Why Mexico Does Thanksgiving Better (and With More Tequila)

If you’ve ever tried explaining Thanksgiving to anyone outside North America, you'll know it's like trying to teach quantum physics to a Labrador. You’d think this uniquely American festival—turkeys, pumpkins, and gratuitous overindulgence—would be about as relevant in Mexico as snow shoes in the Sahara. Yet, here we are. Thanksgiving in Mexico. A holiday that, on the face of it, makes about as much sense as putting pineapples on pizza.

The first time I heard about Thanksgiving celebrations in Mexico, I was baffled. Thanksgiving in Mexico is a bit like finding a fish riding a bicycle: curious, slightly alarming, but also kind of impressive. It's not a national holiday here. There’s no long weekend, and nobody's weeping over shopping carts in a Black Friday frenzy. But make no mistake—the big bird gets roasted.

You see, Mexico and the United States share more than just a border; they share millions of families. For Mexicans who've lived in the U.S. or have relatives there, Thanksgiving is one of those American imports, like Coca-Cola or Levi’s jeans. Not native, but somehow, they've made it their own. It's a celebration, and if there's one thing Mexicans do exceptionally well, it's celebrating. Any excuse for a party, and they’ll be there with bells, mariachi bands, and possibly fireworks.

A Feast with Flair

Now, if you’ve ever sat down to a traditional Thanksgiving dinner in the U.S., you’ll know it involves a lot of beige food. Turkey? Beige. Mashed potatoes? Beige. Gravy? Also beige. Delicious? Absolutely. Visually thrilling? Not so much.

Enter Mexico. They take this beige banquet and turn it into something vibrant. Take turkey, for instance. In Mexico, it’s not just roasted—it’s often covered in mole sauce. And if you've never tasted mole, it's like putting a velvet tuxedo on your taste buds. Dark, rich, chocolatey, and spicy—turkey’s ugly cousin just turned into a supermodel.

And the sides? Forget bland casseroles. Imagine sweet potatoes with a kick of chili, cornbread with jalapeños, and maybe a bit of queso fresco. In Mexico, Thanksgiving doesn’t just warm your heart; it lights a fire in your mouth.

This is where things get a bit philosophical. Thanksgiving is about gratitude, right? Pilgrims, survival, and a shared meal with Native Americans. Lovely stuff. But in Mexico, there's an added layer. It’s a country that understands survival, struggle, and, crucially, hospitality. Invite a Mexican family for dinner, and they’ll invite their neighbors, their neighbors’ cousins, and possibly their dog. And they’ll make sure everyone feels welcome.

It’s this spirit that makes Thanksgiving in Mexico more than just a copy-paste of an American holiday. It becomes a fusion—a nod to shared histories and familial ties that cross borders. It's about remembering that life is hard, the world is complicated, but for one day, you sit down, eat too much, and remember what you’re thankful for. And then you have tequila.

Forget the Pumpkin Pie

Let’s talk about dessert. Pumpkin pie in the U.S. is an institution. It’s fine, but it’s also a bit... meh. In Mexico, desserts are an event. Flan makes an appearance. Churros might show up, possibly with a side of cajeta, a kind of goat’s milk caramel that will make you question all your life choices. And of course, there’s always a chance someone will bring out a tres leches cake. If you haven’t experienced the joy of three kinds of milk soaked into a sponge cake, you haven’t lived.

So, what’s the point of all this? Well, it’s simple. Thanksgiving in Mexico is more than an import. It's a reminder that cultures are not fixed entities. They’re living, breathing things that adapt and grow. Mexicans have taken an American holiday, added their own spices, and created something uniquely beautiful.

Is it traditional? Not in the slightest. But let’s be honest, traditions are there to be played with. Mix things up. Put mole on your turkey. Add a mariachi band to your Thanksgiving playlist. And whatever you do, don’t be afraid to pour yourself a shot of tequila and say, “Gracias.”

Happy Thanksgiving! Or, as they say in Mexico, Feliz Día de Acción de Gracias. Don’t forget the lime.