Why My Mexico? It sounds rather arrogant and possessive, doesn’t it? Well, the title came to me in a flash–and the more I thought about it, the more appropriate it seemed. After all, this book is about the Mexico I know. It is a highly personal, somewhat lopsided view from other people’s kitchens, where I seem to have spent an awful lot of time talking about food or actually cooking and eating with the families I visit.
When I first came to Mexico in 1957, I didn’t come as an anthropologist or to study the costumes, dances, fiestas, or pyramids that continue to fascinate and attract people from other lands. I came to get married to a foreign correspondent based in Mexico. The plan was to live there for a few years before moving on to some other beat. I brought with me no particular talent, just a love of good food and an abounding curiosity and restlessness. I was immediately enthralled by the markets and the exotic ingredients; very soon I fell under the spell of the incredible beauty of the countryside that produced such a wealth of foods. I could never get enough of those early journeys into remote parts of the country and still cannot, even today. Soon I had to admit a very strong addiction to Mexico.