She passes the street markets that have checkered the metropolis since pre-Aztec times and are still known by their indigenous name, tianguis. She probably passes specialty markets, too, some of which cater to fine European tastes.

Bones, 72, has a holiday meal in mind, and the expectations at home are high. That’s why she appears in front of the cascades of purple Chiles spilling from the stalls of La Merced, the cavernous, chaotic central market that offers the richest selection of Mexico City’s spice and intrigue.

As the diableros, or handcart ‘‘devils,’’ buzz around her, Bones lovingly searches out the corner stall of second-generation Chile peddler Jose Juan Jimenez. She carefully selects from his eye-watering ancho and guajillo Chiles, then the smoky pasillas and nearly black mulattos. She takes a scoop of sesame seeds from the bin, and a cone of the sticky raw sugar called piloncillo.

The almonds and chocolate are waiting at home. So are the grandchildren.

‘‘The piloncillo and the chocolate are the most important,’’ she says, her husband Efren, 75, looking over her shoulder. ‘‘You have to know how to dissolve it and add it right at the end for that smooth, exquisite seasoning.

From

http://www.chieftain.com/life/1148458921/3