Paul Theroux, The Old Patagonian Express
An admirable decision. Except I don’t know the English for empanada (’embreaded’?). And each time local tarts (no, not empanadas, silly) address Theroux with a ‘Hey, Mister!’, I am jolted out of Mexico, and plonked in 1930s MGM Brooklyn.
So unless you can send me suggestions to replace taco, mariachi, ceviche, and tamale, you’ll have to put up with my hard-won Spanish on this site.