What's not to like? Bayless' show and its companion cookbook,
Mexico: One Plate at a Time, are a nonstop tour of the
country and its
food, a paean to the cuisine he considers among the
world's greatest. It's as much about anthropology and history as
cooking, and with a master's in Latin American studies, the host is
qualified to explain why corn tortillas are to Mexican food what
rice is to Chinese. But it's not his knowledge that makes his one
of the highest-rated cooking shows on television. No, it's his
infectious enthusiasm, sizzling on-screen like a
gordita in
hot fat, that draws people in. They understand that Bayless has
made
Mexico and its food his life's work. One can't ignore that
kind of dedication.
Such dedication could be boring, however, if he wasn't so darned
nice, so regular-guy fun. For Bayless, Mexican food is a wonderful
means to an end: It brings people together. That's why market
vendors smile when he approaches. That's why his visitors feel
comfortable chowing down on red
mole with him, even licking
their fingers unashamedly. It's undoubtedly the reason he invited
American Way to his favorite street market and, afterward,
for a tour of his garden and kitchen. And, of course, for some
Mexican food.
The Market
First, the market. The vendors are out in force here at the New
Maxwell Street Market. In booths up and down
Canal Street is a
panoply of goods, from heavy-duty construction tools to Mexican
kitchen gadgets. One booth displays shoelaces, nothing but
shoelaces. Even the kitchen sink is here, several kitchen sinks to
be exact, arranged on the asphalt for the shopper who, well, needs
a kitchen sink.
But the array of offerings isn't sufficient to describe the feel of
this market, which is more Guanajuato than
Chicago. Little English
is spoken here. Music in Spanish, from a cassette-tape vendor's
boombox, adds rhythm to our stroll. One African-American shouts
from his stall in slow, but game, Spanish,
"Oh-lah. Coh-moh
ay-stah oo-staid?" Otherwise, the language rolls off every
tongue like melted chocolate. Booths offer Mexican
street food, and
the smell of fresh corn
masa wafts through the air - the
smell that, if you close your eyes, can take you to the doorstep of
a Mexican
tortilleria.