OSCAR THE GOAT
There was this goat named Oscar who was born on the Gonzales strawberry farm in Irapuato, Mexico. When Oscar was just a young kid, too young to remember, his mother and father died. So instead of being raised by a goat, like a normal goat should, Oscar was raised by a very loving and motherly dog named Gloria.
Gloria was a good parent and treated Oscar as if he were one of her own pups. She taught him all she knew about life, the basics: barking, growling, begging, and above all, her favorite past-time of chasing cars, motorcycles and bikes.
Gloria was well respected in the dog community and was very strict with all the other dogs, making sure that Oscar never felt out of place. So Oscar, the goat, grew up believing he was a dog.
Now as you can imagine a goat running with a pack of dogs, chasing cars, barking and growling is a pretty unusual sight and all the Mexican town folk in Irapuato got a big kick out of it. They would hoot, holler, point and laugh at Oscar. They would throw sticks and Oscar would fetch them back. It was great fun!
But all fun must come to an end, because the truth of the matter is a goat has a very different ending then a dog, especially in Mexico on Sunday afternoons. So on an early Sunday morning in Irapuato, Oscar the goat was sacrificed to the birria gods (birria is a delicious, spicy, goat stew).
Señora Gonzalez, who happened to be known as incredibly gifted in the kitchen, put up a sign on her front yard advertising her delicious birria made from fresh goat meat (Oscar) and soon enough people came to eat the steamy, spicy, oily, red stew for 35 pesos a serving along with hot, homemade, corn tortillas with a small but delicious dessert of strawberries covered in cream. That's when a black Toyota pickup truck with California plates pulled up in front of the Gonzalez house with loud mariachi music blaring.
A Gringo popped out of the pickup truck. He was as Gringo as they get---blond hair, blue eyes and tall. But there was something funny about this Gringo---he dressed just like a Mexican farm worker. He had on huaraches (homemade Mexican sandals) and donned an old beat up straw hat. He spoke fluent Spanish with lots of slang mixed in----"no mameys" he said, "chido," he said. Everyone was impressed with his Spanish and a little confused. He slurped down his order of the birria, stuffed his face with the strawberries, stood up, then politely said, "provecho" (bon appetite) to the others still eating and asked how much he owed for the meal.
"50 pesos" replied señora Gonzalez keeping a straight face.
The Gringo gave a big smile and handed over the fifty pesos and then drove off.
Everyone hooted and hollered with laughter at the irony. The gringo that thought he was a Mexican who ate the goat that thought he was a dog.
----Por Pablo Estali----
Gloria was a good parent and treated Oscar as if he were one of her own pups. She taught him all she knew about life, the basics: barking, growling, begging, and above all, her favorite past-time of chasing cars, motorcycles and bikes.
Gloria was well respected in the dog community and was very strict with all the other dogs, making sure that Oscar never felt out of place. So Oscar, the goat, grew up believing he was a dog.
Now as you can imagine a goat running with a pack of dogs, chasing cars, barking and growling is a pretty unusual sight and all the Mexican town folk in Irapuato got a big kick out of it. They would hoot, holler, point and laugh at Oscar. They would throw sticks and Oscar would fetch them back. It was great fun!
But all fun must come to an end, because the truth of the matter is a goat has a very different ending then a dog, especially in Mexico on Sunday afternoons. So on an early Sunday morning in Irapuato, Oscar the goat was sacrificed to the birria gods (birria is a delicious, spicy, goat stew).
Señora Gonzalez, who happened to be known as incredibly gifted in the kitchen, put up a sign on her front yard advertising her delicious birria made from fresh goat meat (Oscar) and soon enough people came to eat the steamy, spicy, oily, red stew for 35 pesos a serving along with hot, homemade, corn tortillas with a small but delicious dessert of strawberries covered in cream. That's when a black Toyota pickup truck with California plates pulled up in front of the Gonzalez house with loud mariachi music blaring.
A Gringo popped out of the pickup truck. He was as Gringo as they get---blond hair, blue eyes and tall. But there was something funny about this Gringo---he dressed just like a Mexican farm worker. He had on huaraches (homemade Mexican sandals) and donned an old beat up straw hat. He spoke fluent Spanish with lots of slang mixed in----"no mameys" he said, "chido," he said. Everyone was impressed with his Spanish and a little confused. He slurped down his order of the birria, stuffed his face with the strawberries, stood up, then politely said, "provecho" (bon appetite) to the others still eating and asked how much he owed for the meal.
"50 pesos" replied señora Gonzalez keeping a straight face.
The Gringo gave a big smile and handed over the fifty pesos and then drove off.
Everyone hooted and hollered with laughter at the irony. The gringo that thought he was a Mexican who ate the goat that thought he was a dog.
----Por Pablo Estali----
Labels: birria, chivo, fresas, gringo, irapuato, strawberries
posted by 2Birds 1Stone Backyard Gardening and Living at
6:40 PM
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