This Midwestern Life

The first few months I spent here in Ohio I kept a secret from the people I met. Granted, I didn't meet many people because I refused to leave the house. I didn't tell anyone I met that I am Mexican. Mexican-American to be precise: more American than Mexican. My parents and grandparents were born in the US. Still, Mexican is a dirty word around here and since I wasn't carrying a shovel and waiting outside the Home Depot for work I confused the hell out of the people I told.

"But...But you don't look Mexican and you don't have a Mexican first name." Usually, I'm not offended when people are confused. I use the opportunity to clarify misinformation and misconceptions. One thing that bothers me about living in the Midwest is not being able to find Mexican food products .

No chorizo and no pan dulce. No Ibarra chocolate, no tamarind candy and no little corner burrito shack. I have never seen a sno-cone truck and they call chicharrones pork rinds. I can't get cinnamon sticks for arroz con leche and I can't get masa for tamales. Not that it matters because I was always absent from the tamale making tutorials at my Nina's. But still, I can't even try because I can't get the ingredients. I can't get good tortillas. I can't get corn tortillas and for the longest time I couldn't even get good refried beans.

Behold, the Midwestern can of refried beans:



I'm surprised they don't call them Fiesta Arriba Arriba beans and have a picture of a sombrero-wearing donkey. To make matters worse they taste like chili beans. WTF. Can a girl get some Rosarita beans or Ortega? And don't try to sell me that Goya stuff! For the last time, I am Mexican, not Spanish. Goya specializes in Hispanic and South American food. Has the whole world gone crazy? Are Mexicans not the fastest growing ethnicity? Or am I just in the Midwest?