By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
Dear Mexican: Why is it that every Mexican I know refuses to eat chocolate? My in-laws drink things I wouldn't clean my carburetor in. They fill their piñatas with every kind of hard candy — but no chocolate! Mole doesn't count. It has chocolate, sure, but chocolate held in check by the chelating effects of a boiled chicken. I mean the kind that my wife turns up her chato nose at. I asked her about this on Valentine's Day. I put it to her that chocolate comes from Mexico, and yet no one in her family will go near it. Is there something you people haven't been telling us?
Have you noticed that Mexicans who refuse chocolate remain basically normal? Meanwhile, white people — who named the Hershey's Bar after the site of the world's first nuclear meltdown — are disintegrating into madness? Is it paranoia to speak of a coming Chocolate Apocalypse? CONCERNED IN COLORADO
Dear Gabacho: Ever think your in-laws might be diabetic? Ever think that they won't eat American chocolate, which is essentially sugar colored with cacao? Do you know that the Mayas were making chocolate when the Aztecs were still living in the swamps? Chocolate is still huge in Mexico, but it's markedly more bitter, better and largely made in artisanal batches that vary in taste from region to region; even the biggest seller, Nestlé-owned Carlos V, is far better than anything you can get in the Estados Jodidos. Kudos to you, though, for working in "chelating" into your question, although the only part most Mexicans will get is the chela part.
I commute a lot in the Los Angeles area and see many Mexican gardeners with trucks filled to impossible heights with piled-up shrubbery, tree clippings and the like — but where are they taking all this refuse? I have several theories: that they are either driving around all day letting a branch drop one at a time until the truck bed is empty; that they are scouting dumpsters all over town that they can illegally dump their refuse into at night; or that the piles of greenery are actually hiding a newly smuggled batch of illegals. MULCH MAN
Dear Gabacho: No, we hide our illegals in fake trunks and scout dumpsters to toss in concrete. And those gardeners are taking their clippings to a place called the "municipal dump," which I hear has the same address as your brain.