“Amigos, welcome to Tio Domingo,” Salvador said in near perfect English, as he held his arms wide, and motioned for us to take any table. We were the lone customers at this the normal siesta hour of 2 O’clock. Salvador commanded a personality of a man possessed with inner peace and tranquility seldom encountered. His self-confidence rolled on the floor in front of him and put all in its path at ease.
Janet and I surveyed the Mexican café and ordered cervezas as we eyed the menu. “Something is comin’ down. I can feel something wonderful coming and it isn’t food,” I thought. “I’m here at this time for a reason not yet known. My wife invited me to a late lunch today, does she know something I do not.”
Salvador took our order. Janet selected a Mexican dish consisting of chile relleno, tamale, and salad. I ordered the Hawaiian style pork chop.
While the food was being prepared, we chatted with Salvador about land prices, as we were new to the area, and might want to buy a home in Ajijic. He explained prices of land and houses had gone up ten fold in the last 20 years.
The crust of this meal was served just before the food arrived. Salvador allowed how he had come to own this café. He had purchased the land on a Mexican high interest loan of three thousand pesos, and spent four years after his day job building the substantial walls, high ceilings, with room for 12 tables in the surrounding establishment, and a large kitchen off to the side. Six more tables, in the garden, met us before we entered the café.
The end of the first two years of business found them without money to operate the business any longer. Two bottles of whiskey, three dressed chickens, some flour and corn tortillas, beef and pork stock for soup were all they had left. Of course, plenty of salad fixings were available in the garden. Salvador and his wife knew the end of Tio Domingo was near and it was two days before Christmas.
Salvador asked his wife, “What should we do now?” Her answer was swift, “the food we have left will do us no good so we must invite everyone for a free meal and to celebrate Christmas.”
Salvador went all over the Ajijic to invite all to celebrate La Noche Buena with them. His wife and children prepared the food and made a lemon-lime punch, half of which was spiked with the whiskey.
On the Christmas Eve, tables were set and plates polished. The smell of rich Mexican soups and dishes filled the air. Salvador wondered if anyone would come, but just before the appointed hour the local mariachi band showed up explaining they wanted to play for their food. Salvador rejoiced to his wife, “at least there will be music to kiss Tio Domingo goodbye.” The music began as the candles were lit. Slowly the tables filled to overflowing. Salvador’s family served their many guest as all told stories of pleasant times at Tio Domingo. Every tortilla, cup of soup, and whiskey-flavored lemonade was served and downed by a hungry guest. The music was loud and lasted until the musicians were exhausted. It was a happy day celebrating the old good times and Navidad before they closed.
“On that night the family cleaned the café, washed every dish, and closed the business as they had every day for the preceding two years“. Salvador said, “He went to the front gate to lock up knowing it would be the last time as proprietor of Tio Domingo“. Something was amiss, as a bucket held each of the two gates open. Salvador lifted one of the buckets to the moonlight and found it was filled with pesos.
Our meal arrived and tasted somewhat like turkey and dressing and blessings, unexpected.
Since that day the business has grown and commanded clientele from the very poor to the wealthy. Every year they will celebrate Christmas with the same meal and invite all to share their wealth.
No wonder Salvador has the gift of giving and receiving written on his soul for all to see. Come see Salvador at Tio Domingo.
