I shall sleep late…until 6:30 a.m. That’s after the “first shift” of 1:30 to 3:30 a.m.
As I drive out, the valley is at its peak of beauty, with green fields and pink cosmos, below mountain peaks holding swirls of clouds.
First, I shall go to Panadería La Espiga to buy teleras, crisp crusted and still warm from the oven.
Then shop at Tienda Don Chucho’s for provolone ahumado y chorizo seco.
Next door is the little fruit and vegetable stand which so conveniently avoids the hassles of Pátzcuaro’s main mercado.
I will eat a plato grande de birria de borrego y dos tortillas del comal grandes at Birrería Don Prisci’s by El Parian, and drink a jugo de naranja grande.
I wil shop at Bodega Aurrerá early, and for as short a time as possible.
I will be smart, and not drive up into Pátzcuaro Centro where parking is tough and some streets may be blocked for the simultaneous celebration of the Anniversary of the Founding of Pátzcuaro and my birthday.
On the way home I would stop near Tzurumutaro near the Pollos Asados Tejaban place.) at Tienda de Abarrotes “Los Fresnos” for water and eggs.
Once home, I would take a nap.
Much later, our amigas/cleaning ladies, Sra. Salud and daughter, Miriam, will prepare a comida for us and a few guests. Things are held up for a couple of hours, the guest list changes every 30 minutes or so, the hostesses “borrow” an onion, a cup of vinegar, some casseroles, and so forth, pero, ni modo. Como México, no hay dos.
Comida consists of a couple of tasty varieties of tostadas (yes, one topping has hot dog bits in it, but it tastes good.) I have impulsively made pizza, with three or four toppings among them. I make ensalada de nopalitos, which is delicious but babosa. (Slimy, drooly.) We will drink pitchers of agua fresca de jamaica. Our dessert will be various gelatinas en cacerola, with fresh fruits cut up onto it, and strawberry yogurt.
See slideshow for details.
The guests will sing “Las Mañanitas” to me.
September 29 brought a surprise. After resting much of the day, I decided in the later afternoon to take a little walk. I scarcely had reached the church on our street, when I heard mariachi music coming from the house of Miguel and Sara, set back from the street. I followed my curiosity and found the source of the music and merriment. People were dancing, There were many I know, including the lively and friendly couple that plies the roads in their truck, selling cleaning supplies.
The hosts invited me to partake of the music, a jáibol and afterwards, some mole de pollo y corundas. I was given a place of honor next to Don Miguel, 82 years old, as my name is "Miguel" also*. I even got a request song, "La Negra", played by the mariachis. After, of course, "La Mañanitas".
*Now, revealed for the first time in years, my real name is Don Miguel de las Cuevas.
