Second Dream, 7 AM:
Mexican Food with Avila Flower
I’m at a Mexican restaurant, and learning to run the place from a neat old woman. She has dark hair, and a very peasant-looking face; she seems very in control of the restaurant. She’s teaching me how to cook as well as how to run the business. She shows me how to make corn tortillas: she stands in the corn room, which is entirely covered on the floor with corn, it’s almost like there’s a sunken swimming pool full of corn. The floor is dull red brick, and there is a lip of brick lining the corn part. I’m standing on the floor, and she is standing in the corn, and it’s important that she has to stand there. She mixes the corn up with something, and picks up a big ball of goop, which she will fashion into tortillas. I ask her about hygeine, and whether the bricks are clean enough to eat from. She tells me that I just have to be clean, and that if I have a booger hanging out of my nose or something, to take care of it. She uses a Spanish word for it, I think she calls it “Gata de Luna,” or something sounding like that. She makes a dish with tacos using the tortillas she’s made, and puts something on it that she calls Crema de Leche sauce. She has a little shaker with some kind of spice – she tells me that it’s Avila Flower, and it is important to the dishes. There are kids here who are teasing me, saying that I’m sucking up to her, but I feel like it’s very important for me to study with her as hard as I can, because she won’t always be here to teach me.