Thursday, April 24, 2008

Sunday Morning, Yucatán

Food, instead of politics, for a change.

The Yucatán, which feels as Caribbean as it does Mexican, is to Mexico as Alsace is to France, as Sicily is to Italy, as Hawaii is to the United States: formally a part of the union, but culturally quite distinct, and with a well-preserved sense of identity.

My friends were already there, munching on tacos, and we joined them, ordering a bit of everything: a kind of salad of nopales (cactus leaves); an incredible mix of poblanos, potatoes and corn; a similar dish with chorizo; some warm mushrooms; a straightforward but quite tasty picadillo, ground meat with carrots and potatoes; and the seasonal romeritos, made from a plant that resembles rosemary but tastes like nettles. All were served on corn tortillas, which Sabrina brushed with lard before browning on the comal.

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