Cinco de Mayo commemorates the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862, when the Mexican army prevailed over French forces, only to keep fighting for a few more years over unpaid bills. For gringos like me, this means partying it up with Corona specials, burning unkempt cuticles with lime rinds, and tequila body shots slurped off my body by underage girls I'd not touch if it weren't for those margaritas and that rigorous Catholic schooling.
In reality, this meager holiday allows us to enjoy America's comfort food, whether authentic cilantro-laden beef tongue tacos, or muy cheesy Tex-Mex nachos, this nationality has its grip on more American menus than any other.
"Would you prefer smoking or non?" Overjoyed hostesses everywhere are now giddy because not they can shorten their script by one question we've heard thousands of times. Soon enough, you can sit anywhere you'd like-except for smokers. Beginning May 1, the Michigan Smoking Ban takes effect and, as a smoker, I will wallow in the stink of nicotine in public establishments for all of April. It's for the better.
NCAA's March Madness brings about a tangible form of religion to many, especially those who prefer public places of worship, which feature booze, food, and, most importantly, cable sports packages us salt of the earth people cannot quite afford. For your own mental reparation, here is your dining guide to the crème de la crème of sports pub grub across West Michigan.
You've made a New Year's resolution of getting in shape and eating healthy. Granted, the turducken stuffed with cranberry-brisket fried in lard or the fatback on Kwanzaa didn't help. Luckily, you can still eat out without becoming stuck in salad hell.
November's annual contribution to the canon of American hunger rests in pumpkin pie, turkey and stuffing. What this has to do with what actually happened-learning to catch eels and plant corn-I can't say, but I'd like to give thanks to the true Indians, whose spices catalyzed Europeans to trek the globe for them.
