Let's face it. People are complicated. And just when you think you've got someone figured out, they tell you something new that you never would have expected. Most people don't believe me when I tell them I'm bi-racial. Except that's never the term I've used to describe myself--until now. Growing up, I always told people I was half Mexican. Bi-racial wasn't even in my vocabulary. Neither was second-generation immigrant, which is also technically true. But growing up in a primarily White household with White extended family, the only thing I knew of my Mexican heritage came from the authentic tamales de puerco my mom would make for dinner, chiles rellenos that she ordered at restaurants, and a handful of other dishes that didn't quite fit in with the rest of our very American diet. If you're reading mom, I really do miss your cooking. You will forever be the chef I hope to one day impress with my own culinary concoctions. Arroz con gandules...