Why We Celebrate Cinco de Mayo, Pt. 2

Happy Cinco de Mayo! Last week, Chef David Sterling dispelled some historical misconceptions about the Cinco de Mayo holiday Americans celebrate north of the Rio Grande. Catch up here. Now that we know the history, our tummies are grumbling for some down-and-dirty enchiladas and margaritas. Chef Sterling is back to walk us through the origins of Tex-Mex food and how its widespread consumption on May 5 may make Tex-Mex the "Switzerland of gastronomy" given the complicated political history of Mexico.

David Sterling's recipes in Yucatán: Recipes from a Culinary Expedition are anything but run-of-the-mill Tex-Mex and that's what we love about it. So explore new flavors this Cinco de Mayo!

'Conflict and Cuisine: Picking Your Battles Over Dinner'
By David Sterling

It is important to realize that Cinco de Mayo is celebrated considerably more passionately in the United States than it is in Mexico – with the possible exception of Puebla, where it remains an important holiday – and it has been so since the early days after the battle. When news of the victory reached Mexican gold miners in California, they fired rifles, sang, and made impassioned speeches. During the American Civil War, Mexican and Union soldiers took the victory as an inspiration for their own battle. Today, there are some 150 official Cinco de Mayo events throughout the United States, as uprooted Mexicans and their non-Latino friends join parades and other displays of solidarity and pride. It is even celebrated in such far-flung capitals as Tokyo and Paris.

Surprisingly, the emergence of Tex-Mex food as a stand-alone cuisine has nothing historically to do with Cinco de Mayo, but instead may in fact be tied to a separate conflict almost 20 years earlier: the Mexican-American War, which lasted from 1846 to 1848. At the end of the war, when Mexico ceded almost half of its territory to the U.S., some 300,000 Mexican nationals suddenly found themselves living inside United States borders. And overnight, Mexican food became an important part of American culture. By 1868, Texans of Mexican background were known as “Texicans”.

The U.S. victory in the Mexican-American War is a victory no one wants to celebrate, with or without food. At the time, U.S. opinion was that it was a dirty war, and of course the resolution left Mexicans feeling exploited, ashamed, and resentful. And yet the foods we think of as Tex-Mex could be said to be almost a direct result of the Mexican-American War. Within a few years of the Mexican cession, a proliferation of articles began to appear in publications in the U.S. that recorded a range of Mexican foods or gave recipes for them – some more traditional than others, such as tamales, but also many that were much more recent concoctions such as burritos and chili con carne. The first known recipe for guacamole was published in the United States on the eve of the twentieth century. These represent the first wave in the popularization of what became known as Mexican food in the U.S. – an ironic fusion, or better yet, partnership of Mexican and American gastronomic traditions later nicknamed “Tex-Mex,” a term that appeared by 1914.

There are at least a couple of explanations that may address the ironic choice of Tex-Mex food – a cuisine that emerged after huge tracts of Mexican land were forcibly “incorporated” into U.S. territory – for the celebration of Mexican pride.

An interior spread from Yucatán

First, it is a proletarian food, the food of the people. Surely the original victory dinner of French cuisine would be considered to be too elitist. And even chiles en nogada and mole poblano – while exquisitely delicious – bear too clearly the imprints of Spanish colonial influence, even aristocratic aloofness, in their baroque formulas and exotic and expensive ingredient lists. Tex-Mex food is a great leveler: cheap, tasty, and easy to recognize. I would imagine that most readers have eaten nachos, while fewer will have tried chiles en nogada. (And, lest some readers desperately cling to their culinary snobbishness and sneer at anything resembling Tex-Mex food, I remind you that even “real” Mexicans eat nachos and fajitas, right here on their own soil.)

Why We Celebrate Cinco de Mayo, Pt. 1

Cinco de Mayo is coming up and Americans are already salivating over all of the tortilla chips, salsa, margaritas, and gooey cheese and refried beans to be consumed on May 5. We're lucky enough to know a few experts on Mexican cuisine; Diana Kennedy, Lucinda Hutson, and now Chef David Sterling have all published authoritative books on the best Mexico has to offer the global palette. Chef Sterling, author of Yucatán: Recipes from a Culinary Expedition, really knows his Mexican cuisine and his history, so we asked him to give us a primer on Cinco de Mayo.

'Conflict and Cuisine: Picking Your Battles Over Dinner'
By David Sterling

Eating special foods to celebrate Victory is nothing new. Dormice dipped in honey and rolled in poppy seeds were a perennial favorite at the feasts following the processions of the famed Roman Triumphs. Closer to our own era, the rather more plebian hot dogs, hamburgers and cherry pie appear annually on the Fourth of July; ratatouille and crêpes Suzette honor Bastille Day festivities; and buñuelos, churros, “puffy tacos”, and other Spanish-American foods are devoured during the remembrance of the heroes at the Alamo in the annual Fiesta San Antonio. And where would Cinco de Mayo be without Tex-Mex enchiladas drowning in chili and molten cheese, washed down with a river of beer and Margaritas? 

What we consume serves as a vivid metaphor of our political and cultural selves; the very zoetic act of ingesting and digesting delicious food is a flamboyant - and pleasurable - way of thumbing one's nose at the vanquished. And for those of us not on the battlefield, our full stomachs and alcoholic buzz are vicarious ways of participating in the victory.

One thing quickly becomes clear from the above menus: you don't have to be French - or Mexican or American - to celebrate and enjoy these victory feasts and their foods. Francophiles around the world rush to purchase the best macarons for their guests on Bastille Day, and college fraternity brothers crowd bars from Seattle to Syracuse to down numberless Coronas and gloopy nachos on Cinco de Mayo.

But once we have gobbled the last crumb of our victory meal, do we really know what we have just been celebrating while we chewed? Probably most people know at least the basics: that citizens stormed a jail known as the Bastille, subsequently igniting the French Revolution; or that Texas defenders booted out Santa Anna's army at the Alamo, which eventually led to Mexico's surrender of Texas to the U.S. - or something like that. Beyond the highlights, the details become murkier.

I believe that this is particularly true of Cinco de Mayo. Take a poll to enquire what the date represents, and it is likely that most respondents will acknowledge that it is “Mexican Pride Day.” Still others will say that the 5th of May corresponds to our 4th of July - Independence Day. And a handful of others will simply glaze over and head for the party.

An interior spread from Yucatán

Of course, Cinco de Mayo has nothing to do with Mexican Independence. The Battle of Puebla, popularly known as “Cinco de Mayo”, was a battle during Napoleon III's so-called French intervention in Mexico, when on 5 May 1862 a small number of Mexican soldiers defending Puebla defeated a much larger French army. As in all histories, victories can be tenuous: in spite of Mexico's victory in this particular battle, the French indeed went on to conquer Mexico - but in yet another reversal of fortune, they were forced out of the country just four years later. Nonetheless, since 1862 Mexicans have honored the Fifth of May as a day of victory, and therefore of Mexican pride.