Saints and Food Choices

Now comes the tough part. Plot and Duck have to decide whether to eat at the Hotel Colonial tonight, for their last vacation meal, and where they`d been dreaming of returning since they sopped up the last drop of Mole Poblano with their last tortilla last Saturday night, OR to return to the Casa de los Munecos, where they stumbled in last night, a few blocks away, where there is not only live guitar music but food every bit as good as the Colonial.



Duck´s pipian verde de pollo last night was another example of how you never taste Mexican food outside of Mexico, not the real stuff that is so labor intensive. Last night´s waiter, Alejandro, took pains to bring the bus boy to the table, to announce with pride that the pipian sauce (made with pumpkin seeds, green tomatoes, garlic, various chilies, cilantro and other herbs plus who knows what else) as well as the restaurant´s own red mole, came from recipes and ingredients from this boy´s unpronounceable Mixtec village up in the mountains. They bring basket of hot tortillas after basket of hot tortillas to the table so you won´t leave any sauce on your plate, and if you ask what any other particular dish is like, they bring some out of the kitchen for you to taste. That yellow flower is actually an onion.

Tough decision tonight, either way it´s a win.



Today was a ride in a van out to the village of Cholula. Plot and Duck saw one Olmec church in the little town of Tonantztitlan that was probably the most beautiful church they´ve ever seen, with centuries-old carvings of vaguely Catholic mostly-Indian saints all over the walls and ceilings like someone´s inspired dream of an extremely convoluted paradise.



There are thousands of carvings on the ceiling of this small church, all done by hand through the years by indigenous people. The love that goes into work like this is awe inspiring.

Plotnik is usually dismayed, if not disgusted, by the worlds' huge cathedrals; at the same time he is inspired by small, local churches, mosques or synagogues, the old ones on the back streets that don´t have much glitz but are awash in soul. Tonantztitlan´s has that feeling, like the backyard mosque in Sirince, Turkey or Saint Chapelle in Paris with all the stained glass, or John Adams´s church in Quincy, Mass or the synagogue in Singapore, none of which have any gold or ornate fixings but all feel like you could walk in in your slippers and have that private conversation you really need, and that you might get an answer.



Yes, there are presents. It has been a grand week. Tomorrow we see the Birthday Girl in Stiletto City, el PD, la 5H y La Nene Isabella. Amores.