I find it hard to believe that a week ago at this time, I was somewhere over the United States on my way back to Montréal. That already I completed a full week back at work. And that as much as Esposo’s home in Mexico City is my home as well, I completely felt at home returning to Montréal after so many years of calling Halifax home.
Like I predicted, first I’m missing being with Esposo, but second I’m missing la comida mexicana. Fortunately, aside from the only slop I could find to eat at Newark, I haven’t swallowed back bland, overly processed crap since I’ve been back. But there’s a distinctive Mexican flavour that can’t easily be found here. I suspect it could be replicated for the most part here, mind you; it’s just a matter of doing some research in terms of both recipes and ingredients.
In Canada, we tend to think of Mexican food as very piquante, which of course it can be, but I think what I miss the most is its richness and diversity. However, although it can be very rich — as Esposo brought me to observe, many Mexicans are on the wrong side of their optimum weight as a result — I always return from Mexico a few pounds lighter. My theory is that my metabolism is receptive to the wholesomeness of the ingredients, which offsets the fattiness. “Du bon gras,” as Cleopatrick would say jokingly — good fat, although literally so in this case.
Several evenings this week, he and I went to the Village for a decaf and to see what’s happening down there — good and bad. On Thursday while sitting at the Second Cup, we witnessed a nasty fistfight featuring a slender, underaged, screaming hormonal babe/godzilla in a tight dress and an annoyed middle-aged fag. It wasn’t pretty. But shortly afterwards as we were heading to the car to come back home, I finally met Torn and his spouse in person, which was bound to happen. That makes him the second blogger I’ve met whom I didn’t previously know in person, the first one being Brian who will be attending a conference in Mexico City shortly and whom Esposo will be greeting at the airport.
Funny how people meet in this day and age. On my last full day in Mexico, Esposo and I met Rob and Shelley on the Turibus. Esposo struck up a conversation with the Isle of Wight couple as the bus manoeuvred through traffic gridlock during a tropical downpour, and invited them to continue our chat over drinks at home. The young duo is on a ’round-the-world trip that started nearly three months ago that will only end in April 2009. While meeting them in this way could be construed as quite traditional, we hope to keep track of their journey through Facebook and, who knows, meet again one day on their turf.
The stuff life is made of, I remind myself as day-to-day life continues in Mexico City and Montréal.