Mexican food is not a costume for parties; it is a daily ritual of grinding nixtamal for tortillas, a corn that has been washed with lime and ash to free its soul and its nutrition. A real meal might be a simple bowl of black beans with *chile de árbol* and a stack of those warm tortillas, or a humble, labour-intensive mole that takes two days and toasts twenty-eight ingredients, including the chocolate my neighbour grows. I see tourists photographing colourful tacos, but my life is here, in the smell of corn husks steaming and in the fact that salsa is not one thing, but the fresh *verde* from the market today and the cooked *roja* I learned from my grandmother.
#food
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