El Chichicuilote No Speak Spanish My Love

Okay, confession time. I have a slightly unpopular opinion.

It involves food. Specifically, Mexican food. And a certain kind of bean.

Yep, we're talking about *el chichicuilote*.

The Culprit: Tiny Beans, Big Feelings

Now, I love Mexican food. Tacos? Yes, please. Enchiladas? Absolutely. Guacamole? Don't even get me started.

But these little speckled beans? They and I, we don't see eye to eye. Or bean to taste bud, if you prefer.

Maybe it's a texture thing. Maybe it's the flavor. I just... don't get the love.

Don't Get Me Wrong...

I'm not saying they're *bad*, per se. Okay, maybe I am. But hear me out!

I appreciate the tradition. I respect the cultural significance. I understand people like them.

I just don't happen to be one of those people. And that's okay, right?

"No Speak Spanish, My Love"

Imagine this: You're at a restaurant. You're attempting to order in your best (read: possibly atrocious) Spanish.

You confidently ask for your favorite dish. Then, the waiter asks, "¿Y con qué tipo de frijoles?" (And with what kind of beans?).

Panic sets in. Is this a trick question? Are there like, twenty different kinds of beans I need to know?

You vaguely remember something about "frijoles negros" (black beans). But then, you hear "chichicuilote" whispered nearby.

Suddenly, you're transported back to that one time you tried to learn Spanish on Duolingo. The owl is judging you.

"No hablo Español, mi amor!" you blurt out, completely misusing the phrase and possibly offending everyone within earshot.

Okay, maybe that's a *slight* exaggeration. But the feeling is real!

Bean There, Done That

I've tried. Really, I have. I've had el chichicuilote prepared in various ways.

I've had them in burritos, in soups, as a side dish. I've even had them mashed.

Each time, I'm hoping for a revelation. A sudden understanding. A spark of culinary enlightenment.

Nope. Nada. Just… beans.

The Search for Bean Acceptance

Maybe one day I'll understand the allure. Maybe one day my taste buds will evolve.

Maybe one day I'll be able to confidently order my beans in fluent Spanish. Without the panic.

Until then, I'll stick to my refried beans. And continue to awkwardly avoid el chichicuilote. With love (and a little bit of fear).

What are *your* unpopular food opinions? Let me know! Misery loves company… or at least, someone to share bean-related anxieties with.