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San Miguel de Allende

Beyond the Surface

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By Darlene Olivia McElroy—

As a working artist, I have always created mixed-media paintings and assemblages. About 10 years ago, I decided to combine the two—and shazam! Dimensional collage became an integral part of my work. Dimensional objects bring that sweet magic of the unexpected to a collage or painting, allowing me to take the narrative further.

At first, I was a hunter-gatherer of found objects—vintage millinery flowers, broken jewelry, and other curiosities. Over time, this process evolved into making my own molds and casting objects. My obsession with materials and dreamlike imagery, and the mindset of a mad artist-scientist have all contributed to capturing what I see as the healing spirit of humanity.

Trained and employed as a painter and illustrator, I have also spent years as a teacher, author, lecturer, and exhibition juror. After living in France, I returned to the United States and moved to Santa Fe, New Mexico. I come from a long line of New Mexico artists and musicians, and both my soul and my work have been deeply shaped by the summers I spent on my family’s ranch there. In Santa Fe, the rich tapestry of Hispanic life filled my days and nights with color, texture, and story. My paternal grandfather, an artist on Santa Catalina Island, also played an important role in shaping my path, introducing me early on to art as both a lifestyle and a narrative language.

During this time, I leaned into my natural curiosity and the pure joy of exploring what paint can do. I have written five art technique books for North Light Books (now Penguin Random House), which have been translated into Spanish, French, Chinese, and other languages. These books explore a range of methods, including image transfers, surface techniques, alternative surfaces, and mixed-media clay. They are designed as resources for both working artists and teachers.

I continue to explore new materials, surfaces, and techniques, sharing what I learn online and through my monthly classes at Galeria San Francisco, located in the Fábrica La Aurora in San Miguel de Allende.

San Miguel first drew me into its creative orbit over 40 years ago. Being invited to show my work at Galeria San Francisco—and finding so many longtime Santa Fe friends living here—made the decision easy. I now live here full-time with my supportive husband, a crazy cat, and two slightly neurotic dogs.

My paintings are represented in galleries in the United States and Mexico and are held in corporate, civic, and educational institutions, as well as private collections around the world.

I invite you to visit Galeria San Francisco to see more of my work, or explore online at DarleneOliviaMcElroy.com

 

San Miguel de Allende

From Bordeaux to the Bajío: The French Roots of Querétaro Wine

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By Jane Bauer—

About an hour from San Miguel de Allende, the vineyards of Querétaro stretch across a high, dry plateau that doesn’t immediately read as wine country. There are no rolling green hills or centuries-old estates. Instead, the landscape is open, sun-exposed, and shaped by a very different set of conditions. And yet, this region has become one of the most important wine-producing areas in Mexico, with a foundation that traces directly back to France.

Much of Mexico’s modern wine industry is built on French grape varieties. In Querétaro, that means Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Syrah, among others. These grapes were introduced as winemakers looked to established European models—particularly French—for structure, consistency, and quality. Over time, they became standard across many regions in Mexico, including this one.

What’s interesting is how those grapes perform here. Querétaro sits at a higher altitude than many people expect, often above 1,800 meters. The days are warm and dry, with strong sun, but the nights cool down significantly. That shift in temperature slows the ripening process and helps preserve acidity in the grapes. It’s one of the key factors that gives wines from this region their balance.

The soils also play a role. In parts of Querétaro, they are mineral-rich and well-draining, which forces the vines to work a little harder. That stress can translate into more concentrated flavors in the fruit. It’s not an easy environment, but it’s one that can produce very precise results when managed well.

One of the defining features of Querétaro’s wine scene is its focus on sparkling wine. The region has become known for wines made using the traditional method—the same process used in Champagne, where a second fermentation takes place in the bottle. This method is labor-intensive and requires careful control, but it produces wines with fine bubbles and a clean, structured profile.

The climate in Querétaro supports this style. The preserved acidity in the grapes makes them particularly well-suited for sparkling production. Over the past couple of decades, several wineries have focused on refining this approach, and the region now has a reputation for it. It’s not an attempt to recreate Champagne, but it clearly draws from the same technical foundation.

That said, the wines here are not French in identity. The influence is there in the grapes and the methods, but the outcome reflects local conditions. The intensity of the sun, the dryness of the air, and the elevation all shape the final product. There’s also a different mindset at play. Many Mexican winemakers are less constrained by tradition, which allows for experimentation alongside more classical styles.
You’ll see that in the range of wines being produced. Alongside structured reds and sparkling wines, there are blends, rosés, and small-batch projects that don’t always follow a strict model. Some producers are working with international consultants; others are entirely self-taught. It’s a mix of approaches, and that variety is part of what defines the region right now.

For visitors, Querétaro is relatively easy to navigate. There are established wine routes with clusters of wineries, tasting rooms, and restaurants open to the public. The infrastructure is there, but it hasn’t tipped into overdevelopment. Many of the wineries are still small to mid-sized operations, and it’s common to find yourself speaking directly with the people involved in the production.

A typical visit might include a tasting, a walk through the vineyard, and a meal on-site. Some places are more polished than others, but the overall experience tends to feel accessible. You can visit multiple wineries in a day without it becoming overly structured or commercial.

For those based in San Miguel de Allende, the region feels close—both geographically and culturally. It fits into the same broader landscape of central Mexico, where outside influences have been absorbed and reinterpreted over time. Just as San Miguel reflects layers of history and migration, the wine in Querétaro reflects a similar process.

French grapes, introduced through a long history of exchange, are now rooted in Mexican soil. The techniques may come from elsewhere, but the results are shaped here. It’s not about replication. It’s about adaptation.

And that’s what makes Querétaro worth paying attention to.

San Miguel de Allende

The Sweetest Adventure: Exploring the Best Bakeries in San Miguel

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By Michael Solof—

San Miguel de Allende is a haven for food lovers, especially those with a sweet tooth. As you wander the streets, the air is often filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries. It can make you stop in your tracks and search for the source of those incredible smells.

But have you ever wondered about the origins of these delicious treats? The city’s bakery culture is steeped in history and shaped by a strong French influence.

A Brief History of Bakeries: From France to San Miguel
Modern pastry traditions owe much to French baking from the 19th century. French bakers revolutionized the craft, introducing techniques that produced flaky pastries, crusty breads, and delicate desserts that quickly spread around the world.

As these methods reached Mexico, local bakers adapted them using regional ingredients such as cinnamon, chocolate, and corn. The result was a unique culinary fusion that combined European technique with Mexican flavor.

Over time, bakeries became more than places to buy bread. They evolved into community gathering spots where locals and visitors meet for coffee, conversation, and something sweet. Today, many establishments celebrate both Mexican holidays and European traditions, reflecting the rich cultural blend that defines San Miguel’s food scene.

My Six Favorite Bakeries in San Miguel
It was a tough choice, but these six stand out as personal favorites.

1. La Colmena Panadería (The Blue Door Bakery)
Relox 21
Open 7 days a week, hours vary

Founded in 1901, La Colmena is one of the oldest bakeries in the city. Known for traditional Mexican favorites such as conchas and pan de muerto, it has preserved its charm and authenticity for more than a century.

Warm and welcoming, La Colmena is a favorite meeting place for locals seeking a perfect pairing of coffee and something sweet. Its rustic setting reflects the long culinary heritage of the neighborhood.

2. Panadería La Antigua
Umarán 36
8am–10pm, Closed Wednesdays

At Panadería La Antigua traditional baking methods are the focus. Established in the late 1990s, it specializes in artisan breads made with local ingredients and time-honored recipes.

Its reputation for quality attracts both residents and visitors. In addition to sourdoughs and baguettes, the shop offers regional specialties, and its tortillas are among the most popular items. The space frequently features local artwork and community gatherings.

3. San Sebastián Panadería
Calzada de la Aurora 24
9am–10pm, Closed Sundays

A neighborhood favorite since the early 2000s, San Sebastián offers a wide range of baked goods based on family recipes passed down through generations.

From classic pastries to cakes and cookies, the selection changes with the seasons. The welcoming atmosphere and personal service make it a popular destination for birthdays, celebrations, and everyday indulgence.

4. Panadería El Maple
Salida a Celaya 53
8am–7:30pm, closed Sundays

Since opening in 2010, El Maple has built a reputation for creativity in the kitchen. Traditional Mexican recipes meet contemporary twists in items like chocolate croissants filled with locally sourced ingredients.

The bakery emphasizes sustainability, often purchasing ingredients from nearby farms and hosting workshops that teach baking with seasonal produce. Its modern style attracts a younger crowd eager for inventive flavors.

5. Bakery Sucré
Colegio Militar 3
8am–3pm

Sucré focuses on French-inspired pastries while incorporating local ingredients. Macarons, éclairs, and tarts share the display case with desserts flavored with coconut, mango, and other regional touches.

Known for its elegant presentation, Sucré has become a favorite destination for celebrations and special occasions. The refined interior reflects its French inspiration, creating a lovely setting for enjoying coffee and a pastry.

6. Marulier Luciérnaga
Two locations – Plaza Luciérnaga, Lib. José Manuel Zavala 165, and Ancha de San Antonio 121
8am–10pm

One of the newer additions to the local bakery scene, Marulier focuses on organic, gluten-free, and vegan offerings. Its gluten-free brownies and organic breads have quickly gained a loyal following.

Workshops and classes encourage customers to explore healthier approaches to baking and cooking. Bright interiors and eco-friendly practices make both locations welcoming spaces for the community.

How to Best Enjoy These Bakeries
Together, these establishments form an important part of San Miguel’s culinary landscape. They blend Mexican tradition with European technique while serving as gathering places for the community.

My favorite way to experience them? A bakery crawl.

Exploring several bakeries in one afternoon is a delicious adventure. Each stop offers new flavors, stories, and specialties. Whether you’re savoring a flaky croissant or enjoying a slice of tres leches cake, every bite reflects the rich cultural influences that shape the city’s food scene.

So grab some friends, lace up comfortable shoes, and set out on a sweet exploration of San Miguel. With so many tempting options along the way, you might just wish for a second—or even a third—stomach.
Happy munching!

Michael Solof leads SMA Adventure Hound, a group that takes locals and newcomers to brunches and dinners at different restaurants every week. He also offers classes in the Art of Smartphone Photography. You can contact him via WhatsApp +1-443-310-9214 for more info and to reserve.

Huatulco, San Miguel de Allende

Editor’s Letter

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By Jane Bauer—

“Peace cannot exist without justice, justice cannot exist without fairness, fairness cannot exist without development, development cannot exist without democracy, democracy cannot exist without respect for the identity and worth of cultures and peoples.”
–Rigoberta Menchú Tum (Guatemalan
Indigenous Rights Activist, 1990 UNESCO Prize for Peace Education, 1992 Nobel Peace Prize Winner

Mexico is often misunderstood. For many outsiders, the country exists as a kind of postcard: bright colors, mariachis on every corner, sombreros, tequila, and fiesta. The image has become so exaggerated that it borders on parody. Mexico is reduced to a handful of clichés that flatten the depth and diversity of the country. The reality is much more layered.

One of the things that has struck me most during my years living here is how strongly people identify simply as Mexican. In Canada or the United States, identity is often expressed through hyphenated heritage; Italian-American, Chinese-Canadian, Irish-American. Cultural roots remain visible and frequently celebrated.

In Mexico, those histories are often quieter, woven into the fabric of everyday life rather than worn on the surface. The result is a national identity that feels cohesive, but it can also obscure just how many different cultures have helped shape the country.

Like many countries, Mexico wrestles with questions of identity, belonging, and prejudice. Conversations around gentrification, migration, and “foreigners” have become increasingly heated in recent years. At the same time, Mexico itself has been shaped by centuries of migration.

Indigenous civilizations laid the foundations of this culture long before the arrival of Europeans. Spanish colonization profoundly altered the landscape. Later came immigrants from France, Lebanon, Germany, China, and beyond. Each group left its mark—sometimes subtly, sometimes dramatically. We see these influences in architecture, food, language, music, fashion, and even urban planning.

This month, The Eye explores one of those threads: the French connection. From pastry techniques that transformed Mexican bakeries to artistic exchange, architecture, and politics, the relationship runs deeper than many people realize. Recognizing these influences does not diminish Mexico’s Indigenous heritage. One of the country’s greatest strengths is that Indigenous traditions are visible in daily life in ways that are rare in the rest of North America.

But culture is never static. It evolves, absorbs, adapts, and reinvents itself. Mexican culture, as we know it today, is the result of centuries of exchange layered together into something entirely its own. That complexity is not a weakness. It is one of Mexico’s greatest strengths.

Thanks for reading and see you next month!

 

San Miguel de Allende

SMA Writers’ Conference & Literary Festival: Holding the Megaphone

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By Estefanía Camacho

The writer Margaret Atwood (1939), widely recognized for her work in speculative fiction and for her dystopian novel turned into a film and television series, The Handmaid’s Tale, said she has never quite understood why Elon Musk, the owner of SpaceX, is making so much money. “You’re not ever going to live on Mars. I’m here to tell you,” the Canadian author said, prompting laughter during the closing keynote of the 21st San Miguel Writers’ Conference & Literary Festival.

Approximately 1,750 people attended the event, about 250 more than in 2025, enjoying four days of stimulating talks alongside morning yoga and writing sessions. From February 11 to 15, participants learned how to write memoir, poetry, short stories, crime fiction, and how to give voice to characters, guided by internationally renowned speakers such as Jennifer Clement, Elizabeth Santiago, Susan Brown, and Sandra Cisneros, the multi-award-winning recipient of the PEN America Literary Award. Sessions were held in tents spread across the grounds of the Hotel Real de Minas, a six-minute walk from the warm, radiant historic center of San Miguel de Allende.

Maira Kalman, Sandra Cisneros, and Yásnaya Aguilar
The acclaimed keynote lectures were among the most anticipated moments of the afternoon, with the conference opening on Wednesday, February 11, led by Abraham Verghese. At certain times, other roundtable discussions opened space for dialogue on a range of topics, with artificial intelligence emerging as a particularly popular theme.

On the second day, Maira Kalman (1949) spoke about her book Women Holding Things (2022). She explained how the project began during the pandemic. “What do women hold? The home and the family and the children and the food, the friendships, the work, the work of the world and the work of being human, the memories and the troubles and the sorrows and the triumphs and the love. Men do as well, but…” she recited emotionally. Kalman reflected on care, beauty, and the quiet persistence of daily work, arguing that in moments of collective anxiety, the most radical acts may simply be to keep working, notice beauty, and help those who need it.

Later that afternoon, Sandra Cisneros and Yásnaya Aguilar Gil, the Mixe writer from Oaxaca, led a close conversation in Spanish with a small group of attendees. Cisneros confessed how she thought she’d speak more with Mexicans since the first time she attended the festival, but realized it was mainly for English language speakers. “So we want these programs to include the Mexican community, to decolonize it, but we have to figure out a way for them to be free, truly free for the Mexican public,” she said, although this year some workshops were held in Spanish and offered to teenagers as well.

Yásnaya reflected on the panel’s theme of activism and literature, emphasizing that activism does not always look like constant resistance. Sometimes, she said, it looks like resting –and that does not mean abandoning the struggle. “When my community appointed me as a spokesperson in defense of water, I had my grandmother and many others who would have coffee and food waiting for me when I returned from assemblies. There is no such thing as heroic individual activism. It is sustained by the work of many.”

Cisneros also addressed the fact that right-wing religious groups have called for her book The House on Mango Street –now 42 years since its publication– to be removed from school programs. “They haven’t targeted my book specifically. It’s not that they chose only me,” she said, switching seamlessly between English and Spanish. “So I don’t take it personally. And I’m sure they haven’t read my book. The good thing is, they give me great publicity.”

Rebecca Kuang: A Call to Let Go of Nostalgia
As the afternoon progressed, excitement built for another highly anticipated keynote. The room erupted into thunderous applause as New York Times bestselling author Rebecca Kuang (1996), better known as R.F. Kuang took the stage. Young, with a soft, slightly high-pitched voice, she delivered a message in a tone so gentle it felt hypnotic.

Speaking about her novel Babel, or The Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators’ Revolution which draws parallels between a fantastic world and the reality of pursuing an academic degree. Kuang argued that one must break the illusion.

She went on to discuss the three myths that we cling to about the university: first, that academia is a pathway to upward socioeconomic mobility; second, that it is meritocratic; and third, that it is a site of free speech and political resistance. “I’ll argue all of these myths are false. They don’t describe any American university that exists. Indeed, they don’t even describe any university that existed in the past. We’re defending a nostalgic vision of that which never was.”

The audience listened, stunned, but engaged. With no guarantee that a college degree will lead to a well-paying job, she added, “These kids do not have the leisure to read Homer because they need that perfect transcript.” suggested Kuang and asked to extend more empathy toward students navigating precarity, including those who turn to AI out of desperation rather than laziness. The line earned vigorous applause.

Kuang did not leave the audience without answers. She proposed honoring forms of knowledge-sharing outside formal degree programs, just as much as we honor twelve sleepy undergrads. She praised adult learners as some of the best students and explained that she also offers a creative writing workshop for her community much like the one she teaches at Yale, with the costs partially contributing to a fund for children in Palestine. The audience rose in a standing ovation.

Day 3: Oral Tradition and the Written Word
The following day, Yásnaya Aguilar opened her lecture first in Mixe and then in Spanish, with interpretation provided for some attendees. She explained that literature is only one of the many possibilities encompassed by the poetic function of language. For her, it is not a problem that Mixe oral narratives are not validated as “literature,” since that label applies specifically to works produced within the Western tradition. “Mixe oral tradition narratives are not literature, and that’s not a bad thing. They are, however, a clear example of how the poetic function is exercised in this language.”
She emphasized that a community’s tradition of memory is collective, likening it to jazz. “While there is a shared structure, each performer of the memory tradition will execute it differently.”

That same afternoon, the lecture by Argentine writer Andrés Neuman (1977) felt like a direct dialogue with Yásnaya’s talk. With hints of stand-up comedy despite the seriousness of his ideas, Neuman demonstrated that the universal language of laughter requires no translation. He recalled how his grandmother kept to herself the fact that she used to be a translator from Yiddish into Spanish. Then he also spoke tenderly about documenting his child’s first words and early sentences. “We don’t remember, astonishingly, learning how to speak. And I suspect literature exists because of that gap. Poetry, in particular, exists as an attempt to remember that once we didn’t know how to speak, and we tried.”

Neuman also described his fascination with the life of María Moliner, the avant-garde librarian who single-handedly produced the most comprehensive dictionary of Spanish, which inspired his novel Until It Begins to Shine (2025).

That evening, three teenage writers were recognized among 70 students from Guanajuato who had attended workshops to write short stories. The moment deeply moved Neuman, who sees this kind of care as central to his idea of literature: caring for thought, and thinking about care. “That’s what festivals like this do,” he said.

Day 5: Margaret Atwood, Memory, and Times of Turmoil
The festival closed with Margaret Atwood, who reflected on memory, protest, and political instability following the publication of her 2025 memoir, Book of Lives: A Memoir of Sorts. In a conversational keynote, Atwood revisited moments, repeating an interesting advice she provides in her book to “hang on to the megaphone” recounting how she once went for a walk with a friend then joined an anti–Vietnam War march. “We marched to the Boston Common, where the American Nazi Party took away our megaphone… So hang on to the megaphone. Don’t let them Nazis take it away from you.”

She also recalled a public event in Montreal where, during a Q&A session, someone asked whether The Handmaid’s Tale was autobiographical. “And I said, ‘No, it isn’t.’ And he said, ‘Yes it is.’ And I said, ‘No, it isn’t, it’s set in the future.’ And he said, ‘That’s no excuse.’ In a way, he was right, because anything you write goes through your head. Of course, the experiences you’ve had, the people you’ve met, the places you’ve lived: all of that comes in handy one way or another.”

Finally, and after questioning Musk’s wealth, despite acknowledging a time of turmoil and change that is not entirely under our control yet deeply affects us, Atwood expressed hope. She argued that while this may not be the worst moment in history, it does make us more aware of what we once took for granted, including a supposed Pax Americana, that seems to be crumbling. “We have to make it clear that this is not a problem of peoples; it’s a problem with an administration,” she said, touching her pacemaker to tell the audience to “Keep your nerve, and keep good relations wherever you can.”

Estefanía Camacho is a freelance Mexican journalist working across media and digital magazines. She is a specialist in gender, SMEs, economics, and business.

http://www.sanmiguelwritersconference.org

 

San Miguel de Allende

Healthy and delicious dining in San Miguel

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By Michael Solof

San Miguel de Allende isn’t just about the colorful buildings and lively streets—it’s turning into a solid spot for healthy eating too. More folks are paying attention to what they eat, and the restaurants here have stepped up with fresh ingredients and menus that work for different diets. Whether you’re vegan, avoiding gluten, or just want something lighter, there are excellent choices available around town.

Spots range from laid-back to a bit more polished, so you might find yourself eating in a quiet garden, on a sunny patio, or at a shared table where the vibe feels easy and welcoming. Here are a few standouts for healthy dining in San Miguel de Allende. Each one has its own style but sticks to quality ingredients so the food not only tastes good but is also good for you. Locals and visitors alike keep coming back to these places time and time again for a reason.

RUSTICA – Salida a Celaya 34
Everyday 8am – 5pm

Rustica is one of those places that gets healthy eating right. I went for the breakfast bowl and lentil soup last time, and both were full of flavor without any heavy seasoning. They let the ingredients do the talking, which is nice. The green juice was fresh and gave me a good boost to start the day.

The space feels calm from the second you walk in—like a quiet garden with all sorts of beautiful plants around. The front patio is fine even if you’re near the street, but the back one is especially nice when the weather cooperates. It’s peaceful without being too isolated. The staff is friendly and on top of things. They make you feel at home right away and are great at keeping everything running smooth and relaxed.

They have plenty of plant-based and gluten-free dishes, and you see people ordering breakfast tacos or smoothies that look just as fresh. The menu covers a lot, from breakfast sandwiches to mole eggs, and prices stay reasonable for the quality. It’s easy to understand why this spot stays busy. If you’re after a healthy breakfast or lunch in a chill setting, Rustica is a reliable pick. It’s definitely one of my favorite places to take visitors.

NÉCTAR – Correo 43
Wednesday-Sunday 8:30-4:30pm

Nectar has become a popular hot spot for people looking for healthy meals. The place mixes a cozy indoor area with loads of beautiful artwork, with a nice outdoor patio, so it feels inviting no matter where you sit. The menu works for vegetarians, vegans, and anyone gluten-free. I liked the roasted vegetable omelette—it came with delicious potatoes on the side—and the mini tamales were a fun, satisfying option. They do creative things like Earl Grey-infused black beans or chilaquiles with sesame, keeping things lighter but still tasty. Desserts like chocolate cake are worth saving room for, and portions are generous.

The helpful staff will suggest dishes if you need ideas. They‘ve never made a bad suggestion in all the times I’ve visited. While you wait, you can check out the gift shop with home decor and glass hummingbird feeders. It adds a little extra to the visit.

Nectar is about the whole experience: solid food, a relaxed spot, and friendly people. It’s great for breakfast or lunch, and it quickly becomes one of those places you’ll want to revisit again and again.

OJO DE AGUA – The Corner of Correo and Portal de Guadalupe, near the Jardin – hours vary, check locally.

Ojo de Agua sits close to the Parroquia and Jardin, making it an easy stop when you’re out walking. The inner courtyard is a peaceful break from the bustle, with plants, swinging hammocks and nature sounds all around.

The menu focuses on fresh, simple dishes. I had chilaquiles and avocado toast, both made with really good ingredients that let the flavors stand out. Friends tried the matcha tea cakes with ricotta, and tuna tacos—everything came out perfectly. They have lots of vegan-friendly and lighter options, plus made-to-order juices and smoothies. It’s one of the best juice places in SMA!

The quesadillas are another solid choice, showing how they turn basic ingredients into something filling. The garden seating, including swings, gives it a fun, relaxed feel. It’s a good place to settle in for breakfast or lunch without being rushed. It’s worth stopping by if you’re nearby and want something wholesome.

DON TACO TEQUILA – Calle Dr Ignacio Hernandez Macias 83 Everyday 2pm -10 pm

Don Taco Tequila does fully vegan Mexican food in a way that works even if you’re not usually vegan. The dishes feel hearty and creative. Some favorites are the corn ribs, tequila nachos, and tacos like chicharrito (vegan chicharrón style), mayahuel in lettuce wraps, baja, and spicy chorizo. Vegan staples are in plentiful supply there and they use lots of vegetables, grains, legumes, mushrooms, and avocado, so the meals are nutritious without a single animal product in sight. The mushroom quesadilla has a nice texture that feels close to meat but stays plant-based. There’s also a spinach and quinoa salad with roasted tomatoes and agave-sesame dressing, or quesabirria for that classic flavor.

They also serve a tasty selection of all sorts of drinks including ginger lemonade, Jamaica options, and cocktails like the Jamaica mezcal margarita. Many folks go there just for the drinks; they are that good!

I talked with Hernando, the owner, during my visit. He’s been vegetarian his whole life, even though he grew up in northern Mexico where carne asada was everywhere. He opened Don Taco Tequila in 2012 believing tacos could be a base for more refined Mexican flavors. The restaurant slowly evolved into being fully vegan, and he’s proud of helping people try cruelty-free food without feeling like they’re missing out.

He feels the main challenge he faces is the word “vegan” which sometimes turns people off, but changing people’s minds and seeing his customers enjoy his food, year after year is the best part of his job. Dishes like the Bigotes taco and Mushroom Mixote show how simple ingredients can make a complete, flavorful meal. Hernando says the real draw is the atmosphere there, and everyone from staff to customers adds to the positive energy that pervades the place. Food, he says, brings people together and he loves providing that chance.

As you check out these healthy spots in San Miguel de Allende, it’s clear you don’t have to give up great taste to eat well. And all these restaurants use fresh ingredients and create welcoming spaces where you can relax and enjoy. It makes every meal feel like a small but wonderful discovery. So, whether you’re after a big meal or just something super refreshing like a delicious salad, soup, fresh juice, or smoothie. There’s something available for every type of tasty and dietary desire.

Healthy eating in SMA can be both easy to find and incredibly enjoyable. Ya just gotta get off the couch!

Michael Solof leads SMA Adventure Hound, a group which takes locals and newcomers to brunches and dinners at different restaurants every week and he also offers classes in the art of smartphone photography. You can contact him at WhatsApp +1-443-310-9214 for more info and to reserve.

Huatulco, San Miguel de Allende

Editor’s Letter

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By Jane Bauer—

“We are here to awaken from our illusion of separateness.”
Thích Nhat Hanh

When you rant or retort obnoxiously on social media, it is like holding a hot coal in your hand and expecting someone else to burn. Your comment affects everyone who reads it — including you. Cortisol rises. Stress follows.

I opened my phone this morning and within minutes my nervous system was lit up. News of a cartel shooting. Messages asking if I was okay. A fire in Xadani. Canadians ranting about Mexicans ripping them off. Mexicans ranting about Canadians being cheap and gentrifying their country.

Stress — the invisible toxin.
Every time we open our phones and consume outrage, our bodies release cortisol. Heart rate increases. Inflammation pathways activate. The nervous system does not distinguish well between physical danger and social conflict; it simply reacts. Living in a constant state of judgment is physiologically corrosive.

Yes, we are living longer than previous generations. Medicine has dramatically extended lifespan over the past century. But we are also surrounded by more environmental toxins than ever — pollutants in our water, plastics in our oceans, chemicals measurable in human blood. Chronic disease now dominates modern life. We have prolonged years, but have we protected vitality?

To be healthy is to be whole — regulated, connected, integrated. Healthcare, at its root, should mean caring for that wholeness.

We often talk about “coexisting,” as if we are separate entities sharing space. In reality, we are deeply interconnected. Like a tree that depends on the quality of the river from which it drinks, the tree and the river are one. Separation is an illusion.

Be more understanding. Be more open. Assume good intentions more often than not. Regulate your nervous system. Put the phone down. Cook something real. Hug a tree and a stranger. Sit across from someone different from you and listen.

Wholeness isn’t optional; it’s essential. And in a time like this, choosing calm may be one of the most radical health decisions we can make.

See you next month,

Jane

San Miguel de Allende

Long Journey Home

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a personal essay by Bonnie Lee Black, January 2026—

“What does ‘died’ mean?,” I asked my mother when I was four and my best friend Ruthie, who was five, had just died of leukemia. I’d never known anyone who’d died.

My spirited young mother, who was not in any way spiritual or religious –her whole philosophy of life had been, “When you’re alive, you live; when you die, you’re dead” — made up a glowing story for me:
“Ruthie has gone to a better place,” she said convincingly. “She’s gone to live with God in his home in Heaven, where there is no sickness, no pain, and no tears. God saw that Ruthie – such a good girl! – had been very sick and in pain, so he decided she’d be happier with him. She’ll never be sick again.”

My first thought was, “Lucky Ruthie!” My second was, “How is it that my Mom suddenly believes in God?” Always before, the word God had only been an angry epithet in our house. But since that day – since the day my mother made up that story to console me – I’ve never feared death. Something about it felt profoundly true, even to the four-year-old me: This life on earth is not all there is.

Before she became ill, Ruthie had told me a little bit about God. Being a year ahead of me, she had started Catholic school, so every afternoon after school she painstakingly shared with me what she’d learned that day from the nuns.

“Look up there,” Ruthie instructed me, pointing to the sky, as we sat on her front porch side by side. “See that big cloud? God is behind that cloud, looking down at us. He’s like a loving father watching over us.”

This was news to me, and I found it thrilling. In my Protestant family, which never attended church and where my father was always enraged and often belligerently drunk, the thought of a loving, caring, fatherly God up there somewhere was irresistible. I credit my friend Ruthie for putting me on my spiritual path.

It’s been a long and rocky road, I confess. I’m eighty now; and when I look back on my life, I can clearly see the main turning points on this journey that have led me to where I am today, spiritually speaking.

In my adolescence, when World War III was raging at home in the runup to my parents’ overdue divorce, and I felt desperate for some life guidance, I went to a gospel church in a neighboring New Jersey town with my friend Lindy and her family. Even after Lindy and her family moved away, I continued attending that church, faithfully and hungrily – the Sunday school classes, the morning worship services, the evening youth group meetings, the evening services. I went for the music – Bach in the morning and rousing hymns at night – for the Bible lessons, for the warmth of the people, for the messages of love and peace. I went to escape the strife at home and find a haven with the promise of Heaven.

In this small, white, clapboard church, God seemed real to me. Not cold and remote like the farthest star, but as close and vital as one’s own heartbeat. This God was an all-knowing, all-loving, all-forgiving, ever-present friend, who was worshipped, not with repetitive phrases read from a book, but with simple, spontaneous language spoken from the heart.

So I began a daily habit of waking early to read the Bible and pray before getting ready for school. I spoke to God as if He were a caring parent, asking for guidance, help with my homework, strength for the day, more faith. I applied myself to my schoolwork and became an honor student. I strove to grow wings and rise above the battlefield at home.

The fatal flaw in this rosy self-portrait was my blinkered naivete, which I’ve regretted ever since. When I was nineteen, a much-older, professional man, who was intent on marrying a blond-haired, blue-eyed, naive virgin, and who professed to me the same religious beliefs as mine, charmed me into marrying him. I learned too late that I’d only been a means to an end for him: He wanted something he could not then buy because surrogacy was not yet readily available – a child of his own, a beautiful blond-haired, blue-eyed child “for his mother to raise,” he later told me.

After our divorce and I was given custody of our baby daughter, he took her on a visitation and, along with his aging parents, disappeared.

I saw a lawyer in the office building where I worked, and he counseled me on what to do. At one point he leaned over his desk, cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth, and said, “From now on you’ve got to live like a f*ckin’ nun. He’s probably having you followed.” This man had known my ex-husband, but he didn’t know me. He didn’t know I already lived like a nun.

The FBI agent who was assigned my case told me coldly one day when I visited his office and begged him for news, “You are just a number in our files.”

An elder of my church took me aside one Sunday evening to inform me I could never marry again because our church didn’t recognize divorce. If I did remarry, I’d be “living in sin,” he said. (I immediately thought: I don’t need to bother to get married again to live in sin.) I never returned to that church.

People who knew me and knew my story treated me pityingly, and I hated them for it. Good people who didn’t know me but learned of my story regarded me with suspicion – because, after all, in their world, and according to their beliefs, bad things only happen to bad people.

Every doctor I visited about my severe stomach pain and weight loss tried to prescribe tranquilizers or antidepressants for me, but I refused them all. I chose to remain clear-headed and not drugged into docility. I chose to harness my pain and fury.

And so began my many years of boxing with God. I moved to New York for its promised anonymity, at the same time the Broadway musical, “Your Arm’s Too Short to Box with God,” had opened. Ha! I thought, seething, MY arm’s NOT too short to box with God! My anger toward my God was incendiary. My prayers were vitriolic. HOW COULD YOU?, I shouted between clenched teeth, WHY DID YOU LET THIS HAPPEN TO ME? I WAS A GOOD GIRL! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS ANGUISH? WHERE IS MY BABY?! BRING BACK MY BABY!!!

I often considered suicide because the pain of not knowing where and how my daughter was, day after day, month after month, year after year, was unbearable. But I knew that if and when she was ever found, she would need me. I had to go on living – eating, sleeping, working. I had to get through this. My marching orders to myself were, “You must be strong, you must go on!” And through it all I never stopped railing at God – Why?! Why?! Why?! This phase lasted for many years.

In New York I attended Columbia University on full scholarships; I enlarged my mind. In New York I met people of all colors, shapes, sizes, stories, ethnicities, abilities, and religions and had many Jewish friends; they enlarged my heart.

In New York I wrote a book in which I shared my personal story for the first time, and a prominent New York publisher published it. That book found my daughter for me and helped thousands of others who’d experienced similar heartbreak and loss due to parental child abduction.

In New York I learned a life-altering lesson: The God whom I’d been railing at for so many years had used me for good. This seeming tragedy had turned to triumph.

In my fifties I joined the Peace Corps and served for two years as a health and nutrition volunteer working with mothers and children in Gabon, Central Africa. After my Peace Corps service, I went up to Mali, West Africa, and created an economic development project working with Malian women and young girls.

Mali is a predominantly Muslim country, and I came to deeply admire the good, kind, generous, God-loving Muslim people I got to know in the three years I lived there. As part of my morning devotions I read N. J. Dawood’s English translation of the Koran, and I was profoundly moved by the beauty of it.

Ten years ago I retired to the beautiful old small city of San Miguel de Allende in the central mountains of Mexico, and this is where I plan to stay. San Miguel is called el corazon de Mexico – the heart of Mexico. Mexico in its entirety to me has enormous heart, so Mexico has become my heart’s home.

Mexico is a predominantly Catholic country, and I highly respect the Mexican people’s adherence to their religious traditions. But I could no more become a Mexican Catholic than I could have become a Malian Muslim or a Jewish New Yorker. So I ask myself, What am I now?

It seems as if in all my years of grappling with God and stumbling upward along my spiritual mountainous path I’ve come up with my own religion, which is not a religion at all. “Religion” to me denotes manmade dogma, and mine eschews such dogma. I no longer attend church. I cannot honestly repeat the Apostle’s Creed. I do not believe, as most manmade religions do, that women are meant to be subordinate. I do not believe, as most white men do, that white men are superior. I strongly believe all of us are equally valuable and all of us have important roles to play in this life on earth.

But I’ve never stopped praying – not to a big old white guy in the sky tucked, like the Wizard of Oz, behind a cloud, nor to a young Middle Eastern man being tortured to death on a roughly hewn wooden cross, but to what I like to think of as the Great Spirit, the term indigenous Americans use. A benevolent power available to all, beyond description, beyond definition.
I believe in this God because I must. Where else could I possibly put my trust? Men? Money? Political or religious leaders? No. The God I believe in has brought me through hell on earth and taught me so much: Everyone has heartache. Everyone suffers pain and loss. This life is a test, the Koran says; we must just do our best.

I still pray every day. I pray for the things I lack: patience, tolerance, love, understanding, empathy, compassion, strength, fortitude, grace, wisdom, and more. And every day I get just enough of these to last for that day. I give thanks for my many blessings, especially for bringing me to Mexico, where my ashes will be buried on a mountaintop.

I have no fear of death; in fact, I look forward to the next realm, the last stop on this spiritual journey, where my soul will finally be at home. Maybe — who knows? — I’ll even be reunited with Ruthie.

An honors graduate of Columbia University in New York, Bonnie Lee Black is the author of six books, including the memoir SOMEWHERE CHILD about her daughter’s abduction by her father (Viking Press, 1981). Bonnie’s essays have appeared in numerous literary journals, and for the past ten years she has been writing a weekly blog from her adopted home, San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. For more information, please visit: http://www.bonnieleeblack.com

San Miguel de Allende

The History of Jazz in San Miguel

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By Salomon Maawad—

It all began in August 1979, with an acoustic guitar and an alto sax, on a small, unassuming stage at Mama Mia Restaurant. San Miguel was a small, sleepy town at the time—blessedly quiet, with no buses and very little traffic. Its music scene, however, was about to explode into life.

The Luna family, owners of Mama Mia, were inspired by that first duet and offered me a three-month contract to play every weekend, if I could put together a jazz quartet.

Most of the musicians I knew lived in Mexico City, which at the time was a five- or six-hour commute. Nonetheless, that same year the quartet was formed, and soon we were playing at Mama Mia five days a week. And that is how the Downbeats began their long and amazing career.

The Downbeats included the legendary Marlow Wolf on piano, Chava Martinez on bass, Jorge Leal on drums, and me on saxophones. Over the years, almost one hundred musicians have participated in the band, and many decided to remain in San Miguel, enriching the culture immeasurably. Some became cornerstones of the local music scene—super-talented musicians such as Gil Gutiérrez, Bob Kaplan, José Luis Hopalong, Ken Basman, Toño Lozoya, and Gabriel Hernández. Others went on to different cities where they achieved international fame, including Lila Downs, Magos Herrera, and Janusz Bakum (musical director for Ricky Martin). Still others have passed on and are sorely missed.

In 1994, along with Elena Shoemaker, I created the San Miguel International Jazz Festival. I served as musical director, organizer, and part-time chauffeur. I also accompanied all of the visiting singers and solo artists, including Nora York, Etta Jones, Cynthia Hilts, Denny Berthiaume, Patrice Fisher, Allen Hermann, Bob Montgomery, Tino Contreras, Bob Ackerman, Betty Farmer, Butch Miles, Randy Bernsen, Claire Daly, Mary Ann McSweeney, Henry Cook, Ron Moewes, Dennis Perrier, Eddie Daniels, Tom Aalfs, Brenda Boykin, Tomás Ramírez, John Ronstadt, David “Fathead” Newman, and many more.

The first five years of the festival were incredible—and not just the concerts. After their gigs were over, musicians would head to local bars for endless jam sessions, sometimes going until four in the morning.

As for the Downbeats, the show goes on, with new musicians, new projects, and my original compositions continuing to bring new life and new sounds to the San Miguel music scene. Over the years, I have developed as a composer, and hearing these pieces played live remains a rare treat—one that any jazz lover will savor.

ENCUENTRO NACIONAL DE JAZZ
My latest project is the XXII Encuentro Nacional de Jazz. There will be three concerts, on March 5, 6, and 7. Each concert will be completely different, so you may want to attend all three.

On March 5, there will be a tribute to Brazilian jazz, featuring the Samba Sabrosona Quartet, performing music by Tom Jobim, a key figure in the world of bossa nova. He will perform The Girl from Ipanema, Corcovado, Desafinado, and more.

March 6 will feature my own Salomon Maawad Jazz Quartet. Over a musical career spanning almost five decades, I have been strongly influenced by the legends of jazz, drawing melodies, harmonies, and rhythms from across the musical map. By incorporating the exotic rhythms of avant-garde jazz, I have developed a style that is highly original, musically complex, and pleasing to the ear.

On March 7, internationally acclaimed vocalist Ginger Leigh—whose career spans pop, rock, blues, and jazz—will bring her deep, soulful, power-packed voice (Etta James meets Bette Midler) to San Miguel. Based in Austin, Texas, Ginger leads two bands: a nine-piece jazz variety ensemble (Straight Up with a Ginger Twist) and the Ginger Leigh Band, a six-piece pop-rock ensemble.

Ginger has toured the world for decades, earning acclaim for her distinctive sound and theatrical stage presence. In addition to being a great singer, she puts on one heck of a show. Her performance will celebrate the immortal Billie Holiday and feature some of her most unforgettable songs. With her blues-infused vocal style, weaving together Texas roots, blues heritage, pop sensibility, and jazz mastery, Ginger takes those timeless classics and makes them her own.

Known for her energetic and occasionally theatrical stage antics, Ginger’s performances are tinged with humor and deep emotion—highly entertaining by any measure. This will be her second visit to San Miguel, and it is not to be missed.

All performances will take place at the Angela Peralta Theatre, beginning at 6:00 pm. Tickets are 600 pesos (luneta) and 300 pesos (general admission). Please support these projects. Your attendance will help ensure the continued presence of great music in our wonderful little city.