The lettuce we grew this winter was a huge success.  We were inundated with the stuff (but oh so happily).  We grew Romaine and butter varieties, both from seeds bought here in Mexico at Home Depot.  The Romaine did somewhat better.  We planted it in a couple different spots, and the sunnier spot produced noticeably more and bigger lettuces.  I was amazed at how it grew in such cold weather.  We were really sad when lettuce season ended.

Basil from seed bought several years ago failed to start, but a newer packet started quickly and has flourished since.

Lavender and rosemary seeds from packets both failed to start at all (sniff).  Better luck next year!

Parsley started and three plants provided a continual harvest until about a week ago; I think it’s finally gotten too hot for it.

I was unable to find any tomato seeds to buy (and forget about plants, they don’t seem to exist here, or maybe I just don’t know where to find them), so I squeezed the seeds out of a couple tomatoes from the grocery store and they actually came up.  Since that supremely exciting moment, however, things have gone downhill.  I ended up transplanting five plants, two Roma types and three round.  One plant produced only one tomato and gave up.  The other four have produced quite a lot.  Unfortunately, they refuse to ripen properly.  We’ve been told variously that they have too much sun and too much water.  Probably both.  Also, of course, they’re the offspring of hybrids never meant to reproduce.  We’re probably lucky they didn’t sprout legs and come devour us in our sleep.

Seeds from a grocery store cantaloupe came up and grew into a beautiful plant which flowered but, alas, has produced no fruit at all.

Some friends gave us cucumber seeds last month which we planted directly outside.  They quickly turned into a jungle and are producing like crazy.

I’ve never done any gardening except for growing tomatoes in the Bay Area back in the 80s, which was akin to shooting fish in a barrel — buy plants at store, stick in the ground, water occasionally, harvest perfect tomatoes for 6 months.  O California!

This time around, I’ve referred mostly to Mel Bartholomew’s All New Square Foot Gardening, and Extreme Gardening: How to Grow Organic in the Hostile Deserts by Dave Owens, the Phoenix-based guru for our Sonoran desert climate zone.  We have one 6×4-foot  square-foot type box, built by the Mexigringo, which has held lettuce, tomatoes, parsley, basil, and cucumbers.  We have two tomato plants in kitty litter bins and some flowerpots with basil.  All of these containers are filled with pure compost. The best container by far, however, has turned out to be an old concrete planter about 5 feet in diameter which used to house a tree.   We put about six inches of compost over the top of the existing dirt.  Everything we have grown in there has done noticeably better, I think because the dirt underneath maintains moisture better.  The wooden box with only six inches of compost is hard to keep adequately watered in this climate — things seem to alternately fry and drown.

I found tons of inspiration, courage, and the proper spirit of adventure for this undertaking with Anita Sands Hernandez, the queen of frugal gardening, at her fascinating website here.

Even though much of what we’ve managed to grow could be described more properly as garnishes or herbs than food,  it’s made a huge difference in the quality of our meals.  Parsley, especially, adds a freshness, flavor and color to items like potatoes, rice and sauces which is truly cheering to the vegetable-deprived.

In all, it’s been a great learning experience, and probably the most worthwhile thing I’ve done all year.  Free (almost), fresh food!  Organic, even.  I can’t wait until I can plant more lettuce again.

I think I may be the last idiot in the world who reads instruction pamphlets.  I also notice, and often obey, warnings and instructions posted on signs.  For someone who is skeptical to the point of paranoia about everything else I read or hear, this is a curious blind spot indeed.  Maybe it’s my innate mistrust of mechanical things.

Anyway, what to do with all that popcorn?  It was twice as much as I could reasonably eat.  I valiantly tried one time — bad idea.  I guiltily threw away half another day, but that just felt too wicked.  I tried to think of other uses for the extra — string it into curtains or door dividers?  Save it for packing material in case we move?  The specter of attracting rats dampened my enthusiasm for these ideas.

As usual, it was the Mexigringo to the rescue about the fourth Saturday on, as he was making his guacamole while I whined about him leaving me in the popcorn lurch.

MG:  So just make half the amount.

Me:  But the instructions say you have to…..

MG:  Just – TRY – it.

Me:  (snivel, grumble)

Well, guess what folks?  The instruction book lies!  The machine will pop half of the prescribed amount with no problem at all.

You know, it was bad enough getting used to the news being all lies.  But the freaking popcorn instructions?????

Notable mostly by their absence this year are the ants, whose movements seem to be related to the rain.  Last year, when it rained every afternoon, the ants would soon follow, marching in great columns across the tile floors, up and down the high walls, to our kitchen.  They were thoughtful in usually arriving after dinnertime, which allowed me to ignore them.

We take a pretty laissez-faire approach to bugs here — after all, we live next to a milpa.   I dislike using poisons around the house, and I  hate killing things.  And anyway they’ve got us way outnumbered.  The bugs mostly go their way and we go ours — peaceful coexistence, you might say.

Well, there are a few exceptions.  I’ve stomped on a scorpion or two, a purely reflex reaction.  Lala the Fearless Killer Tabby is fond of scorpions — for lunch.  I worry she might get bitten but she hasn’t so far.  She also hunts centipedes, as does the Mexigringo.  Spiders suspected of being black widows are eliminated rather heartlessly.  And when the cutter ants show up to ravage the garden, the Mexigringo brings out the big guns, a lethal powder from the hardware store. In August and September, when the flies arrive and somehow get past our screens, we both pursue them with rolled-up newspapers, while the bored tabby looks on.

Lala the Fearless Killer Tabby

But otherwise, it’s live and let live.  The ants are welcome to the kitchen when I’m not using it.  The myriad flying beasties mostly hover around the lights, twelve feet up, although they’ve been so thick lately they will crash land into cooking pots, so I’ve taken to keeping things covered.  We look carefully when reaching into any basket — scorpions adore baskets.  The Mexigringo got stung last summer when going for his keys.  A quick internet search revealed this unlikely to be fatal to an adult and recommended icing.  Now we look first.

The most unwelcome bugs are the ones that get into the food.  O the dismay of finding that disgusting spiderwebby stuff in a box of cornmeal you’ve been hoarding for months!  According to my research (whatever would I do without the internet??), those bugs are there in the meal all along — it’s just that they hatch in warm, humid conditions.  This can supposedly be prevented by freezing the product for a day or two, which kills off the larvae,  so I’ve started doing this with everything in sight — flour, masa harina, chile powder, rice.

Unfortunately I only noticed the rice was harboring uninvited guests weeks after buying a six-pack of 1-lb. bags at one of those big stores.  Freezing doesn’t seem to have fazed the rice critters, or maybe I got there too late.   In any case, it’s a real pain getting them out.  I’ve been picking over the dry rice on a plate, then rinsing it in a strainer, then putting it in a bowl of water, whereupon, encouraged with a little judicious stirring, the little buggers will float towards the top and can be scooped off with a spoon.   Unfortunately the starch in the rice quickly impairs visibility, making frequent changes of water necessary.  It’s kind of distasteful but what else to do?  I’m not going to throw away five bags of rice.  The good news is that here in Mexico, for once in my life I have time:  luxurious, blessed, beautiful time, to de-critter the rice, to observe the ways of the ants, to smell the flowers as they say.  I consider myself supremely fortunate in this.  And if a worm or two evades my search, well hey, it’s free protein.  Or as the old Spanish saying goes, lo que no mata, engorda (what doesn’t kill you, nourishes you).

When I didn’t have hot water in the winter, I would heat a pan of water to use for the washing, and only have to suffer through the freezing rinse.  With hindsight, I suppose rubber gloves might have helped some, but it didn’t occur to me at the time.

Here’s a trick I learned from my Yucatecan mother-in-law:  Cold-water washing can leave a bad-tasting (and probably toxic) soap film on dishes; to prevent this, be sure when rinsing to pass your hand over the dish, which apppears to break the film.  I have no idea of the scientific basis of this, but it definitely seems to work.

When we first moved to tropical Yucatan, I faithfully disinfected anything that was not going to be cooked, i.e. salad stuff.  I used iodine (yodo) until I got a horrified look from the lady in the farmacia when I revealed what I wanted it for, and then moved on to the new silver-based, special purpose Microdyn, which is supposedly nontoxic.  It can also be used to purify drinking water.  I have no idea how effective it is, but it seems to have become very popular and appears to be marketed to restaurants in giant-sized jugs at Sam’s and Costco.

I do think in the tropics disinfecting is probably important.  Nasty bugs of all descriptions flourish in those climes, and they could well be lurking in your vegetables.  Better to be safe.

After moving to Sonora, however, I had an epiphany of sorts while getting ready to disinfect a tomato one night.  This tomato, it occurred to me, was identical in provenance to countless tomatoes we’d consumed in Tucson for years and years, with never a thought of disinfecting them.  Probably 90% of the tomatoes sold in Tucson supermarkets come from Mexico.   Do they somehow lose their Mexican cooties by virtue of crossing the border?  I think not.

I haven’t disinfected a tomato since.

Ironically, I have been disinfecting our homegrown lettuce because it’s grown in compost — just in case.  And I still disinfect supermarket lettuce.  I never disinfect cabbage, though, just remove the outer leaves.  I doubt  millions of taco-vendors do, so why should I?

Another factor to weigh is how trustworthy is the water in which you wash the vegetables.  (The Microdyn bottle makes a big point of the fact that you don’t have to rinse off the Microdyn with possibly bad water after disinfecting.)  As we’ve  had no problems in more than four years brushing our teeth with Mexican tap water, I don’t worry about it.

The truth is, many of the health hazards Mexico is so famous for are really not much of an issue anymore.  The Mexican government has done a bang-up job of getting potable water to the people, including in the most remote and tiny villages (even though many still decline to drink it), and much of the food (sadly) is grown by agribiz.   Common sense, as usual, seems the best approach.

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.

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.

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.