A Few Places T Eat In Mexico
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By Edgar Cayago
"Mexico-CIA WFB Map". Licensed under Public domain via Wikimedia Commons (*)
I plunged into the pulsing heart of Mexico the way that the obsidian blade of Montezuma’s priest
pierces the chest cavity of a sacrificial acolyte.
Bah. That passage was a bit purple. Let me start again.
I descended into Mexico’s wild interior like a Castilian feverishly possessed by God-love or in the
demonic grip by gold-lust.
Crap. Still too grandiloquent. Ctrl + Alt + Delete.
I alighted on the dusty ramshackle streets of Mexico like a Habsburg adventurer wishing to escape
from the constrictions of civilization to the excitement of the topsy-turvy.
Ugh. Why can’t I get this right? One more time.
I went down to Mexico, basically a Los Angeleno whose inability to habla Español was unimpeded by
el amor por la comida.
Why travel all the way south of the border to get Mexican food, you might ask? Can’t you just go down
to Guelaguetza on Olympic Blvd. for some delicious mole smothered meat (*if you haven’t been, you’re
denying yourself the po(st)-mo(dern) experience of eating Oaxacan cuisine in a building that looks like a
Korean temple)? And wouldn’t it be more expedient to simply cruise down to Ensenada’s Best Fish Tacos on
Vermont for some fried-fish-in-a-tortilla-with-fresh-salsa goodness? Or if you have a hangover hankering for a
bit of Yucatanic pibil (meats stewed at the glacial slowness of a Noh play), why not just park your culo on a
stool at Loteria Grill at the Fairfax Farmer’s Market?
All valid points – if you have a big L on your forehead. Mexico is where it’s at, homie (says the author
with one dismissive wave of the hand)!
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THE CONE - ISSUE #3 - AUTUMN 2014