Botanas Bar

What Mark thinks about, more than anything, is food. When we get up in the morning, he immediately starts peppering me with ideas for tonight’s dinner, while all I’m trying to do is find the coffee machine. Drives me completely nuts...

This obsession extends, of course, to travel. I generally “get” to make all the reservations and arrangements, while he spends his hours crafting the perfect culinary experience. A well-prepared vacationer, as far as he is concerned, has restaurant reviews, menus and recipes all filed away on the computer, plus dozens of Ziploc bags, full of Penzey’s spices, in the carry-on. He used to bring the chef’s knife, as well, but TSA told him cut that out.

And, I’ve got to admit, we have experienced all sorts of great food that we probably wouldn’t have, otherwise. Yet, even with all that preparation, there’s one aspect of foodie travel that can still come as a great and welcome surprise: apart from the food itself, there’s the local culture around food. Not so much what you eat, but how you eat it.

Take Italy. The ristorante owner in Cinque Terre who herded us into his back-room bar to recount his experience as a New York cabbie. All the while plying us with homemade grappa, till we could barely walk – much less, drive – back home.

Or France. Where else would we enjoy a four-hour, 12-course lunch, served by a waiter who regaled us with the inferiority of American bread while simultaneously sneaking us un-billed glasses of extraordinary wine?

Best of all, perhaps: Spain. Tapas is simply the perfect model for food – who wouldn’t want to eat tasty little snacks all day long? And take a nap in the afternoon. Then have another meal, with the entire family in tow, outdoors, around midnight. Before going out dancing.

This blog entry celebrates yet another food culture that we discovered in Merida, Mexico: the botanas bar, meaning literally, “snack bar”. Here’s how it works: You order a beer, or its even tastier variant, the Michelada. With beverage, you get a simple little snack, complimentary. Order another beer, and along with that comes another appetizer, somewhat more elaborate than the first. You keep repeating this for as many beers as you can handle, snacks becoming more and more substantial, until you’ve basically eaten (and drunk) dinner. But – and here’s the kicker – you only pay for the beer!

Why aren’t there botanas bars everywhere, I want – nay, demand to know?

My husband says: We owe a great deal of this issue to other people’s recipes. If you don’t already know Diana Kennedy’s meticulously researched and instructive books on Mexican cuisine, I highly recommend you give them a try.  

Also, thanks and love to Michelle, for her Churros!

Finally, hey – one absolutely must bring one’s own spices on a trip; it costs a fortune to buy them there, not to mention the huge waste ‘cause you can’t possibly use the whole jar. Just sayin’.