Latin failure

Yesterday I made another attempt to make chili. It was a dismal failure, as usual. I can cook anything from anywhere but I have never been able to master any Mexican dish. I love cheese, beef, and onion enchiladas but I have never been able to produce any that are anything like the ones I remember from Texas. It can't just be the location that produces wonderful Mexican dishes because the best enchiladas that I ever had were from a little place in Pittsburgh of all places. I don't have a problem with dishes from Spain or Italy or France or Germany or Sweden or England. Mexico and Ireland are the only exceptions. Beef stew and chili, what could be the magic is hidden in such simple dishes? Perhaps I need a cauldron.
My brother tried the chili and made his usual comment about the beans. I was surprised that he ate some as he usually avoids my chili like the plague. He must have been very hungry. He didn't finish the whole portion so I took his bowl and spoon and finished it. I would never share a bowl and spoon with anyone else but hey, we slept in the same bed together when we were very young. He is the last link to the family I grew up in. I hope that he knows how close I feel to him and how much I admire him. I will have to tell him some day. I hope that I do but I probably never will. I am not very good with resolutions.