Antonio Banderas brought cochinita pibil to the forefront of my consciousness even though I’d eaten it a time or two before. It was his movie El Pistolero in which he mentioned his love of cochinita pibil. Well, his character did. I don’t know if the actor Banderas actually likes cochinita pibil. But it is very tasty.
One of the advantages of the Plague Year and my child bride’s temporary, we hope, halt to her weekly pastry sales on the downtown plaza is that she has more free time, and since she does not know how to sit still, she’s been cooking meals more often. My gain.
Yesterday it was the cochinita pibil and refried beans you see on the plate.
It is one of those silver linings that clouds are reputed to have.
Moving on to another topic, I wrote on August 29 about a home construction starting across the street in a lot that’s been vacant since we built the Hacienda in 2002-03. Quite a bit of progress has been made, and I need to take another photo.
What’s most interesting about the home construction is that it’s being built, for the most part, by a lone fellow who looks to be about 60. Now and then, a overweight woman wearing the traditional, Mexican housewife apron is there too, shoveling, hauling bricks, cement, you name it. His wife, I imagine. And even less often, a younger fellow assists, but that’s rare. Basically, the one guy is doing it alone. Almost daily.
He always sports an old shirt of a Pemex employee. I wonder if he still works there. There’s a gas station up the highway a short distance.
When the work started a couple of months ago, the fellow would park his car, an old sedan, directly across from our entrance, making it difficult for me to pull the Honda in. We asked if he could park just a little farther along, and he has done so ever since.
When we drive out or in, we wave, and he waves back. He seems like a good guy, and I am immensely impressed with what he is doing. I wish I could build a house all by myself. I once dreamed of doing that, but I never have, of course, and never will.