Atop the summit of the majestic Sierra Madres, overlooking the glow of Mazatlan's fiestas below, arrayed in Folklorico finery, swirling, swaying in shades of pastel pinks, corals, peaches and cream, she moves to her own rhythm. As her gaze sweeps down to the sea, you can taste the magic in the air of salty brine, wild Mexican strawberries, warm jasmine, and honeysuckle brought up on the breeze from below. The moon gives light to the peaks and you catch her eyes, as clear and bright as the stars reflected in them. Her look enthralls; it draws and holds you. When you taste the blood orange of her lips, the flavors of kumquat, kiwi, passionfruit and lychee mimosa linger. The blush of rose stains her cheeks, lifting and whirling away as scents of lavender, geranium, and clean linen lure you forward. Longing to savor the flavors of watermelon and jicama coated in orange chili flakes, Caldo de Langostinos with crawfish and andouille sausage, you allow her to lead you onward. And yet, you are left in wonder at the ephemeral and elusive desires that ignite passion upon mid-summer nights. 

notes by miranda thompson, vp of quality control