It is absolutely astounding to behold the versatility of his palate. He will happily snack on the placenta and seeds of a habanero chile — rated on anybody’s scale at Volcano Heat — chow down on a lime wedge, cracking the seeds, chewing the rind and sucking the juice before discarding the remains… he adores Oaxacan black mole (no denying his taste), carnitas (crispy pork bits), freshly made tortillas — what else have you got to eat over there??? He doesn’t overlook the obvious, and his eyes flash golden at the prospect of a string of canteloupe seeds or a chunk of green apple, Romaine ribs, cherry tomatoes or fresh sugar cane.
The amazing thing is, Mexico was never handled until the last two years when he came to live with me. It took about that long to convince him, little by little, to come out of his cage and enter the wonderful world of Mexican cooking. But believe me, once he came out he REALLY came out — there’s no going back! He starts his day with a plaintive call to install him on his kitchen perch, where he starts right in sampling whatever is cooking for the day. I believe the bird has found his calling!
“¡Que bonita es la vida cuando nos da de sus riquezas!”
– Frida Kahlo