fiddling with the soup

Tradition is hard to break.  And Mexico is a land of traditions.


You could re-write Fiddler on the Roof into a Catholic passion play, and it would play line for line in my little village.


This week I decided to make some white chili -- with chicken,white beans, onions, oregano, cumin seeds, and loads of our local peppers.  While I was at the store, I changed my mind about the chicken.  Ham sounded better.


OK.  I know it simply sounds like spicy pork and beans.  But I wanted ham.  It was comfort food.


I should have stuck with the chicken.  Here is the problem.


I only needed enough ham to make a stock pot of chili.  The size of one of those little hams that populate Safeway meat coolers.


But there is no Safeway in Melaque.  And the only hams I have seen are the size of the Oxford dictionary -- the unabridged edition.


This is Mexico, though.  There is a solution for everything.


My local market sells sliced ham for sandwiches.  Real ham.  Most of what passes for ham sandwich meat around here had a snood and wattle while it was alive.  Almost to a slice, it is made from turkey. 


Even though it is next to impossible to find sliced turkey for sandwiches.  I don't even think about it any more.


The real ham slices come from a large ham displayed in the deli case.  The solution seemed too obvious.  Order a half kilogram of ham -- unsliced.


I had rehearsed my lines in Spanish with all of the assurance of being the opening act in the Cervantes Festival.


I delivered them to the clerk.  She just stared.  You could sense upside down question marks pocking the air.


I repeated my question.  Same response.


Knowing that slower and louder was the next tourist ploy, I instead decided on my best Marcel Marceau impression.  Nothing.  I then tried measuring the meat with my fingers.


That simply got a giggle.  But she was still perplexed.


And then it came to me.  This must be just like the hardware store.  Instead of telling her what I want, tell her what I want it for.  Let her be part of the solution.


I told her I wanted chunks of ham for a chili I was making.  Wrong ploy.  I am certain she envisioned me feeding ham to hungry peppers.


So, I made it easier.  I lied.  I told her I needed it for omelets.  After all, I use the same diced him when I cook eggs.


Her eyes lit up and she went to work.


While she worked on my order, I chatted with the store owner about the state of the village.  The clerk handed my my wrapped meat, and I was on my way home.


The chili was in full process when I opened the meat wrapper to discover -- sliced ham.  Just right for a sandwich.  Not so much for boiling liquid.


I started laughing.  In Mexico, almost all meat is cut very thin for quick grilling.  I forgot the same rule applies to meat in omelets.


There was no recourse but to use it .  And it tasted fine -- even though cubes would have been far better. 


But it is a good reminder that tradition will be served.


Even if it is thinly sliced.

Note: The photograph at the top of this post is not from my deli in Melaque.  It is from New York a couple of years ago.  One of the funniest marketing errors I have ever seen.