Hailstones

We scurried around in our flimsy summer clothes and rubber sandals, unplugging leaf-clogged drains so the deluge of water could exit from the patios.

Even though hailstorms are common here in summer, this one had a different feel to it.  I think we’re going to have a long, cold, and early winter this year.

Outside patio after hailstorm

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.

We’re planning to get another one on sale next week when we go shopping in the city.

Happy New Year to all — ¡Próspero Año Nuevo!

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.

A Year in Provence, by Peter Mayle. Somehow his glorious descriptions of their first year freezing their butts off in Provence seem ever so much more glamorous and appealing than our own experience freezing our butts off in Mexico. Must be all that wine and food they had. And, of course, the great humorous writing.

Winter in Majorca, by George Sand. Another winter-themed work. George Sand’s account of her sojourn with lover Frederic Chopin in a remote, deserted monastery in Majorca, freezing their butts off but oh so picturesquely. The book is also an interesting portrait of ethnocentricism (Sand’s) run riot.

Maggie Darling, by James Howard Kunstler. I originally bought this novel out of curiosity because I like the author’s nonfictional writings on Peak Oil, The Death of Suburbia, etc. This work of light fiction has Held Up Amazingly Well over three or four readings to date. I probably turn to it at this time of year because it’s set at Christmastime, but even if it wasn’t, I’d reread it. It’s well written and wickedly funny — enough to cheer me up in December, which is no small thing.

And we’ll all live happily ever after.