Several nights ago we were sitting in one of many tequila tasting bars on the Puerto Vallarta Malecon when the sales guy asked us how long we had been in Mexico. Now, as background, these shops are not just there to give you free tequila, they are there to try to sell you time shares in local condos and the tequila is simply a good way to grease the wheels. You may end up buying a bottle from a local distillery or a second bit Cuban cigar, but it is not the overall purpose of these storefronts. The conversation often goes like this: “ahh, your are from Canada, I love Canada, try this tequila! It is from a local agave plantation. Isn’t it the best? Did you arrive today on the cruise ship?” However, when we replied, “well no, we just came from Lo de Marcos,” the sales pitch suddenly stopped. “How did you ever end up in Lo de Marcos?” the sales guy asked, as he filled the next tequila sampler twice as full as the last.
Lo De Marcos was recommended by Catherine’s parents as an unusual small quiet town that was completely off the grid to average tourists. It is a very Mexican small town. There are many dogs in the street that are as laid back as the other local inhabitants and one thing is for sure, the food is off the charts. Although John has never been particularly adventurous with food because of a pretty serious nut allergy, it is Catherine’s passion. Her father had recommended a place to get pozole (hominy stew); the directions went something like “take a left out of the hotel, turn near the plaza and find a place somewhere on the right hand side of the street.” Sure enough, we found “Carolina’s” just where he said it would be. Although we knew we were going for pozole, we thought we might compliment it with something else, but when we asked the waiter for the menu, he just listed off some typical Mexico ‘antojitos’ (snacks) – quesadillas, enchiladas, tacos, etc. When we expressed an interest in pozole he gave us the ‘gringo’ options – pork or chicken. But as got talking, he gave us more details on the other options, beloved by the locals – pork skin, tripe, and so on. After we ordered the mixed pork skin/pork meat pozole, and thoroughly enjoyed it, he came back for a real conversation.
After telling us about some different, less typical foods, in Mexico (such as tacos a la cabeza – cow’s head tacos, snake and pigeon), Domingo, our waiter, explained his philosophy on travel. (picture a passionate Mexican accent here ;) ) “So many people come here looking to eat hamburgers, or going to the supermarket to buy bread and processed meat, because they are afraid to try anything new,” he said. “But these people do not really want to know Mexico. The way I like the travel – and I think the way you like to travel – is to go to the local market, see what’s for sale, and eat what the locals are eating. This is the only way to know a country, and the only way to know people.”
Domingo also shared a couple of food-related stories with us (I know, can this get any better?!). First, the armadillo. Apparently, back in the day when Jesus was in Mexico on his worldly travels, he was offered two pork tacos. Being a notoriously light eater, he ate one immediately, and took the other ‘to go’. As the second pork taco got stale, the shell hardened around it, and Jesus decided that rather than eat it, he would turn it into a new animal. Thus was created the armadillo. Apparently it tastes just like pork and delicious in a taco.
Domingo then when on to explain to us how the Aztec rulers used to have runners between the coastal city of Veracruz and México City that would be transporting fish inland to the kingdom to ensure that the ruling class always had the fresh fish as one of their options of a thousand courses. The runners would run (barefoot) relay-style, each taking a turn in the several hundred kilometers between the cities each day.
Our food conversation continued with our neighbour in our hotel in Puerto Vallarta – Luis. As the nightly fireworks we going off over the beautiful city, we ended up on adjacent balconies watching the show. After saying hello we pulled out our recently purchased bottle local high-grade tequila; pouring shots while leaning over the balconies. What could be a better way to meet someone? It worked out he was professional chef who had recently arrived to work the nascent high season. He recommended tamales that were buttery smooth from a stand around the corner from our hotel, as well as the best place for corn snacks in the centre of Mexico City, and quesadillas (with or without the queso!?! – is a cheese-less quesadilla called merely a ‘dilla’?) filled with huilacoche mushrooms (they grow on corn cobs) in Coyocan. As we sat on a bench on the Malecon eating our tamales under a full moon and looking out at the warm Pacific ocean, we realized that our food journey was taking shape!
After a fun comfortable bus ride (Mexican buses are actually first class with dubbed movies giving John a chance to work on the Spanish) across the Pacific west of Mexico we arriving in Leon to visit Mercedes and Rolando (relatives of Fabian, Catherine’s Mexican brother). This wonderful visit was yet another culinary lesson. John tried nopales (cactus) for the first time. For dessert we had flan, a custard like desert – but this was special flan. Not only was it baked in a traditional wood-fired clay oven that gave it a smoky flvour, and not only was it covered in creamy Ronpope (sort of like a rum-heavy eggnog), but it was given to Rolando in appreciation of all the business he brings a friend when he buys cases of hunting bullets from him (to be explained later). It was dubbed Bullet Flan.
Mercedes summed up our eating adventures so far when she said, “it is so good that you have an adventurous throat – you will have so many wonderful experiences.” Indeed.
