Food
We had cut our teeth on New York’s best taqarias, and I thought I had a firm command on tacos, burritos and huaraches. My first Mexican meal was none of these (a traditional soup with hominy and radishes) and the food continued to surprise us. I had been skeptical, but the Mexican food dictionary we bought came in handy.
But many products, and trends, were familiar. The produce in markets was
impeccable and beautifully arranged. When on the
coast, expect simply prepared fish with, strangely, with french fries.
Street food and market comedors are generally good. Tourist places are
disappointing.
The produce was artfully arranged and abundant whether inside the main Oaxaca market, at a weekly one, or a temporary stall.
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A daily reassembled still life.
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The intricate variety of dried beans and chili peppers.
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Oaxaca’s specialty is chapulines, or cooked grasshoppers. While not a popular item in the city, they are still considered a treat in the countryside, downed with salt and cayenne pepper.
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Slicing, and displaying, freshly baked bread in a fancy Mexico City shop.
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While there were some grocery stores, like here in Guatemala City, it is more common to buy your meat in the street.
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There was delivery service, usually simple fare served on a styrofoam tray, to the venders within the markets.
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Every bus station was crowded with food stands, some more appetizing than others.
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Taking a break to sample some of her wares in Huehue, Guatemala. The white yamaka-like hats were for carrying a tray on her head.
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Mexican-style convenience—ice delivered to your stand, and a fresh fruit licuado available from the curb.
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Ice cream venders were everywhere, dishing up parfait glasses of the cold stuff.
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The only burritos we ate were at this hole-in-the-wall in San Cristobal
de las Casas. They were appropriately labeled burritos nortenos
as the dona was from northern Mexico. Here, one of her employees serves
up a flour tortilla laden with mole y papas.
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This woman thought it was hilarious that I was taking photos of her cooking huaraches (a sandal-shaped fried pancakes laden with cheese and green sauce) outside a Mexico City bus station. The simple set-up produced a delicious lunch for 50 cents.
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The strong, sweet smell of chocolate was omnipresent in Oaxaca, which is famous for the stuff. The process of making it is surprisingly simple—grind up the coco, mix the resulting goo with nuts and flavors, then pack it up.
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My first meal in Mexico was pozole, a typical soup of hominy, vegetables
and meat. While rather bland, the spicy salsas,
relishes and other condiments supplied on each table gave it some sabor.
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Fresh fish in Mazunte.
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