““My wife and I used to buy rib eyes at City Market for lunch every Thursday; este jueves we’re having tacos de tripa,” New York transplant Don Manhattan told El Jalapeño in the meat section of a no-frills Bodega Aurrera in San Miguel de Allende, moments after bumbling his way through his weekly Spanish class, which has not yet covered the phrase “purchasing power parity” but has, apparently, covered “pinche,” a word his teacher told him to avoid using at all costs and which he deployed immediately upon being asked about the exchange rate.”