Why Am I Searching the World for Mexican Food?

I enjoyed seeing a few letters in Sunday’s San Francisco Chronicle in response to my recent story about eating Mexican food in France. In the piece, I (courageously, I think) came clean about my Mexican food addiction and complained about the curry-flavored fajitas I was served in Lyon. But at least one reader, a Mr. Brown, was not sympathetic to my plight. “If Jim Benning is searching the world for Mexican food, I understand you can find it in Mexico,” he wrote. “Personally, when I go to a foreign country, I try to eat what the locals eat.” Believe me, Mr. Brown, I am not searching the world for Mexican food. I enjoyed many fine French meals in France. The trouble, you see, is that I am a Mexican food addict, owing in large part to my upbringing in Southern California, where seriously excellent taco shops can be found on almost every corner. Now, as an adult, I am powerless when confronted with Mexican food, especially when I’ve gone without for a few days, and even when I know it will be awful. So when I stumbled upon El Sombrero restaurant in Lyon, in I went. And that is when the trouble began. Alas, I suspect this is something only fellow addicts can understand. You are a lucky, lucky man, Mr. Brown. If you suffered from my condition, I know you would be more sympathetic.

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