Mexican life

18 quiches, to go

quiche

MY CHILD BRIDE is a baker, a very good baker.

She hawks her wares downtown on the main plaza most Saturday afternoons. She does it for fun and profit, the profit going into a separate bank account that sports only her name, not mine. It’s her mad money.

On very rare occasion, she does special orders. That’s one in the photo, 18 individual quiches that were delivered to a private party Tuesday. They were ordered by a woman doctor who runs a chain of medical labs in town.

Finding quiche in this neck of the Mexican woods — well, probably in most parts of Mexico — is not easy to do. It was my suggestion in the first place, way back when.

Quiche, that is.

Many people who pass her basket downtown pause, point at the quiches, and ask: What is that? Pizza?

If the locals don’t spot a tortilla around it, they’re perplexed.

She cooks a variety of quiches. These have spinach, bacon and some other tasty stuff. And she sells them for just 25 pesos each, which is about $1.50 U.S.

When we met in 2001, she was a civil engineer for the federal highway department. Now she’s a love slave and part-time street vendor. Life changes, often for the better.

10 thoughts on “18 quiches, to go

  1. Love slave and part time street vendor. What a way with words, Señor Felipe. It does sound like quite a promotion from civil engineer.

    Keep it up. The world needs more levity (and truth).

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    1. Peggy: When you make it over here, I’ll treat you to a nice cafecito. My child bride, however, will either be at the gym or inside the house (behind the cafetería) continuing the endless chatter with her sister.

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  2. Love Slave, now you gatta appreciate that for sure. Well, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, young sir. Again, I have led the way across the precipice of 73. It’s not bad. The world (maybe me) goes a tad slower. My wants and needs have diminished a bunch. I don’t want much and I need even less. Friends are passing away, makes me a bit sad, especially when it’s a beautiful morning, and I think, they missed this. My tolerance for petty thoughts and actions is pretty much used up. I speak my mind without much thought about what others think, though that never was much of an issue in the past. Read your scribing every morning, agree with some, disagree with others, but that’s what life is all about. Wishing you the very best for the coming year. the water’s fine, dive in.

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  3. Love slave and part-time street vendor. ha,ha … you forgot “local Malinche.”

    Saludos,

    Kim G
    Redding, CA
    Where we used to joke that “F” was my Malinche.

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