You bet your sweet patootie they’re good.

You bet your sweet patootie they’re good.

I’d eaten sweet potatoes for a lot of years. Mostly smothered in butter and sprinkled with salt as the side to a roast of pork. Then I came to San Miguel de Allende and my tongue got all twisted around. In Mexico, the locals eat sweet potatoes as dessert. I thought...
Hoppin’ on down to Venencia. For chapulines.

Hoppin’ on down to Venencia. For chapulines.

It was my last night in San Miguel before heading up to Toronto for a few weeks. Don Day’s Wife was suffering some post-Covid blues so I asked a couple of my favorite guys to join me in my five o’clock ritual. “Venencia?”, said Jack, “never heard of it”. “It’s on...
Memories of Woolworth’s. At City Market. Really.

Memories of Woolworth’s. At City Market. Really.

A little over 60 years ago I entered the wonderful world of working. The most wonderful part…OK, maybe the only wonderful part…was the day that each and every week, Mr. O’Leary, aka Chief, would walk around with these little brown envelopes that were perfectly sized...
A feast for the eyes, the tongue and the wallet. At La Mar. 

A feast for the eyes, the tongue and the wallet. At La Mar. 

If you’re like me, you have grandkids. And if you’re like me, you’re constantly (and usually unsuccessfully) trying to lure them down to San Miguel de Allende. “But, Grampie, there’s no sand, no sea.” I’d been almost ready to try a somewhat shady tactic. “You come to...
Pilar Ortiz. And the power of personality.

Pilar Ortiz. And the power of personality.

I don’t remember their exact words. But it went something like this. “I don’t get Trip Advisor. A little hole in the wall like El Pato is constantly in the top ten and a gorgeous place like Bovine is down in the 200’s.” I could have taken it a step further. How can...