The smell of carne asada simmering on the stove top
still has me breathing in that intoxicating air it is swirling in
I miss the chorizo and eggs in the morning
and the spicy tamales on Christmas day
I can’t even have tacos at 3 a.m. when everyone else is craving them

and I will tell the hurtful truth,
tofu can not replace
the authentic taste of menudo

Everything hits me hard, at family parties
where the endless Coronas are filling my bloodstream
and the bowls of pozole are being passed around
People sometimes say I am not a real Mexican if I am a vegetarian

But I know who I am.

I sometimes wonder why I chose to never eat carne again
But I push away the plates and resist the temptation
of those simple joys I use to love