“¿Tacos, Güero?”

Here’s drawings of some of the vendors at Foro Sol, the home of Diablos Rojos del México, my local team.

The guy at the top sells esquites and cueritos. While I don’t want to underestimate your knowledge of the cuisine of Mexico, I will write a brief sentence or two about everything. So, esquites: corn niblets served in a cup with salsa, chili, mayo, and lime. Cueritos are horrible. Wet pork rinds, essentially.

This guy sells several types of nuts, which will be served to you, the customer, on a small plate with an entirely superfluous tiny plastic spoon. Served with Valentina salsa and lime.

Beer. They sell Corona and Bud Light. 40 pesos. That’s about three U.S. dollars.

Nieves, kinda like ice with flavouring.

This fella sells obleas and other sweet things. Obleas are wafers with seeds stuck to the edge. It’s like eating slightly-sweet cardboard.

Ice lollies. (I just googled it, and apparently you call them “popsicles” in the States.)

Sabritas potato chips (that’s Lays to you), and Doritos (that’s Doritos to you).

Popcorn.

Tacos de cochinita. If you leave your seat, you can go and get them fresh. If you can’t be bothered to move, these dudes come around with a plastic tub full of semi-fresh tacos. There are three on a plate, and they come with a brilliant salsa which is kinda like a fiery guacamole.

Souvenir guy. Sells thin cushions to make the Foro Sol seats a wee bit more comfy. License plate holders, little fabric things that you can tie around your wrists, stickers, beads, and, of course, the mightiest of all souvenirs: the foam finger.

Re. the title of this post: vendors always call me “güero.” Whether I know them or not. This happens not just at the ballpark, but whenever anybody wants to try and sell me something, they call me “güero.” I am British and, thus, it has taken me a while to get used to such forwardness.