Mexican Jews

We hadn’t eaten at a Mexican restaurant for quite awhile, so when we had a chance to do so recently on our way back from Texas, we did so. Luck would have it that a lot of other people had the same idea. The hostess told us that they didn’t have any individual tables available, but if we didn’t mind sitting at the ‘local table’ she’d be glad to seat us. Having eaten at various Amish restaurants where ‘local tables’ are common, we were familiar with the concept. For those of you who don’t know what a ‘local table’ is, I’ll explain. It’s simply a long table that seats anywhere from 14 to 20+ people. It’s where the local residents (the PQ calls them ‘the old boys’) sit together to eat and catch up on the happenings. Knowing that we may be grilled by some of the locals didn’t stop us. We were hungry and said we’d be honored to join the locals.

We were seated across from two elderly Jewish gentlemen. We introduced ourselves and found out their names were Sid and Abe. They asked where we were from and what we were doing in town. After explaining that we were headed back to Virginia from visiting our son and his family in Texas and were staying at a local motel for the night the topic of how people moved around the country and world came up.

Sid looked over at Abe and asked, “Do you know if any of our ancestry were ever born and raised in Mexico?” Abe replied, “I don’t know, let’s ask our waiter.” When the waiter came to take our order, Abe asked him, “Are there any Mexican Jews?” The waiter said, “I don’t know Senor, I ask the cooks.”

When he returned from the kitchen after a few minutes he said, “No Senor, the cook say no Mexican Jews.” Abe wasn’t satisfied and asked, “Are you absolutely sure?” The waiter must have realized that he was dealing with ‘Gringos’ replied, “I check once again, Senor,” and went back into the kitchen.

While the waiter was away, Sid said, “I find it hard to believe that there are no Jews in Mexico. Our people are scattered everywhere.” The waiter returned and said, “Senor, the head cook, Manuel, he says there is no Mexican Jews.”

“Are you certain?” Abe asked him again. “I just can’t believe there are no Mexican Jews!” “Senor, I ask EVERYONE,” replied the waiter. “All we have is Orange Jews, Grape Jews, Prune Jews, Tomato Jews, and Apple Jews, but no Mexican Jews.”

Keep your fork


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