Happy Cinco de Mayo everyone! Today, we all celebrate… ummm… Mexicans?
Time for some enlightenment, y’all: Cinco de Mayo started as a celebration of the Mexican army’s victory over the hated French at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862. It is not, as some people like to believe, the celebration of Mexico’s independence. And though it might seem silly today, defeating the French used to be a serious accomplishment. In fact, while their modern army might be composed entirely of mimes and chefs, back in the 1800′s, France’s military was some serious business. Plus, they outnumbered the Mexican forces 2 to 1. Yet the Mexican army beat them like a pinata. Like 300, but with more sombreros.
Tonight, we dine in Hell! But first… chips and salsa!
So it’s a holiday with some history, but that history’s pretty much lost for two reasons. One, it’s really only celebrated in the US and two, we celebrate all of our holidays by drinking away our feelings. (See also St Patrick’s Day, New Year’s Day, and Thanksgiving) Officially, Cinco de Mayo is now a day to celebrate Mexican culture, which is cool because Mexican culture is awesome. And by that, I mean the American interpretation of Mexican culture. And by that, I mean tacos and tequila.
Tacos are the perfect food. Perfect taste, great portion size, and they fall right in that sweet spot of inexpensive food that doesn’t seem cheap. Hell, even if you can’t eat crunchy tacos without spilling beef and other fixin’s all over, that’s why they make soft tacos.
And if that still doesn’t work, you could always wear a bib. Like an infant
And then we come to tequila. Tequila is like that old friend that you always have a great time with, until you realize they destroyed your house and stole your wallet… just like they do every time. It’s simultaneously the best drink ever and the worst decision you ever made. And I love it. Especially in margarita form, and on Cinco de Mayo, the margaritas flow like a beautiful river with salt on the shores. And maybe a flamingo shaped stirrer and an umbrella. Y’know… I really need to learn when to stop these analogies.
Final verdict: So I love Cinco de Mayo. We get to acknowledge a group of people that, let’s admit it, we’re usually pretty big dicks towards (Sorry Mexico! We love you!) We also get to celebrate the French getting their asses kicked. And most importantly, all the tacos and margaritas you can stomach. Olé.