Mexico has a lot to answer for when it comes to food and weight. There is a reason why the country ahs the world’s highest rate if child obesity, and it’s certainly not laziness or a lack of Jamie Oliver campaigning. It’s because the food here is so friggin’ good. Food is such a great part of the culture: the women spend their days cooking, for their family, visitors, or paying customers. Every other shop is a restaurant, or ‘antojitos’ (snacks) outlet, and every fiesta or religious celebration is celebrated with food – even the dead get their share of tasty goods when it comes round to the Day of the Dead (which also involves everyone heading down to the cemetery to share a meal). It’s difficult to find a Mexican who isn’t either eating, about to eat, preparing food to eat, or has just eaten and so is rubbing their belly. This is why I feel so at home here. I’m yet to leave my room without my Mexican mum or siblings trying to coerce me into eating something, and my well-learned and practised English ways of generally saying no on polite principle have long vanished.
Not only am I eating truckloads of delicious tacos, memelas (Mexican pizza), tostadas (crispy tortillas with topping), tamales, stuffed chillis, soups, stews and a multitude of other marvellous concoctions, I’m slowly starting to learn how to make them too. I’ve already chopped and stirred my way to tacos chiflados (mad tacos), constructed Carlotas (creamy biscuit pudding), husked the corn for tamales and observed the lengthy process, chopped a LOT of onions to go in salsa and been promised many more delights to come. Don’t worry, I started running last week.
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