Tag Archives: jane bauer

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

Researchers believe that taste memories can be among the strongest one can have based on a principle called “conditioned taste aversion,” a survival tactic that helps one remember if something was eaten previously and was either poisonous or caused illness. This principle states that this memory biologically helps to prevent one from repeating the mistake in the future when this food is encountered.
-from the article Food and Memory by Joy Intriago

I love when something is so unexpectedly delicious that it imprints on me, creating a food memory that I will remember for years to come. It isn’t usually exotic foods, but an oddly delightful and unexpected pairing that causes my taste buds to perk up. Over 25 years ago in Brighton, UK, at a vegetarian restaurant, after watching The Wedding Singer at a movie theater, I had a combination of beet, cucumber, dill, something creamy and something crispy… maybe a piece of fried wonton. I have tried to recreate this perfect combination but have never managed to hit the same balance of yum.

About 13 years ago, on a chilly May evening, I had dinner in Montreal with my aunt and uncle at Laloux, a French restaurant. I had a combination of foie gras and apple that has made every time I have eaten foie gras since, feel like something is missing.

When I miss my father I can taste the pancakes with ham and maple syrup that he made for me on Sunday mornings. The beauty of a food memory is that you don’t just remember the taste but all the details of the moment get frozen and saved.

Last month I went to Mazunte for a 3-day silent meditation retreat. I was feeling a little dubious about going as I lived in Mazunte for a couple of years when I first moved here in the late 90s. Back then it was a dirt road village with a few palapas on the beach, one Italian restaurant and electricity in only a few parts of the village. Each time I have been recently I felt annoyed by its growth, and I felt even more annoyed with myself, for being that kind of person. Change happens, places grow, some evolve and some just get bigger.

Upon arrival for my retreat I was told that the retreat actually started the following day so I was left to my own devices for dinner. I wandered into the village. Stopped and visited the family that welcomed me into their fold twenty-five years ago and set off to find dinner. Outside the restaurant La Cuisine a blackboard displayed the evening’s specials and one was Tortellini de Conejo con Salsa de Zanahoria y Parmesano (rabbit tortellini with carrot and parmesan sauce). My mouth watered just thinking about it. It did not disappoint. Large tortellini with ground rabbit and a hint of fennel seed… I think, I tried to decipher each bite. The carrot and parmesan sauce was the perfect complement and I liked the cleverness of serving carrots with rabbit.

I had to admit, progress has its advantages in bringing new ingredients and chefs with different techniques. And it’s not new, it’s always been this way. Change is the only constant.

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

“When we name an inanimate object, we are intentionally building a relationship, elevating it to a character in our lives. Not only do we feel closer to things that we name, but perhaps we name our things in order to feel closer to them.”
Kathryn Hymes in The Atlantic

Words. Where would we be without them? We marvel at a baby’s first words- usually little more than a gurgle, we learn the names of objects, we learn to read, we learn to manipulate and interpret their meanings and along the way we take them for granted, until the day when we start losing them one by one.

In translation, beyond word substitution, there are gaps of meaning within languages. We’ve all heard about how some tribes in the Arctic have 50 words for snow. There are other languages that have words that give more specific meaning to things, such as the German word Treppenwitz which translates to stairs (treppen) + wit- and means “the perfect retort that comes too late”, what you didn’t respond in the heat of the moment because you only thought of it while you were already leaving. I need at least seven English words to describe what this German word captures with one. By the way it’s a noun, in case you were wondering how to integrate it into your speech. German is full of amazing compound words like Lebensmüde, which means “life-tired”.

In Iceland they have Gluggaveður – which describes when the weather looks pleasant from your window, but is actually really cold and you need a jacket. Gluggaveður literally means “window-weather”.

One of my favorite words is the Japanese Komorebi, which refers to the scattered sunlight that filters through the leaves on the trees. So poetic and gentle feeling. What do you think… noun or adjective? If you are a native English speaker I bet you guessed it is an adjective because it feels so descriptive. It is actually a noun which makes it even cooler because it is a thing, it has form, it’s more than a description- it’s a slice of a moment and the Japanese have captured it with a word, naming it gives it heft.

This month our writers explore the naming of things. On the surface this topic feels flat but it is anything but. Naming is the first act bestowed upon us when we are born. Attaching words to things, people and emotions is how we find our place in the world and give form to our experiences. In fact, naming is such serious business that many countries have regulations regarding naming. In Mexico, in the state of Sonora, the name Hermione is banned, as is the name Robocop. Sarah is a banned name in Morocco, although without the ‘h’ it is permissible. Linda is banned in Saudi Arabia due to its association with Western culture.

Names have so much power. In Harry Potter there is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Judaism avoids mentioning G-d other than when reading the torah. This is because he is thought to transcend the word as no word can capture the essence of G-d.

And for when you start forgetting the names of things or people, the Hawaiian language has Pana Po’o – the act of scratching your head in an attempt to remember something you’ve forgotten.

See you next month,

Jane

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

Take a deep breath.
Close your eyes and listen. What do you hear?

As I write this, I hear the odd car driving past, the squawk of parrots in the tree outside my window, the clicking sound of the fan. These are the sounds of my life.

The Global News Podcast from the BBC recently came out with a new weekly show called “The Happy Pod”, which includes uplifting stories from around the world- giving listeners a break from the war in Ukraine and the violence in the Sudan. A segment of this show asks listeners to send in their favorite sounds and the answers have been rather surprising.

Someone from Rome sent in the sound of his Vespa starting, a guy in New Zealand sent in the sound of his dog drinking water and of course people submitted the sounds of their children laughing, giggling, cooing. A woman from Buenos Aires sent in the sound of the knife sharpener’s whistle that announces his services. On the latest episode there is a student in China who loves the sounds of his old fashioned typewriter and an Indian woman who shared the sound of the birds around her home in Bangalore.

Favorite sounds aren’t something we often contemplate. We ask about favorite songs or music but rarely do we consider the hum of the background soundtrack, unless it is an annoyance. According to The Telegraph, a newspaper/publication in the UK, the most popular favorite sounds are:
Waves against rocks
Rain against the window
Treading on snow

Living in Mexico you learn that different cultures deal with background sounds differently. In my experience, Mexican culture is very tolerant of noise compared to Canadian culture. After years of living here I don’t even flinch when a neighbor blasts reggaeton at 3am or the early morning sound of mariachis singing “Las Mañanitas” for someone’s birthday. By contrast I have heard foreigners complain about barking dogs, chickens, birds, music that is audible past 10pm and the calls of street vendors. To that I think of the words of fictional pirate Jack Sparrow “The problem is not the problem. The problem is your attitude about the problem.”

We must embrace the symphony and cacophony of life to live harmoniously. While it is important to stop and smell the flowers, it just as important to listen to the hum of the world.

See you July,

Jane

What to watch to learn about Mexican music

By Jane Bauer

Luis Miguel: the series on Netflix (2018-)

One of Mexico’s biggest musicians, Luis Miguel, was the original child star, and this series follows his rise to stardom. Encouraged by his manager father, Luis Miguel became one of the best-selling Latin music artists of all time. Actor Diego Boneta plays the title role and sings all the music and does an incredible job considering how distinct and well known Luis Miguel’s sound is. When the series was first released in 2018 it was all anybody in Mexico was talking about. Luis Miguel’s world tour kicks off on August 3rd in Buenos Aires.

Selena: the movie (1997)
Selena (1971-1995) although born and raised in Texas, this Mexican/ American singer made a huge impression in a life that was cut too short after she was murdered. In 2020 Billboard magazine listed her in third place on their list of “Greatest Latino Artists of All Time”. The movie about her life was the breakout role for Jennifer Lopez and earned her a Golden Globe Award nomination for Best Actress . There is a new Netflix series as well but I haven’t seen it yet.

Hasta Que Te Conocí (Until I Met You) (2016)
This drama series follows the roots and footsteps of the legendary Mexican singer-songwriter Juan Gabriel. The 13-episode series is based on unpublished testimonies on the icon’s journey from childhood to fame. “A story that tells how his talent led him to defy and overcome poverty, betrayals and prejudices,” reads an official description on Amazon Prime where it’s available for streaming.

Los Tigres Del Norte At Folsom Prison (2019)
Los Tigres del Norte are a norteño band from Sinaloa that was originally formed in 1968 by four brothers from the Hernández Angulo family. They are the only Mexican band to have won six Grammy awards.

In 2019, they premiered a Netflix original documentary and live album Los Tigres del Norte at Folsom Prison. The set marked the first time a musical act was allowed to film inside the prison walls since Johnny Cash’s fabled performance at Folsom in 1968.

The documentary also provided a rare, and compassionate look at Latino incarceration told through the songs of the band and the stories of the Latino and Latina inmates at Folsom Prison interviewed for the production.

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

“Less is more”
Ludwig Mies van der Rohe

Even if you are not interested in building or construction, it is undeniable that spaces have the ability to evoke certain feelings. The curve of a wall or the way the light comes into a room can make you feel welcomed and soothed. Like you would like to sit down and linger.

As a girl, one of my favorite spaces was a grouping of three black high-rises connected by an underground shopping area and corridor that led to the subway (or “metro.” as we call it in Montreal). The buildings seemed to levitate off the slushy streets and had wide expanses of off-white terraces. I loved the feeling of touching that material that I now know to be travertine. The walls of glass gave way to expanses of space that felt luxurious and calming.

The buildings were designed by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, and I can see how my love of those buildings has subtly influenced my own house design. I like clean straight lines and space that allows for flow.

This month our writers explore architecture. Before moving to Mexico, I hadn’t met that many architects. However, when I consider the temperate climate here and the array of building materials available, it makes sense why someone would want to be an architect in Mexico. Most regions don’t even require insulation, which expands the possibility for experimentation with materials. One of my favorite features is the amount of outdoor living space one can have. My living room and dining room literally spill out onto my garden. I think that is the aspect I love so much about Mies van der Rohe’s buildings – the connection of the indoor space to the outside.

With so much building happening in Huatulco, it is interesting to see where the influence of some of the designs has come from.

See you next month,

Jane

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

A few years ago I sat in a tapas bar in Madrid with a glass of wine ready to devour a copy of a well-respected food magazine that I had picked up at the airport. The cover promised stories about Mexican chefs. Sadly, as I read through, almost all the chefs mentioned were men and they all seemed to croon the same old story I had heard from almost every Mexican chef I know about how they started in their mother’s or grandmother’s kitchen. The tone of these tales always suggests some sort of bravery on their part for having taken a chance in the kitchen.

This issue of The Eye brings up a lot of topics that I have long debated. I once got into a discussion with a man who couldn’t understand why I don’t refer to myself as a chef.

“You run a kitchen, don’t you?” he pushed, knowing full well that I do. I explained that none of the women I work with refer to themselves as chefs and therefore it would seem the height of arrogance to go around calling myself a chef. “I just like feeding people. I don’t really need or want the title,” I said and I could tell he couldn’t understand this.

Why do I cook? Cooking for me started as an act of love- first in my childhood with family, then in college with friends, then in my first home for my husband, then for my daughter… I can scarcely think of a time in my life when I haven’t run a kitchen.

I am always a little taken aback when I am invited to attend a food event such as a culinary festival as a presenter or judge, to find other people who run kitchens dressed up in their chef whites- I don’t even own a pair of chef whites! I do have many elegant dresses that look great with an apron though!

My culinary creativity hasn’t been spontaneous, it has been cultivated over time from my travels, sharing kitchens with others, being introduced to new ingredients and necessity- cooking qu’est-ce qui, a French term I learned today for “what there is.”

Chefs also have a terrible reputation for getting upset- having fiery tempers and throwing things. I have rarely raised my voice in the kitchen and have never thrown anything. The kitchen is the heart of a home and even in a restaurant I think the vibe should reflect that- good food is made with care not ambition.

“What people expect from your kitchen isn’t what people expect from mine,” a fellow chef/restaurateur once told me with a tone that suggested his was superior. So while not calling myself a chef or strutting around in chef whites may lead to me being taken a little less seriously, I’m ok with that. I am far more honored to be a part of a legacy of women who cook to connect, to grow and to nourish.

See you next month,

Jane

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

“Einstein’s 1905 paper came out and suddenly changed people’s thinking about space-time. We’re again in the middle of something like that. When the dust settles, time – whatever it may be – could turn out to be even stranger and more illusory than even Einstein could imagine.”
Carlo Rovelli

This month our writers explore the concept of time and space. When I was in grade 5 the teacher gave us an exercise in which we mapped out our life on a timeline which looked like a straight line stretching horizontally across a page.

Storytelling was divided into befores and afters. During high school a teacher pointed out to me that in my fiction writing I struggled with tense, she seemed to suggest that perhaps I hadn’t been taught my verbs in English properly which was/is probably true since I went to school in French and only spoke English at home.

As I got older I often wrote two versions of the same story- one in the present and one in the traditional narrator’s past. What I came to realize is that I don’t struggle with verb tenses- what I actually do is lose myself in time. What I mean by this is that when you are telling a story about what happened in the past you are usually recalling it as you narrated it to yourself back then, in which case the present tense would make sense for a narrative voice, whereas if I am telling a story with the wisdom incurred since the event, then using the past tense feels logical. If you are not an avid reader or writer chances are you don’t spend a lot of time worrying about your verb tenses.

We are taught time is linear but now as we enter a world where what was once science-fiction is now just science, it is likely that time is constantly folding over itself and our experiences and inner world are floating between dimensions, like flotsam and jetsam.

Julia Mossbridge, a cognitive neurophysicist, has been doing studies on precognition that support the idea that you can increase your skill to see the future (Although it isn’t really necessarily the future but could be a slip of the past that may have already occurred). I think every one of us has had the feeling that something would happen and then it did.

Have you ever met someone and disliked them immediately for no reason? Some future transgression that you are aware of on a deeper level perhaps? Carlo Rovelli, physicist, and author, posits that Time is “part of a complicated geometry woven together with the geometry of space.”

Perhaps the next thing to divide us will be whether we are string theorists or quantum loop theorists? Maybe the thought of several versions of you living in different dimensions seems ridiculous. Maybe you have never experienced the knowing I referred to and you live your life tight-roping it across a clear line from ‘before’ towards ‘after’ with logic and rationality.

Or maybe you are like me and find yourself doing things without knowing the logic of why.

See you sometime,

Jane

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

“Alice: How long is forever?
White Rabbit: Sometimes, just one second.”
― Lewis Carroll

It is 2023! Is it just me or does it feel like time is moving faster?

As has become our tradition the theme for the first issue of the year follows the Chinese New Year- hence The Rabbit Issue. Past issues have included the chicken, the pig, the rat… you get the idea.

When I was a girl I was very attached to a soft toy Peter Rabbit that I must have gotten very early in life because by the time I was four he was already falling apart. For Christmas my mother told me to write a letter to Santa to ask if he could fix him. I was dubious about this plan but sure enough on Christmas morning Peter Rabbit sat under the tree perfectly put back together wearing a brand new blue jacket.

When I was eight my older sister told me Santa was a fake and she found my old Peter Rabbit tucked away in my mother’s closet. I was sad but not surprised to learn about that Santa wasn’t real and I was thrilled to have now two Peter Rabbits- one more worn than the other.

When I was nine my father and I took the Via Rail from Montreal to Vancouver- staying in fancy sleeper berths. I spent my time putting on magic shows in the bar car for the adults. The original Peter Rabbit accompanied me on this journey and was good company for I didn’t meet many children during the trip. Somewhere between Winnipeg and Saskatoon, amid the flurry of getting off to look around and new people getting on and people getting off, Peter Rabbit and I got separated.

My father notified everyone on the train and made sure we checked every lost and found at every station we passed- on the way to Vancouver and on the way back to Montreal. As a parent myself I am touched by my parents’ actions. My mother for teaching me that if I want something it is always worth asking and to have a little faith that I will get it- this is a skill that has served me well. My father’s real concern for finding Peter Rabbit taught me that the things I love and cherish are of value- even if it is just a stuffed animal. Peter Rabbit never did make it home and I still use my Peter Rabbit plate when I need a little comfort.

As we sprint into a new year it is time to reflect on the imprint we are leaving on those around us. What are the ripple effects of our actions? Let us all be more conscious and mindful as we move forward because you are more powerful than you can imagine… make good use of it.
Happy New Year!

See you in February,

Jane

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

“In our consumer culture, we always want the next best thing: the latest, the newest, the youngest. Failing that, we at least want more: more intensity, more variety, more stimulation. We seek instant gratification and are increasingly intolerant of any frustration. Nowhere are we encouraged to be satisfied with what we have, to think, “This is good. This is enough.”— Esther Perel

It feels as though every December I sit down to write my editorial and I say the same thing- shop less. Our planet and our lives are full of clutter. People have so much junk that the storage business is booming just so they can store their ever-growing piles of stuff.

So rather than issue a de-cluttering challenge where I encourage you to get rid of one thing a day for the next year- a pair of pants you haven’t fit into for the last five years, your CD collection, the junk that decorates your life. Rather than tell you how great it is to do your Christmas shopping from your own home- give your sister those earrings she covets, give your best friend your favorite book with a handwritten note.

This year I encourage you to sit with yourself and ask yourself what you need. What do you need? I guarantee it isn’t an insta-pot or a new dress. We all have a hunger inside of us that needs filling and I promise you it can’t be ordered through Amazon.

Sit with yourself and breathe- even better if you can do this in nature- the forest, the beach, rain, snow or shine- somewhere away from the traffic of consumerism. Search your body and soul for parts you want to fill- listen closely and you will hear them. Maybe your hunger is for more community, maybe you need deeper connection with your children, your spouse, your parents. Maybe you want more intimacy. Maybe you want to feel safe- financially and emotionally. Maybe you want to be less lonely. Maybe you want more time alone.

The information coming at you would have you believe that you can buy your way out of these feelings. Technology has given us a vertical expansion of comparison so that we aren’t only getting feelings of inadequacy from our neighbors buying a new car, we are comparing ourselves to celebrities and people with no visible talent but millions of followers. No amount of stuff, power or money will ever satiate what you really hunger for.

So this year buy whatever you think you want. Throw away the packaging and enjoy your shiny new toys. Then see how you feel after the luster has worn off the high. Sit long enough with yourself and you will find the path to fill the hunger and maybe by the next holiday season you’ll buy less- not because it’s good for the environment but because it’s good for yourself.

Spread love and light everywhere you go.
See you in January,

Jane

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

“Never trust anyone who has not brought a book with them.”
― Lemony Snicket, Horseradish

I love books. I can easily conjure up the memory of the feel of the carpet at the Children’s Library where I sat for hours as a girl. A few years ago I started keeping track of my reading and I average about forty-five books a year.

“How do you read so many books?” I have been asked. The secret is that I am rarely without a book at hand. Sitting in the car while gas is being pumped, lines at the bank, waiting for a friend in a restaurant – these are all slivers of opportunity to slip into another world.

If you have been to my restaurant on Christmas Eve you know how much I love books. For many years we have gifted each guest a random book. Inspired by the Icelandic tradition Jolabokaflod (Christman book flood), I like to tell people that they will get the book that is meant for them.

While I have lived in Mexico for more than half my life, I am a little disappointed to tell you that I haven’t read that many Mexican writers, but this issue is so full of fascinating writers that I can’t wait to read. I have read some Mexican writers and here are a few of my favorite books that aren’t mentioned in this issue.

Lost Children Archive, by Valeria Luiselli (2019)
The story of a woman, her husband and two children traveling from New York to Arizona. Touching upon the horrors of children being separated from their parents while searching for a different life. This novel examines identity and questions our humanity. Also check out her first novel The Story of My Teeth (2015)- it is a humourous and surreal tale that is primarily set at the Jumex Museum in CDMX.

Like Water for Chocolate, by Laura Esquivel (1990)
I was first introduced to Mexico by watching this film in a Montreal movie theater on a cold winter evening. It was easy to fall in love with this revolutionary love story that centers around food. The novel is a fun read and includes recipes.

Into the Beautiful North, by Luis Alberto Urrea (2009)
Nineteen-year-old Nayeli notices that her small town is devoid of men because they have all gone north. She heads north to find her father and to find men to return to save the town.

What all these novels have in common is the ability to weave the surreal into the every day giving the reader a different perspective on life- much as Mexico itself does.

Happy Reading,

Jane