Monas in the window

"La Mona coqueta in the window"... Life in Portland, Oregon, April 2011.

Vuelvo... 
Although to be honest I am just going to take this whole coming back thing O N E  D A Y  a t  a  T I M E ,
Poquito a poquito.
Pasito a pasito...
No promises,
No palabras de honor... just yet. 

Still in a head-spin, mostly a self-inflicted head-spin. Before el choc wore-off, I took off-running like that Chicana Virgen de Guadalupe from Yolanda Lopez's "Portrait of the artist as the Virgin of Guadalupe,"   l  i  k  e   s o m e sort of crazy Chicana version of Run Lola Run (except for the whole boyfriend losing a stash of cash and having the mob after him part). I figured that if we were going to be here por un rato, there was NO time to waste, NO time to spare, too many plans, too much to do, too many bridges to build...

And so, I've been on a mission to find, learn, absorb everything I can while here. Through this journey, it's turned out this whole moving thing, this whole leaving behind a community I have nurtured and tried to build over the span of years was not as tragic as I first imagined... Don't get me wrong  I miss Oaxaca, but I also feel I am at a different place now since my last telenovela drama of a month ago. I've turned the drama into a learning-frenzy that I am determined to keep up until we go down south again. I know deep down inside Oaxaca is not going anywhere and neither is my love and respect for the community I have built there.

I admit that living in the US has always been hard for me. I was born here, but having spent a crucial part of my childhood in Mexico and to be ripped from it just before I hit my teenage years, left a hueco I have always been trying to fill al my life. It left me with a never ending ongoing search to recover a lost childhood. Yet this time around coming back to the US, I am learning to do so on my own terms without being ripped into pieces. Instead I have been making an extra effort to make the experience of being here as fruitful as possible. As a result this has so far changed my experiences for the good so far. No noches de ronda tomando mezcal para olvidar thank you. I am, believe it or not, enjoying este tiempo. 

How am I doing this you might ask? Well here are a few things I have been doing since I got here to turn things around: 1) I reached out to the local community radio and am now learning how to use their equipment and volunteering with them as a trade off, 2) I have found numerous interesting organizations doing all sorts of work, from urban farming where people trade crops to feminist community spaces, 3) have found a few potential spaces where I might e able to organize a few exhibits with the art work I brought back with me from Oaxaca (part of the bridge building), 4) finished designing a blog for a women artists collective in Oaxaca, 5) have found some of the most amazing coffee ever! (yes I am a coffee snob), I've eaten some amazing pie and strolled through one of the most beautiful farmers markets I have ever seen... which just happens to have an adjunct-rogue mariachi trompetista playing  to his own tune :]   I hope tell you more about him soon. 

There is so much more to tell, so much more to say, pero tengo el cuerpo cansado por ahora. Did I mention I am starting my own vegetable garden? Yeah, was out shoveling yesterday then went on to unwind and cut ivy from berry bushes that are beginning to spring up... I am guessing black berries... but will let you know when they pop out! Oh! and then there's that whole job search thing to top things off...  No time to waste too much to do :]

Postcard Love Note

Corazónes volando, Ave. Allende, Oaxaca, 29 de enero 2011. 

A postcard love note...

short, sweet, can be sent by mail, 

can be delivered personally, 

left or tucked-in somewhere

visible for the beloved to find.

I went out to pick up a few supplies from the mercado Saturday morning. Nothing better after a Friday night out with friends than tamalitos de mole negro, un atolito de panela, y unos cuantos churros for our mid-day cafecito. Got to the market and found myself in the middle of a party con todo y cumbia band. Just one of those not unusual yet unexpected surprises that make going to the mercado on a Saturday morning that much more exciting, one of those acontecimientos that makes one fall head-over-heels in-love with Oaxaca una y otra vez. Still feeling the tunda from the night before's events, zombyfied, and embrujada by the wooing cumbia beats, I took out my camera to film a little (see video bellow, I suggest watching it on the blog and not youtube for a less pixilated experience).

A que RE-CHULA es la Oaxaca...

Mercado Sanchez Pazcuas, Oaxaca, sábado, 29 de enero 2011.

Año Viejo...me dejo cosas muy buenas

Baile "meguiochiga" los invitados bailando con sus cantaritos para la coperación... Ixtepec, Oaxaca Dec. 28, 2010.

I've spent a couple of New Years in el Istmo de Tehuantepec. The last New Year's I spent there was in 2008 in Juchitan de las Flores. I love el Istmo... No no, let me rephrase that... I love love absolutely LOVE EL ISTMO... 

It is unlike any other place I have ever been to, it is unlike any other place I could ever visit. Ah but New Year's in Juchitan can be a bit of a heart stopper. T o d a v í a   me   acuerdo  walking through the streets, the clock about to strike las doce, the viejos made out of hay, dressed in old rags and stuffed with cuetes, sitting outside every other house  waiting  p a t i e n t l y  as I hurried towards la casa de la familia gathered en la septima, a section of town known for it's zapotec speaking people... 

Me  acuerdo  that all the kids in the neighborhood had begun to light fireworks on the sidewalks, los famosos busca pies my mother and father always spoke about, tiny firecrackers that kids throw at the feet of passersby hence the name. 

I can still hear the cacaphony of fiestas con banda music coming at me from different directions, desde la calle from blocked off street parties and from deep deep in peoples backyards... Laughter and chattering, clincking of glass bottles... and in the midst of it all I could only think of getting to la casa de la familia, catching snippets of el año viejo as I scurried along, corre que corre... trying to beat a ticking clock... tick, tock, tick, tock, tiCK! Yeah I didn't quite make it... 

Ya me fregue! Son las doce! and I see los viejos being taken to the middle of the street and one by one being set on fire. Whistles, baNGS, POPS! Squirting lights in every direction... los cuetes escapando de los viejos en todas las direcciones... more poPS and BANGS y PITOS!

I ended up pushing my body against the walls of the houses leaving my foreigness smeared en los muros along the way to la casa de la familia. Kids laughing excitedly, running from one side of the viejo to the other, daring each other to jump over the exploding effigy as the adults congratulated each other con abrazos, con baile, tomando, comiendo, y tomando un poco inside... 

This New Year's Eve was nothing like the one spent in Juchitan... No exploding viejos lying in the middle of the road other than the usual borrachin left in the baldio in front of the house. We did, however, manage to get to el Istmo a few days before the new year. We went on a whirlwind tour to the second day of a wedding in Ixtepec, weddings in the Isthmus last 3 days. It had been two year's since I had been back and yet it was all still so absolutely beautiful and still HOT...

On our way back we were even able to stop and let the Juchitan sun caress our skin. The jardín had been renovated and the palacio was not all grafittied or held in protest as it was last time we were there. We weaved through the istmeño crowds of men and women in their long flowing rabonas to go to the mercado to get some garnachas and drink some agua de coco. We bought betabinguis and frutas en chile y miel for the road and headed back to the city to spend New Years. 

It was a quiet one here, well almost quiet that is, would have been minus the barrage of cuetes that went off a las doce that lasted, no exageration, for over an hour. We made some dinner, listened to some music, and watched a movie with our pets coming in and out most of the night... The next day we headed for the mearcado to welcome the New Year with a tamal de mole negro... Si señor, como Dios manda!

Los novios y los cantaritos rotos, Ixtepec, Oaxaca, Dec. 28, 2010.

Oaxacan Tamales de Mole - Mmm GOOD!

Primer entry on a series on the Mercado Sanchez Pascuas...

LARGE PHTO of Mole Tamale, from Tamales Cande, at Mercado Sanchez Pascuas, September, 2010. 

In the last few years the Mercado Sanchéz Pascuas se a vuelto mas y mas IN. Go there any weekend or early weekday morning and you're sure to bump into the cool-ARTISTES-oaxaqueños, DF transplants, pochos (that would be us), and the larger foreign-local contingency in the mercado's vender flanked cramped blue corridors. I love mercados, always have. I remember as a little girl walking from our house to the mercado with my mother holding on to my hand. The smells, some good some bad, the colors, the commotion, have ever since reminded me of a little piece of that imaginary home one builds as a child. 

The Sanchez Pascuas is no exception. A medium/to small sized mercado, it is full of everything you might or might not be looking for. Beautiful large flor de calabaza blossoms, pan dulce, pollo criollo (free-range chicken), oaxaca pizza-sized-blue-corn tortillas and tlayudas, and of course seasonal finds like chicatanas (large ants used to make salsa in July), or the current favorite gusanos de maguey (maguey worms), and the old faithfuls like chapulines (a Oaxacan delicacy you must try... from the right vendor).

Down by the prepared food section you'll find Angelita's famous fresh fruit juices (no Jamba Juice here, we are talking straight from the source juice, no added shots of anything but natures own goodness), comedores, homemade food to go (YES! HOMEMADE DELICIOUSNESS made with fresh and seasonal ingredients), the memelita stand (promise to write about memelitas and tlayudas on another post), chocolate atole, and Cande's Tamales...

Banana leaf opened to reveal tamal de mole con pollo, from Cande's Tamales, Mercado Sanchez Pascuas, September 2010.

Oaxaca is probably most known for, (despite its extensive culinary variety), its mole, and the mole tamales at Cande's Tamales do not disappoint. Steaming hot, moist large banana leaf wrapped bundles of masa de maiz, mole (Señora Cande's personal recipe) y pollo... scrumptiousness cooked to perfection and brought to the mercado every morning from Cande's home. Although she no longer sells them herself, Señora Cande still makes and wraps each tamal like individual little presents delivered to us by her daughter and yerno (son-in-law).

Mmmm GOODNESS indeed! 

There are so many varieties of tamales, but I thought I would start with this one before moving on to the great unknown... 

The Weekend Chilaquile Pilgrimage

Boiling cazuelas de chilaquiles rojos y verdes, Fonda Rosita, Mercado de la Merced, Oaxaca, August 2010. 

Living in Oaxaca you soon figure out that many of those traditional mexican dishes you grew up with, in my case, or just know from your local mexican restaurant, are given a unique and distinctly Oaxacan twist. Yep welcome to Oaxaca Nation, a place that often feels like a foreign country, no where more evident than in its culinary traditions. The sheer variety, complexity, and Mmmmm sooooo goodness of Oaxacan food, is in my humble opinion some of the best food you will ever have. Como dicen por allí, panza llena corazón contento, and contento is a good way to describe ones heart after a good mole.

And so this brings me to a new and wonderful tradition we have begun to exercise thanks to two good friends who recently left Oaxaca for new adventures, the weekend chilaquile pilgrimage. Like a good mexicana, I love my chilaquiles. Those crispy tortillas drenched in a homemade salsa, mixed with blanquillos (eggs), and drizzled with queso fresco or ranchero, were often only a weekend treat while growing up in LA and a favorite breakfast pick during my travels through México. No pressure, but chilaquiles are one of those dishes that can make or break a place for me. Yeah I'm one of those that scouts a mexican food menu before I go in, if in the US I see fajitas I am usually out the door before you can say con queso! Yes I can be an annoying mexican food purist, but that doesn't mean I don't like innovation... but fajitas just don't fit the bill as mexican food. Chilaquiles on the other hand.. Now we're talking.

Fonda Rosita sits deep within the Mercado de la Merced (as it is known locally), in a small atrium surrounded by fonditas. On Sunday's you'll often find el Señor Orquestra playing his raucous concoction of homemade instrument sounds, it's mercado day and so the mercado is full of vendors that spill out of the entrance. We had heard of the chilaquile pots a while before actually having one ourselves, but nothing could prepare us for our own boiling ollitas de barro, sauce bubbling, tortilla tostaditas peering through, and the pièce de résistance two perfectly cooked egg-islands on top. No ordinary chilaquiles indeed. I myself am partial to chilaquiles rojos, our friends seem to prefer the verdes, and well Mauricio just likes both, he'd even take yellow ones if they had some... ja ja ja!

This is how I think these particular ollitas of joy are made. Sauce, strips of quesillo (mozzarella like string cheese sold like balls of yarn in Oaxaca, strangely known as queso Oaxaca in other places), uncooked epazote, homemade tortilla chips, more epazote and sauce, ollita put on stove to boil, eggs cooked and placed on top, more sauce, served still boiling with ingredients releasing their flavors as you eat... Little pots of heaven :)

Need anymore proof? Just look at Mauricio after finishing his.

At Fonda Rosita, Mercado de la Merced, August 2010. 

Que What?!

Cloud Ocean, road to La Mixteca, Oaxaca, July 25, 2010.

It's been over eight months since Mauricio, Maya (our dog), and I began our great Mexican experience. Two 1st generation Mexican-Americans, pochos, gringos, mexicanos, and Chicanos picking up our lives to do exactly the opposite of what our parents did. We moved south. No, not just south, but deep down into southern Mexico. Yep this is when your parents begin to wonder where they went wrong...  QUE WHAT?! Oaxaca?! I can pretty much sum up my father's feelings in what a cousin asked when he found out I was living here... "What are you doing down there? I thought we were supposed to keep migrating north towards Canada!"

Then there's the other side, the how two Mexican-Americans, pochos, gringos, mexicanos, Chicanos with a dog are perceived... Errrrrrr! First sticking point, DOG. Yeah dog-as-cuddly-pet not as working beast that gets kicked around and often dumped. Guess how most people look at us when they find out our dog sleeps inside the house, has eating hours and gets walked?!!! That's right! Que WHAT?!! The MARTIANS HAVE LANDED! ...Those crazy GRINGOS I tell yah!

The physical journey from Texas to Oaxaca was long but the spiritual journey has been a hell of a ride. Lot's of soul searching, lot's of 'am I crazy, are they crazy, are we all just crazy?!"  Then there are all those little things one takes for granted, the ones that don't even cross your mind when you decide one day to pick up and move to the 'motherland.' Eight months later you wake up one day and realize Q-tips are the BOMB DIGGIDY! These imitation palillos you bought at the local supermarket SUCK! They barely have any cotton, are super flimsy, and they just don't cut it!

You know those 'what the...? QUE WHAT?!' moments, when you realize the three squares of toilet paper you pay for at public toilets are not enough. When you've gone through two boxes of energy saving eight year life light bulbs and you're told the wiring in the house you live in can only handle standard light bulbs! You know that feeling when you dream about a nice black cup of coffee order one and get an agua de calcetin instead! Que What?!

Yep those moments. Like when you order french fries and get stale potato sticks. Or when you crave some chinese food, or just want to get your grub on with some thai, indian, ethiopian or greek food and you know that if you find a place you might end up spitting the food out. Thank the gods Oaxacan food is sooooo good or you'd be in serious trouble.

Then there are those moments you seek to indulge in to feel some sort of 'normality', you know, maybe you just want to go out to see a movie... HUM! Yeah! A bit of advise... STOP! KILL THE DESIRE! KILL IT! STOP thinking about EVER watching a movie at the theatre unless you are prepared to pick between the new KARATE KID or that vampire movie, which will most likely be playing for the next four months! That's right... QUE WHAT?!

Sometimes I actually think that living in Oaxaca might have finally, finally brought out the inner gringa in me! NO, I don't mean the stereotypical Cancún spring break gringa... I got none of that... sorry to disappoint. I mean the I want to go watch a movie, go to Target, and get an IN-N-OUT burger gringa in me! The I miss my yoga class, my gym, and my Food Network, and REAL KETCHUP gringa in me! For the love of Coatlicue I am as much Mexican really as I am 'American'... and eight months after moving south I am finally relishing in the I am totally fine with my american tendencies, yeah the gringaness in me. In an often times closed and traditional society I am embracing the I get to choose what traditions I keep and which ones I let go of, just like any other american for once. Yes I am no longer afraid or concerned with the GASPS! The que what's? and it feel good. Yes, in a sense I am crossing over the que what?! line to the side where I am the one causing the que what's?!

PHEW! That felt good! I feel like I should buy myself a Harley Davidson, tie a bandana around my head, get a tattoo on my bulging shoulder, and ride out into the sunset blasting some good old American classics... ja ja ja! Ok, ok, I'd settle for Q-tips and good ketchup ;)

World Cup Cook-athon

Tomatoes, olive oil, thyme, and garlic ready for the oven... and later for fresh baked tomato bread!

Friday June 18
It's been exactly a week since World Cup Mania began in our household.  Futbol 24-7, non-stop, wake up to it and go to sleep to news or analysis about it... Our whole household and LIVES now revolve around FUTBOL! I literally feel hung over from so much futbol!

Aaaaah! But it's been great! We've had some real ups and more than few surprises. For starters SACRE BLEU! Mexico beat France 2-0!!!  and what a beautiful game it was (despite the horrible ref and the millions of undeserved yellow cards he handed out to every Mexican he could give one to). El Tri came through with flying colors making creme brulee out of the blue white and red! Ah! And then there were today's games... Germany vs. Serbia, US vs. Slovenia, and England vs. Algeria. Who would have thought Serbia would beat the Germans! The winning goal celebrated not in the field but in the stands. It was a sight to see the Serbian player running across the field jumping over several barriers and celebrating with the Serbian fans. It was hard not to get chills and jump with joy along with them.

We have been celebrating so much we literally ran out of food! There has been no time to cook, no time to organize or re-organize ourselves into an efficiently and fed household. The games, the rain and sudden chilly weather has turned our home into a cave from which neither we or our pets want to get out of. And so for the sake of sanity I decided to go on a much needed cook-athon to hold us up for at least a few days and the next round of games. 

Beef Stew with carrots, potatoes, chayote, chile serrano, onion and laurel leaves. Asian style beef strips with red pepper, sesame seeds, soy sauce, purple onion, calabacitas, fresh basil, stewed tomatoes and jalapeños. White rice with ginger. Fresh pesto from our basil garden, garlic, Chiapas dried cheese, walnuts and olive oil. The piece of resistance: a loaf of tomato bread!

And so we'll be back stocked up for the celebrations, the hibernating, the futbol drunkenness. Waiting with the rest of the world for those long anticipated moments when the ball finally crosses the line, feeling the absolute joy in the kicker's face and his teammates, the stands going absolutely wild with disbelief, happiness, relief, and hope! 

That is why we love futbol! That grassy field where Algeria can tie yee all powerful England, where the Serbs can win over the German machine, and where the Mexican team can win once more la guerra de los pasteles (pastry war)... At the risk of sounding cheesy, it's a field of dreams where  many times the so called people of the 'third world' can dare to dream for at least 90min...

Growing things

Mi prized Sage / Salvia, Colonia Estrella, Oaxaca de Juárez, 7 de junio, 2010.

I am in love! And like all people in love I must climb upon the highest hill and yell it out to the four winds... LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!

Nothing new I know, but lately there's a renewed fluttering in the heart, a woozing buzz that only a teenage crush can bring. Let the cheese balls roll! I'm feeling cheesy and it feels great!

The cause of so much excitement and gooey gushing is our growing backyard garden :) 

There's nothing better than reveling in the morning dew drinking coffee, observing, pruning, and rediscovering our potted wonderland before the oven-like heat wave blanket smothers the city once more.  

I love plants!  I just can't help it. I AM A PLANT FREAK, as M would say. How could I not be? I come from a long line of plant freaks. On my mother's side, I can still remember my great grandmother abuelita Rita tending to roses. My abuela Petra's overcrowded and dropping avocado tree in la Marengo (a house my grandparents lived in on Marengo street in East L.A.). And who can forget her iconic nopalitos. Then there were those spring visits to the Homedepot garden section with my mother. Oh how we would try desperately to contain ourselves like two addicts without avail! Never failed to roll out with a cart full of plants often forgetting whatever excuse we used to go inside in the first place. And then there is her garden. My mother's irises, roses, succulents, and blooming rainbow flowers. Ah and that most prized of  all her fruit trees, her fig tree. Oh how I love her fig tree! Lucious drops of sweetness... YUM! Then my father who comes from a long line of farmers, working the dry clay-like land they inherited from the revolution. Corn, beans and papaya... I'd say I am doomed to be a plant freak... Yep, I'm a goner!

It's been less than a week since we returned from Chiapas so I have been obsessed with discovering changes. The cilantro, dalia, and spinach seedlings have sprung. The ginger I planted is sprouting. My sole sage plant (my prized plant since it is hard to find here and I grew it from an old packet of seeds I found) is bigger. Oh that plant that was doing absolutely nothing a few months ago is flowering!

Forgive me for gushing but I just can't help being excited over the things that grow in our garden :]

A little music

Cilantro seedlings, Colonia Estrella, Oaxaca, June 7, 2010.

Spinach seedlings, Colonia Estrella, Oaxaca, June 7, 2010.

Ginger sprouts, Colonia Estrella, Oaxaca, June 7, 2010.

The once lazy plant, Colonia Estrella, Oaxaca, June 7, 2010.

Succulent antenas, Colonia Estrella, Oaxaca, June 7, 2010.



'Kaliman in tomato and basil,' Colonia Estrella, Oaxaca, June 7, 2010.

When it's hot... ICE-CREAM!

Helado de leche quemada con tuna, Mercado de Ocotlán, Oaxaca, México, 2010.

There's no denying it, no use in pretending... I have a crazy sweet tooth. Got it straight from my father. I can still see his black mustache sprinkled with chocolate cupcake as I stormed all through the house, opening and slamming doors. Smoke rings coming out of my ears and nostrils as I tried to identify the culprit. The one who dared to steal one of my lovingly baked cupcakes for school. My father's ojos de vago barely able to contain their giggles as I interrogated him about the missing cupcake. No mija no fuí yo! Como crees! No mija preguntale al Edgar! My brother Edgar AY! An even more extreme case of uncurable sweet tooth in the family... Could have been if only my father's a la Jorge Negrete signature mustache had not given him away...

Oh how times change... or do they... The days in Oaxaca are simultaneously getting longer and hotter and we are only in February. We've been warned over and over again of just how hot it will be come April. I suppose the heat might not be too bad if it weren't for that darn almost vertical hill we have to trek to get to our house... So how has one uncurable sweet tooth decided to pass the next few weeks dealing with the abominable ball of flames shinning down on Oaxaca? ICE-CREAM of course! Had my first glass of leche quemada with tuna, (burnt milk and prickly pear, a favorite combination here in Oaxaca, and although it might sound strange to many it is really REALLY YUMMY delicious!), not long ago, and shared a tres marias, (three different flavored ice scream scoops in a wafer cone topped with chocolate, whip cream, waffer cookie, and a cherry on top), with M as a Sunday date... A date on which I discovered a list of flavors described as SABORES EXTREMOS!  That's right the EXTREME FLAVORS! The ones only hardcore ice-scream freaks might dare to try... mango-maracuya, kiwifresa, jicama-chile, mezcal, mango-chile, guanabana... and on and on...

All I can say is that I am ready, ready as I will ever be to take the SEs ON! I think the best way to follow my ice-scream declaration is to report back on the trials, triumphs, and tribulations that might come with eating the sabores extremos... So I sign off today with the promise of reporting back on the ice-cream eatathon.

Leche quemada con tuna, Mercado de Ocotlán, Oaxaca, México, 2010.

Thinking about FOOD!...oh and perhaps some running helmet football

Oh glorious, delicious, delicate marriage of flavors and smells that make one's mouth water like a leaky faucet!  

I am getting ready for this week's meeting of the brutes, in other words, my very first Super Bowl Party. I thought I had been to one previously, turns out it was just a regular season game that lasted an incredible amount of time. Time I spent looking out the tiny window in the attic apartment we were in. So how in all my years with one foot on one side of the border and the other on this side, did I manage to avoid this most revered American tribal ritual? And more importantly how did I manage to go through life without ever attending a single Super Bowl Party?!

Alas, I believe I did so in much the same way I managed to skip every iconic American movie made including the whole Star Wars series... It's not that I was never curious or slightly intrigued... Oh what the hell, let's just be honest... I was not...

Oh but times change. Since my youthful rebellion against all things that symbolized, at least to me, common or 'normal' Americaness, I met and fell in love with the BIGGEST AMERICAN FOOTBALL/SPORTS FAN on this side of the galaxy!... We are talking football Ph.D. analysis here!... And so it is that I went from blissful ignorance to football season connoisseur... 

Ah, but back to the main reason for this entry. We will attend our first Super Bowl gathering this Sunday and in an effort to join in the festivities in full force representing my Americaness at its stuff-your-face best, I have been scouting some possible appetizer, snack, and dishes.  Being that the two teams dueling for the most coveted trophy are from Indiana (or what my siblings and I call that large unimaginable open space smack in the center of the country "The Middle") and Louisiana, the obvious and most exciting part of this event for any foodie out there would be the vast array of Cajun food to dip ones palate in.

The dilemma now is WHAT IS ONE TO MAKE?! The usual chili/ chili dogs? Or should one venture into some Jambalaya subs?! Corn bread? Or dare I try to make sea food gumbo?!

Then again I do have a sweet tooth and the Cavalier Cook's Guava Cheese Flan looks absolutely delicious!

Hmmmm! Decisions decisions... What in the world will I make? Well I can tell you this now... I think I will have my Super Bowl dish remain a mystery until Sunday :)