Cooking School in Mexico! — Hello Pension, Goodbye Tension!

I have always heard that true Mexican cooking is quite different from Tex-Mex, which is typically what passes for Mexican food here in the United States. I just didn't know how different until I went to cooking school in San Miguel de Allende, with exotic ingredients completely new to me, such as cactus, and spices such as tajin, and herbs such as majorana.

I decided to go to this cooking school after I went to cooking school in Tuscany, early in my retirement. It was organized by the same people, George and Linda Meyer. I liked the way they introduced us to a different chef each day. As one of a group of amateurs in the kitchen, I appreciated how the chefs did not try to make cooking a completely different cuisine beyond our grasp.

It was a marathon week of learning by doing, and then eating what we just made. There's no better way to learn, whether it's cooking or baseball or sewing or just about anything else.

My pal, Howard, went with me again, just as he had to Tuscany. It feels a little like college to have a roommate again, but Howard makes us seem like frat brothers . . . especially with the all-night drinking!

So exactly why do I love to cook so much? There's no one answer to that question.

I sure didn't learn anything about the joy of cooking growing up in the Momeyer household in Newark, and then Pittsburgh. I did nothing more than make a sandwich. My sandwiches seemed to always include peanut butter: peanut butter and pickle . . . peanut butter and tomato . . . peanut butter and banana. Before you laugh, try all those just once.

As an adult, I began cooking just for myself, as a single man in New York City. It went a long way in making my apartment feel like home, not always easy in a New York space. Then I began to cook for dates. As a bachelor in New York, it worked way better than walking a dog to attract an attractive woman.

Then as a family man, I cooked for my kids. Lily has been a vegetarian since 8, and Jack would eat steak three times a day if possible. Cooking for my family has been a challenge and a delight!

I then began to do what New Yorkers tend not to, and that is to throw dinner parties. In this age of emerging demands, quirks, and allergies, finding the right formula was and is no easy feat.

This isn't to say things always went well. I had to occasionally advise my guests that "I wouldn't eat that if I were you." I had to order takeout on more than one occasion to save the evening.

Cooking can be a headache for some, but a pleasure for others. I fall in the latter group. It is a thrill and a challenge for me to go somewhere I've never been before to learn to cook something I've never cooked before.

Cooking requires a completely different set of skills and senses than were required of me in my work life. More than that, it was creative . . . it was tactile and repetitive . . . it required the application of my senses of taste and smell and touch. But more than anything else, cooking for me is nurturing. It is not a cliche: FOOD IS LOVE!

And now in retirement, it is a greater passion than ever. I have the time, I have the interest, and I can think of no better way to make and spend time with friends.

So now I've added to my repertoire cactus salad, four mushroom soup, 3 different kinds of guacamole, empanadas with corn husk wrappers, and tres leches cake, to name just a few. And San Miguel de Allende is a completely charming city high in the mountains, a few hundred miles north of Mexico City. It is a part of the world that, contrary to what most believe, was civilized and developed before the older cities of our nation.