Latin American literature is perhaps best known for its use of magical realism, a literary mode in which the fantastic blends seamlessly with the ordinary, creating a sort of enhanced reality. Although magical realism is practiced by authors from other cultures, the works of authors Salman Rushdie and Toni Morrison, for example, are notable examples of non-Latin works in which magical realism has been used to both great effect and great celebration. the works of Latin American authors in which the style flourished and left its mark on the literary world. Yet even in Latin American works we can find many different types of magical realism, all used to achieve a different purpose. In the works of the Cuban poet and novelist Reinaldo Arenas, for example, magical realism is often used to add poetic flourishes to the biographical details of his own life; in Guatemalan author Miguel Angel Asturias's political novel El Senor Presidente, magical realism is used sparingly, just enough to glorify the horrors of life under a dictatorship, exaggerating it slightly while reminding us that the world it presents is not so far removed from the climate current politician during which he wrote his novel. Since magical realism has been used prominently for nearly a century and can be found in mediums as diverse as novels, plays, paintings, and films, there is no doubt that, over the years, it has been used in countless ways. Laura Esquivel's 1989 novel Like Water for Chocolate and the short stories by Jorge Luis Borges present in the Labyrinths collection are two works that, at first glance, can be grouped under the title of magical realism. Yet, separated by both time and medium, they use magical realism in completely different ways, and what's more... at the center of the card..., however, is food and Tita's attachment to it. While in some cultures the ritual preparation of food certainly has some importance, the importance given to it in Esquivel's novel is unheard of. As Esquivel separates his novel into Fitzgerald's 4 monthly installments, we are offered a new recipe twelve times and discover that the preparation of this recipe will not only have a direct influence on the characters themselves, but will dictate the direction the story will take. Taken alone, this almost divine presence of food and the power it holds over Esquivel's characters would seem unnatural, out of place, and, frankly, far-fetched. Yet, in a world populated by prenatal hiccups, miraculous lactations, and ever-present ghosts, the death grip of food, the very essence of what makes Esquivel's novel his, seems like just another wonder to behold..