I offer here some items to consider before committing to a rental dwelling in Mexico. This list may also be useful to prospective buyers who don’t want to spend a lot of money on changes and improvements.

• Laundry setup. If you plan to have a washing machine, make sure there’s a place you can put it, with water line(s) available and a drain of some kind. Figure out where the clothesline can go.
• Hot water. Make sure there’s hot water wherever you might want it. Do not assume there is hot water in the kitchen or bathroom sinks, even though there may be two faucets in evidence. Don’t even assume the shower has hot water, for that matter, although many do. Never assume anything.
• Rotoplas. Many areas in Mexico undergo frequent interruptions of the water supply. It is therefore highly desirable to have a water storage tank (Rotoplas is a common brand name) up on the roof, to tide you over during these otherwise annoying/inconvenient/unsanitary interludes.
• Leaks, etc. Check carefully for any obvious problems such as leaky toilets or faucets and insist that they be repaired before you move in (unless you’re willing to do it yourself). Inspect the ceilings for stains indicating leaks, and ask if they have been repaired. Eyeball doorways which might admit flash floods during sudden downpours.
• Shower. Always turn on the shower to see if it works okay. Few things are more miserable to live with than a crappy shower.
• Parking. Make sure there is a safe, convenient place to park your vehicle(s), including any trailers, bicycles, etc. Try to find out if there’s a busy season which affects parking availability.
• Pets. Most Mexican landlords we’ve encountered don’t care about pets, at least not in the price ranges we’ve rented in — it’s not like there are any curtains or rugs to destroy. We do always ask, however. What’s really important is to check for pet safety — are there screens on the windows so the cats can’t escape, or a good place to walk the dog? Houses with indoor patios are great for pets; they can enjoy being outside while safe from the hazards of the street.
• Temperatures. This can be hard to gauge, but try to get a sense of how comfortable the place might be during the hot or cold times of year, if applicable. Note the thickness of walls, the height of ceilings, and the placement and exposures of windows. Are there windows or doors placed such that cross-ventilation is possible? Thick walls and high ceilings bode best for hot climates. Thin walls suck at both hot and cold extremes of temperature. Low-ceilinged rooms are faster and cheaper to heat in cold weather, although unattractive. Note that masonry houses can feel quite cold even when it’s 70 F. outside.
• Noise. If noise bothers you, try to visit the prospective place during both day and evening hours to check out the noise level. Some streets become notably busier at certain times of the day such as commute hours. Consider whether you’ll have street-facing windows open a lot. Vacation areas can get incredibly noisy during busy times, with deafening disco music blasting most of the night over the din of 24-hour car traffic, late-night revelers, and the carnival down the street.
• Air quality. If the windows are going to be open a lot, check out that the diesel fume level is tolerable.
• Lighting and electrical. Most Mexican houses that we’ve lived in have pretty basic lighting arrangements, i.e. a bare light bulb in the middle of the ceiling if you’re lucky, a 2-watt neon ring fixture if you’re not. Be prepared to supplement with lamps if you prefer a more subtle ambiance. For painting, we’ve been using a 4-foot, 2-tube overhead fluorescent fixture, which we hang from hooks screwed into the ceiling, or hook-and-chain arrangements from high rafters. Try to make sure enough outlets are operational for your needs (not all outlets necessarily have power). A few power strips are always good to have on hand, but be careful not to overload the circuits (or should I say circuit; there is usually but one). Most places do not have the electricity grounded. At the very least have a good surge suppressor for computers and other valuable electronics. In one place we rented, the Mexigringo aka Mr. Fabulous Fixit, improvised a ground for the outlet of the computer by clamping a ground wire to a convenient galvanized plumbing pipe which was partially buried in the ground, and attaching the other end to an outlet with ground (which he of course had to provide and install). This type of improvisation is known as a mexicanada and is not recommended unless you have professional-level electrical know-how.
• Utilities. If you’re renting a place where there are multiple units, make sure the utilities are separate. This includes the propane gas for hot water and cooking and the hot water heater itself. Shared billing arrangements inevitably end up being unfair to someone and causing problems. Shared hot water heaters and gas tanks lead to even more cold showers and half-cooked meals than usual, which is too many already.
• Price. Last but not least! Rental prices can vary wildly in Mexico, especially as you get off the beaten track. Try to see as many places as you can before deciding, and to have at least some idea of what might be the going rate for comparable properties. It’s possible to pay a fortune for a dump, and a pittance for a palace, in the same neighborhood. Patience and persistence are most likely to lead to success.

The good news is that Mexico has a wondrous system of modern, well-maintained, four-lane highways going pretty much anywhere in the Republic you might wish to visit. The bad news is that they are toll roads (Cuotas), and they cost an arm and a leg.

I guess the other good news is that you don’t have to use them; you are always free to use the Libre, the free road, along with the rest of the hoi polloi and most of the trucks. The Libres are generally older, in worse repair, two lanes only, lacking in shoulders for important activities like tire-changing or avoiding oncoming trucks in your lane, hillier/curvier, more congested, and take longer to get from point A to point B.

Despite the above disadvantages, on some stretches the Libres can actually be nicer than the Cuotas (I haven’t been there recently but the Libre between Tijuana and Ensenada was at one time a little paradise on earth in the springtime).The trouble is, when traveling through unfamiliar territory, how are you going to know? The cautious traveler will usually elect the Cuota the first time around, especially if driving a large vehicle or towing something.

Apart from safety considerations, the Cuotas offer two notable amenities as consolation for the staggering fees they charge.

The first is that they usually have really nice bathrooms, which after all one would hope, at those prices.

An even greater convenience is that most Cuotas will take US dollars in payment, and give you change in pesos. If you find yourself running out of pesos, this can save endless hours of searching for banks or casas de cambio in strange towns. The Cuota stations usually have the (generally reasonable) exchange rate posted prominently on the booth. Some, but not all, will take only $20 bills or smaller. In the many, many toll stations we have passed through in the last two years, I remember seeing only one or two that did not accept dollars.

Mexican toll roads charge by a formula which is posted, with helpful pictures, on the approach to the toll booths. Basically they charge by the number of axles you have, as far as I can figure. So if you’re towing a trailer or driving something with lots of wheels, expect to pay more. On our most recent travels with a cargo trailer, about nine months ago, a cheap toll would be about 19 pesos (~$1.90 USD), an expensive one well in excess of 100 pesos (~$10.00 USD). I seem to recall a couple $20+ tolls. There is no apparent rhyme or reason to the charges with relation to distance; some 19-peso tolls were good for hours of happy motoring, whereas some of the “omigod, 15 bucks!!!” ones paid for only a half-hour stretch.

Driving a gas-guzzling V8 pickup, as we have been doing, and pulling a two-axle cargo trailer, we have found toll charges add up to somewhere between one-half and three-fourths of the amount we pay for gas. If you’re planning to use toll roads when driving in Mexico, be sure to include a generous amount for them in the budget!

Believe me, the toilet situation has improved tremendously over the last thirty years since I first visited Mexico. It still, however, has a way to go.

The whole toilet thing is not much of an issue when you are settled in your own house, but it looms large when traveling. Toilet availability in Mexico is quite good these days; all Pemex stations have Sanitarios, although they vary in cleanliness and amenities, and most Cuota (highway toll collection) stations have decent bathrooms. Most restaurants of the sit-down variety also have some kind of facilities, and more upscale places may feature gorgeous examples of tilework in the local style. The main things to be aware of if depending on public toilets are 1) paper; 2) seats; 3) water; 4) soap; 5) attendants.

1) Paper. Some got it, some don’t. ALWAYS carry your own paper, just in case. TIP: Check for a large roll somewhere near the entrance of the bathroom, as many places will have a full roll there, and empty rollers in all the stalls. And after you have used the paper, don’t forget to throw it in the trash bin provided. Never throw paper into a Mexican toilet, unless there’s no trash bin, which might or might not indicate that it’s okay. It can be disconcerting, but even the most elegantly appointed hotel bathroom will have the inevitable wastebasket next to the toilet.

Paper towels are much less likely to be provided. Use your clothing or air dry. Some places have those annoying blower things.

2) Seats. For some mysterious reason, many Mexican public toilets do not have seats. I don’t know if this is because they’re easier to clean that way, or because they think people will steal them, but it can be an unpleasant surprise at times. When traveling, always take full advantage of any good bathroom you happen on. Not to get too personal, but a couple tips for the ladies – skirts are easier to manage than trousers, especially if the floor happens to be wet. Have paper ready in one hand, and hang on to the tank or the wall with the other hand if your leg muscles aren’t quite up to the challenge.

And speaking of seats, if you are a devotee of those paper toilet-seat covers so universally available in the US, forget finding them in Mexico; we’ve seen them only one time in the course of all our considerable travels.

3) Water. All the bathrooms I’ve seen have had sinks, but occasionally the sink will not have water. Many sinks have two faucets but only one will be operative. In places with multiple sinks, check each of them — one might be working. When there’s no water anywhere, it’s nice to have some of those little travel towels in the car.

4) Soap. Although soap dispensers are often in evidence, they seldom contain soap. Carry your own if this is important to you.

5) Attendants. Some toilets will have an attendant hanging around, doing cleaning chores. Occasionally there will be a tip cup on the washstand, but other times it is less clear what is expected. I usually donate a couple of pesos. Some places will have a sign stating a fee at the door (usually 2-5 pesos), and an attendant to collect it up front. I have encountered one pay toilet (remember those, with the coin slot on the door?) at a cuota station, outrageously priced at 10 pesos (~$1 usd!).

Bathrooms are pretty easy to find when shopping in the city. All the bigger stores and supermarkets feature bathrooms which are usually decently equipped (Home Depot, Wal-Mart, Soriana, etc.), and clean, although it’s always a good idea to carry your own paper.

What kind of refrigerator will we need in Mexico?

This varies depending on where you’ll be living. In most parts of Mexico, it is not only possible, but one of the pleasures of living here, to shop for fresh food on a daily basis either in the local mercado or in handy tienditas. So a big honking refrigerator is not the necessity it is in the states where you have to get it over with once a week what with all the other demands of job, commuting, etc. This is good news, because electricity is very expensive in Mexico and the less your refrigerator needs, the better. (If shopping for a new one, seek out the best energy-efficiency rating.)

If you will be living in a hot area, you’ll probably want ample freezer space for making or storing ice cubes. I’d never noticed this before, but freezers come in different sizes proportionate to the refrigerator part, so think out your priorities in this regard.

If you’re living in a remote area, where you depend on forays to the big city for a large number of items, a bigger unit would be in order, despite the extra cost to run it. You might even find yourself dreaming about a freezer. A few bags of frozen mangos and strawberries from Costco began to seem infinitely alluring to me, a former fresh-food snob, after a few months of blackened bananas and an occasional withered apple being the only selection in town.

TIP: I’ve noticed that people keep a bag or two of ice in their freezers to maintain adequate cooling during power cuts (which are more frequent in the summer months). So don’t buy anything TOO small, or you won’t have any room left for the food.

Should you bring it or buy it in Mexico? Like all electronic appliances, refrigerators tend to be more expensive here, but you can find deals if you shop around. Buying in January can be good. Mexican refrigerators have energy-efficiency ratings on the label just like those in the US. The other thing to weigh is the cost of bringing your own – gasoline, trailer space, etc. Also, refrigerators are delicate and need to be moved standing up. We have bought two refrigerators here (we sold the first one when we moved from Yucatan because it wouldn’t fit in our cargo trailer standing up), and they have both been fine, quality-wise, unlike Mexican-bought stoves which sport great features like six burners and griddles, but seem inferior in manufacture and materials. LG, Samsung, and Mabe are a few brands that refrigerators come in. They’re available in all sizes and various colors, including the chic stainless-steel look, for a price, of course.

The first thing to be aware of is that all stoves run off propane in Mexico (I’m excluding wood stoves here, which are still common in some parts.) I’ve never seen an electric stove here, and I’ve done a fair amount of appliance shopping. (You do see electric hot plates.) The reason for all the stoves being propane has probably to do with the high expense of electricity (not to mention unreliability of the supply).

So, if you’re thinking to bring your own stove, make sure it’s a gas stove. And make sure it will run okay on propane (aka LP gas) by contacting the manufacturer. And (IMPORTANT) get whatever kit or supplies you need to do the changeover while still in the states. If at this point you’re asking if it’s worth the hassle, I will reply that yes, it probably is.

Because Mexican stoves simply do not seem to be of as good quality as those found in the states. They’re often a lot more attractively designed, and those things that go over the burners are easier to clean, and many of them come with six burners which is really dandy, and they have nifty griddles (parillas) that fit over two of the burners so you can do your carne asada right on the stove. Drool-worthy features, all. HOWEVER.

These stoves are just kind of… cheesy. The metal is paper-thin, and insulation and seals are lacking. Big-time lacking. When running the oven, the stove becomes almost too hot to touch, including the oven handle and burner controls.

If you end up shopping for one of these, be aware that not all models have a broiler on the bottom. They all LOOK like they have got, but many have just storage spaces down there. So if you want a broiler, make sure the one you’re getting has an asador.

The stove we bought (a sexy black Acros with 6 burners, a parilla, and an asador) has various levels for oven racks, but came with only one rack. So far I have not pursued trying to find a second rack. The parilla works great, but the asador has been something of a disappointment; it seems to take forever to get hot enough to brown anything.

Another thing that differs from your usual US stove is the lighting mechanism. Our stove has a semi-electronic feature for this. You hold down the top part of a little button while turning on the gas with the other hand, and sparks shoot out of all six burners, and eventually the burner with the gas coming out will light. Most of the time. Sometimes it helps to blow on it a bit. After a time you develop a technique of sorts, it’s hard to describe. You can also (mercifully, say I) just light the damned thing with a lighter. Which is how you light stoves lacking this electronic feature. Or what you do when the electricity goes off. Curiously, pushing the bottom part of the lighter-button turns on the oven light. So if you have the oven light on, and you light another burner on the stove, the oven light goes off and you have to light it again. A minor inconvenience, to be sure. The oven, by the way, does not share the electronic lighting feature and must be lit with a lighter.

One more thing found on seemingly all Mexican stoves of recent manufacture is child-proof dials. Fortunately you have to do something to activate these and I usually manage not to do it accidentally, but the next time I do I may need to consult the owner’s manual again. Hope I can find it.

We have had our stove for almost two years now, and have had only one major problem with it. It started leaking gas after we’d had it about 10 months. As it was still under warranty, we were able to contact the manufacturer about this and they duly sent someone out. Now, the MG, who is Mr. Fixit Extraordinaire, had already identified the source of the leak using the soap-bubble technique, which was A Lucky Thing, because by the time the technician arrived, it was no longer doing it (in the manner of cars which you take to the mechanic and they quit malfunctioning). Also lucky was that the technician believed the MG, and replaced the part on that burner, and lo and behold, no more gas smell!

Until the next time, a month or so later, and this time the MG couldn’t locate the source of the leak. He called the company again, and they couldn’t either, and we had to disconnect the gas every night so we wouldn’t be gassed to death, and the warranty was about to run out, and the MG spent hours and HOURS on the phone raving about why they did not have any more testing equipment than borrowing dish soap from us, and what were they planning to do about this problem, and finally they sent someone and just changed the gizmos on all six burners, and that was the end of that. And so far it’s been okay since then, which was a little less than a year ago.

By the way, kiss your notions of customer service a fond goodbye; it’s pretty much nonexistent here. And if you don’t speak really good Spanish (or know someone who does and who likes you a lot) – sheesh. We counted ourselves lucky because they actually fixed the problem and we didn’t have to throw away the stove and buy another.

To conclude, if you have a decent stove you’re fond of, and if it can be converted to use with propane, you might want to consider bringing that baby along with you.

Oddly enough, I have not found the same drawbacks to Mexican refrigerators or washing machines, which seem to be of comparable quality to their stateside counterparts.

I was remembering a cookbook writer, Huntley Dent, the other morning as I combed the town for enough food for a couple days’ worth of dinners. Huntley Dent’s book is entitled Feast of Santa Fe: Cooking of the American Southwest, and a wonderful book it is (tragically lost to me now, with so many of its brethren, in the Great Pre-Move Book Unloading). A particularly memorable part is where he discusses some dishes traditionally eaten in the days preceding Christmas in tones of truly inspired poetry and longing for their simple goodness, their rustic wholesomeness, their utter foreignness to anything we eat today, in Santa Fe or out of it. “I WANT THAT FOOD,” I remember him writing, and he made me want it too. Of course I already wanted it, which is why I’d bought the book — but you know what I mean. (Actually I once lived in New Mexico, but that’s another story.)

My point here is that the sudden memory of this book caused me to snort out loud at my simple-life fantasies of yore, realizing that the Sonoran village where we now live is probably very similar to Santa Fe of 100 years ago. The chief difference being Sonora has beef and Santa Fe had pork.

A discerning reader glancing over these 10 feasts of Christmas as I think they were called, would quickly note that they all consisted of the same three or four ingredients, done up in slightly differing ways. There was pork, beans, flour tortillas, red chile, and I think green chile, although frankly he may have been stretching it there because there wouldn’t be any green chile by December, unless people canned it back then. Which I suppose is possible. It makes for romantic reading, all right — but don’t try it at home. Unless you’re forced to. Simplicity is all very well and something I aspire to, but I start getting health problems if I can’t eat some vegetables on a regular basis.

Our current location is actually paradise compared to the neighboring town where we spent the summer. There, you could buy beef one day a week, IF you arrived early enough. Sleep till 8 and you’d miss out. There was no pork, fish, chicken, lamb, or goat available at any time, ever. Vegetable selection was exceedingly limited and miserable in quality. Nobody in town sold butter. Here at least, we can get butter, a few more vegetables including broccoli, and beef/pork/chicken/fish most days of the week, but it still drives me crazy.

Do let me clarify that this situation is NOT typical of Mexico as a whole, far from it. The entire southern half of Mexico is blessed with colorful, overflowing central markets in most towns and a wealth of regional cuisines. The ranch country to the north, however, has far more austere traditions in food. If you’re attached to your eating habits, be sure to check out the local food shopping before settling on an area.

As my predilection is for a more or less Mediterranean-type diet, the lack of vegetables presents a real problem. I can stock up on olive oil, decent parmesan, and vino in the city (along with Friskies and kitty litter), and I can make my own bread. But the only real solution I can see for the vegetables is to learn to grow them myself. Stay tuned.