An Ode to Mexican Food

Ah, Mexican food. How I do long for thee. Anyone from California living in New York knows the sadness at this city's surprising lack of Mexican food. The withdraw symptoms are very real, and its a very hot conversation topic among Californians who long for home.

But rather than write about how much I miss Mexican food, I thought it would be appropriate to have my friend Rachel compose a poem on the subject.

Here now is her Ode to Mexican Food:

Come now, friends, brethren –

     No matter the weather, the moment, the mood –

     Abandon whatever it was you were chomping

     (For surely such garbage will leave your soul wanting)

     And come hither to experience

     The holy grail

     Of mortal food.

     The French may have their tapenade

     And the Italians their wine

     There are a million ethnic foods

     Upon which millennials may dine

     But out of all the culinary Avalons

     Nirvanas, Meccas, and Babylons,

     You’ll never know heaven until you know

     The heaven you find

     Inside

     A questionable-looking alley

     In Mexico.

     But for the hungry NY sojourner

     There’s a plethora of places to get one’s fill

     Chipotle, El Toro, Taco Bell, etc.

     La Baja Mexican Grill

     But for all these options, I maintain

     It’s not truly authentic until you can say

     “You know, I’m not certain this doesn’t contain

     A trace of ground-up tongue

     And cow brain…”

     It’s not for all, this glory, pursued

     Narrow and steep is the high road, it’s true

     (For both moral paths

     And culinary avenues)

     Not all will give tortillas

     The reverence due.

      Some men, alas, are mortals, mere –

     And with every tantalizing bite

     Must follow a swig of milk

     And the taste of tears.

     But for those of us who have lived the dream

     Had the crowning achievement of earthly cuisine,

     Here’s how the secret to happiness goes:

     (The wisdom one country already knows)

     There’s no Hallmark moment sweeter than

     “That moment of utmost rapture when

     You’re handed a freshly-made

     Taco.”