At my one hippie friend from Michigan's birthday party the other weekend, some of her co-workers she's friends with showed up, including this one (Mexican) guy I've met once before at a bar.
For some reason people were talking about food, and he says the one thing that he misses about Mexico is how fresh everything is:
If you order chicken soup, he said, you pick out the chicken and they kill it right there.
If you need milk, he said, they milk it right there, and it's all foamy and perfect for capuccino.
He also said that he has a small potted habanero pepper plant at home, and he uses that for spice in his food, since it's spicier and better-tasting than what you get in stores.
I shared with him how my parents have been growing tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions off their porch, and how those fresh vegetables made the best salad when I was visiting them at the end of this summer.
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