Mexico is a country packed with deep cultural traditions and a fascinating history. America is a country packed with cultures transplanted from the four corners of the Earth and a history of mercilessly appropriating them for profit. Nowhere is this more visible than in the culinary sciences.

The United States and Mexico have a unique relationship: economic partners, neighbors, and (on a governmental level) even friends. The only other country that we have a similar relationship with is Canada, a country that would no doubt be in the news more often if there were throngs of French speaking men trying to sneak into Minnesota in container trucks.

In spite of Mexico's unique relationship to us, at the border, there is a mixture of cultures which is common in places where two nations meet. Hence the existence of "Tex-Mex" cuisine. But explanations as to its existence are useless when trying to explain the meteoric rise of Mexican based food. Why is Mexican cooking so often appropriated and altered by American chefs? People like Mexican food the way it is; no significant changes are necessary to get people to eat it. It was plenty tasty before Bobby Flay got his hands on it.

The addition of arugala and bleu cheese and fennel, et al. is not only unwarranted: it's downright gratuitous. Were parents having trouble getting their kids to eat beef tacos, requiring the addition of seared tuna chunks just to get them to choke it down? I hardly think so. No, this crime against simple, noble, and flavorful cuisine was perpetrated solely by wine slurping grown ups.

Imagine an upper-class man or women of the 1980's finding themselves in a Southern Californian taqueria. They have no idea what anything on the menu is, so they order something at random. They are presented with a plate with a huge burrito, a steaming pile of rice, and refried beans. Our young urban professionals were no doubt confused by what they saw, as it was not a type of cuisine they would immediately be able to recognize. Certainly, it isn't like French food, which immediately reveals that they are not eating at a "high class" establishment. They might very well ask what the ingredients of the meal are. If the staff is in a good mood, they might actually get an answer. "Beef, flour tortilla, rice, beans, cheese". No roasted corn. No thick, milk based sauce. A cheese that doesn't cost $50 a pound. In other words, food that would do nothing to distinguish its consumer as bright, wealthy, or as lover of fine food. Worse, what kind of wine matches with refried beans? (By the way, if one must consume an alcoholic beverage with Mexican food, it should never be wine. You can have either tequila, or a strong, cheap beer. This rule should be more universally enforced.)

Much like a fetishist cannot enjoy sex without his chosen prop, a food snob cannot take pleasure from foods that don't contain ingredients which have been imported. Wine snobs are the same way, because they can only appreciate a meal in connection with their beverage. They take pride in being able to match various cuisine with obscure styles and vintages of wine in much the same way that fashion designers are proud of being able to mix and match fabrics in unique ways. The end goal is much the same: to obscure a crushing lack of other talents.

Fortunately, it's still possible to find cheap, tasty, Mexican food out there (at least in California), and I believe that we will eventually come out of this phase of unrelenting culinary pretension. But even if I'm wrong, and faux Mexican cuisine goes on to smother genuine Mexican cooking here in America, I can always make the occasional jaunt across the border for my fix. My passport's in order; I don't need the damn FDA to hold my hand, and anyway, I hear you can get prescription strength antacids down there on the cheap.

-B. C. Silvia