Tonight, for Cinco De Mayo, I made Grilled Shrimp over Vietnamese-Style Rice Noodle Salad with a Sesame-Chile-Citrus-Soy Dressing.
Doesn’t sound particularly Mexican, does it? Well, think again.
The shrimp are Mexican Gulf Shrimp, the salad dressing is seasoned with fresh Mexican Serrano chiles, and I would venture to say most if not all of the produce was picked by Mexicans. Sounds pretty damn Mexican to me.
See, I think that Cinco de Mayo shouldn’t be all about cracking open that six-pack of Corona Extra, going out to some lame inauthentic Mexican place (or perhaps your local dive bar) for some mediocre nachos and burritos and getting hammered on Cuervo Gold Margaritas.
Let’s get serious here. You cute little skinny white chicks watching your weight wouldn’t have your salad bars, if it wasn’t for the Mexicans, many of them illegal immigrants, to take the menial and back breaking job of picking your lettuce for you in the blazing hot sun in California. And for those of you lucky enough to live near a city with a large number of fine dining establishments, such as New York, Philadelphia, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, and just about every part of Texas, you wouldn’t be able to have an affordable night on the town at your favorite white tablecloth place either, because its the Mexicans from Puebla and other Latinos who are the line cooks, garde mangers, busboys and dishwashers who are willing to work for rediculously low wages instead of expensive American workers. And for you New Orleanians, while your city is rebuilding, think of the many illegal Mexicans working as contractors because the city can’t find enough people to do the job — while at the same time they are cracking down on them and sending them home.
I say thank you, Mexicanos. For all the crappy unappreciated jobs you take and for living in constant fear of deportation. If anyone deserves to be opening a few sixpacks today and kicking back with your family and friends, its you.