In addition, most of the high-end dining options I wrote about in a previous piece on Baja have an excellent non-wine selection. If you get the chance to visit northern Baja I recommend trying the following places for a sampling of all the good libations on the menu.

Wineries

Vena Cava

 

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The tasting room is cool — its roof is made of the innards of an old wooden ship — but the party is really going on outside at Troika, the winery’s food truck, open for lunch and early dinner. Here, a handful of picnic tables painted in bright yellow, aqua and pink are filled with wine drinkers sipping on Vena Cava’s cool and fruity rosé or their new line of minimal intervention wine— the Pet Nat is fab. The menu’s star is the pork belly in a miso and beer glaze with tzatziki and flour tortillas, but everything was good. This place is perfect for day drinking, especially if all you have to do is walk up the hill to your room at their hotel, Villa de Valle.

Rancho San Marcos, Toros Pintos S/N, Ejido Francisco Zarco, Ensenada 

Clos de Tres Cantos

 

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Tres Cantos is like a trip to see your philosophical aunt and uncle who have renounced city life and now tipsily recite poetry in the middle of the afternoon. Owners María and Joaquín are relative newbies in Valle de Guadalupe, but their space — built beautifully with recycled materials and following all kinds of esoteric architectural principles — feels authentically Valle. A tasting on the back patio while metallic ribbons flutter in the vineyard is almost magical. Try the Chenin Blanc, which is a burst of salty sunshine, or a bottle of Tu Mismo, a red blend with hints of tobacco and smoke. They also have a small restaurant on-site that I didn’t get to try but have heard is fantastic.

Carretera Tecate-Ensenada Km 89.5 S/N, Villa de Juárez

Bruma Wine Garden Tasting Room

 

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This tasting room has just opened, and while it’s not as well-known as some of the others in town, if Bruma’s other eating and drinking establishments are the measure, it’s going to be a thing. It feels like a bar for rich equestrians: leather couches, a long wooden bar, cozy lighting, giant stainless steel tanks to one side. You can try the whole of Bruma’s incredible line here and if you get through them all they have additional bottles from around the valley because they like to spread the love.

Carretera Tecate–Ensenada, Km 73.5, Francisco Zarco, Ensenada

Vinos Pijoan

 

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The Pijoan tasting room in the vineyard is the most low-key of any that I found in Valle and maybe that’s one of the reasons I loved it so much. A million dogs follow you to your seat on the covered back patio and you can have a languid afternoon-long tasting with no one pushing you to go. 

Pijoan boasts old-school blends that are big and bold and new minimal intervention wines that are young and fresh. I loved the entire line, but it was the vermouth that blew me away. Mistela, made from a collection of wild herbs from the area, is like taking a direct sip of Valle de Guadalupe, while Vermouth Pijoan is made in a classic style that is warm, cinnamony and just right for sipping on the rocks.

Carretera El Tigre Km.13.5, Rancho San Marcos, Poblado Francisco Zarco

Finca la Carrodilla

 

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This absolutely stunning vineyard way out in the middle of nowhere has a tasting area that includes ground level tables amid the vines as well as an upper deck overflowing with greenery and a long family-style table under an arbor of plant life as well as a handful of high-back tables. You can do a quick tasting of their line of fully organic wine for about US $30 and the views of the surrounding organic vineyards are stunning.

Parcela 99 Z1 P14 Ejido El Porvenir, Francisco Zarco

Cocktail and mezcal bars

Matilda

 

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Without a doubt, the best cocktails I had in Ensenada were found in this tiny bistro-style dining room with photos of famous women on the walls and red-checked tablecloths. The La Princesa y El Sapo is the perfect balance between buttery and sweet with sage and huacatay — a South American marigold — and a garnish of spicy nasturtium leaf. The Sakura, which comes with a pea sprout balanced on the rim, is tart with a bit of bitterness and musky with rose water. Matilda Mi Corazon is creamy and smoky… I could go on.

Avenida Octava 106, Zona Centro, Ensenada

Santo Tomas Plaza

 

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Now a collection of restaurants, shops and bars, the Santo Tomas plaza once housed part of the winery’s facilities that was subsequently moved outside of the city limits. There’s a bevy of places here that I like: the moody Loca bar with high ceilings and low neon lighting, and La Bête Noire which feels like a bar just appeared inside a thrift store. Tanto Santo is the place for a slice and a beer, and the Alta Baja Ceveceria has a dozen or so craft beers on tap.

Avenida Miramar 666, Zona Centro, Ensenada

Bloodlust

 

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The ultimate Baja setting, with outdoor fire pits roaring, picnic tables and an outdoor stage that hosts local music acts. The main bar and restaurant area is supposed to look like a drop of wine, but the locals call it the “garlic building.” Its bulbous, organic lines reminded me a little of the Smurf village.

Inside are window seats stuffed with pillows and tapestries, as well as regular tables for sipping a cocktail or getting a small bite. These are the second-best cocktails in Ensenada for me: the Whyskey Sour and El Conde Nado with Pijoan vermouth! were two of my favorites.

Doña Emilia LT 13-2 San Marcos, Ensenada

Hussong’s Cantina

 

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It’s kind of a shame more visitors to Valle de Guadalupe don’t hang out in Ensenada. There are a handful of great bars and restaurants there that are endlessly more economical than Valle and still stellar. One such place is Hussong’s, which definitely has a little old-school cheesiness to it, but the kind that I love. 

Hussong’s is famous for its margaritas, but even more famous for being a good hangout for everyone: young, old, local and tourist. The musical trios that roam the bar hall can help you fall in love or drown your sorrows depending on the tune you choose. As one of the oldest establishments in town, it’s an obligatory stop.

Avenida Ruiz 113, Zona Centro, Ensenada

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From sprawling countryside grills to intimate bistro-style restaurants and street food stands, there is a vibe for any eater, but come prepared to eat a lot and spend a lot. If you’re ready to go, here are some of my favorite places in northern Baja that you don’t want to miss. 

Fine dining in the Valle 

Fauna

 

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Walking in after dark, wood smoke drifted out to meet us at Fauna. The warm glow of the firepits and the low-lit Edison lightbulbs added to the rustic romance. Sitting down at the long, family-style wood table, the first dish, a fresh oyster in smoked tomato water, started everything in my body humming.

The ceviche with chile toreado, mayo, cucumber and mushrooms was not watered down for anyone’s palate: its heat lingered in the back of the throat long after each bite. The rabbit and celery root chocochoyotas were mild but salty, the squash seeds give the dish a touch of nuttiness.

Serendipitously, I found myself sitting next to chef David Castro, who told me his food doesn’t fit into any category, which is true — it transcends them all and leaves you wanting more.

Carretera Tecate–Ensenada, Km 73, Francisco Zarco

Lunario

 

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This is true farm-to-table: diners walk through Lunario’s massive vegetable gardens to get to the restaurant. It’s the mix of flavors and textures that makes Chef Sheyla Alvarado’s food stand out. There are no power punches here, just a subtle blend of things that has you savoring and questioning each exquisite bite. 

The crushed sage on the tomato salad that was our first dish was delicate and mouth-opening, and each dish that followed only got better. The striped bass brought a cornucopia of textures: crunchy skin, the slight chalkiness of the grilled blue corn kernels, baby soft panela cheese, plus an ultra creamy sauce that blends poblano chili, epazote and fish broth. We skipped the wine pairing but some wine-obsessed friends said that this was one of the best pairings they have ever experienced… anywhere.

Camino Vecinal Parcela 71 Fracc. 3 Lote 13, San Marcos, El Porvenir

Damiana

Chef Esteban Lluis had to move around a little bit in Valle de Guadalupe to find the right home for his project. Damiana’s current location on the Viñedos de la Reina winery pairs well with the laid-back fine dining feel of his food. 

Under the Brazilian pepper trees, diners go one by one through Chef LLuis’s tasting menu with wine pairing. The tetela stuffed with requesón cheese and bean puree is creamy with slight tang from the purslane garnish, topped with a salty chicatana ant salsa, roasted abalone and a cured egg yolk. The sea urchin gazpacho, made with almonds and geoduck clam, is perfectly cool and fishy. Everything was thoughtful and delicate.

Carretera Tecate–Ensenada, Km 71

Finca Altozano

The experience of sitting out on the deck of Chef Javier Plascencia’s Finca Altozano, surrounded by the vineyards and slicing into a perfectly grilled prime rib or oak-grilled quail while sipping a glass of Valle de Guadalupe red feels quintessentially Baja. Brought to you by famed, Finca proves Plascencia hasn’t lost his touch.

Carretera Tecate–Ensenada, Km 83, Ejido Francisco Zarco

Villa Torél

 

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When a restaurant is the Monday night hangout of people in the food industry you know it has it together. The setting at Villa Torél gives oasis vibes with views of the distant mountains just beyond the vineyards of the Santo Tomas winery, where it is located. 

The ambiance is lovely but not overly fussy. The beef tongue pastrami was seasoned just enough to overwhelm any gaminess and razor thin for an excellent texture. The charred carrot with citrus cream and duck au jus was deceivingly simple, but so decadent I could have eaten plate after plate of just that. The fideo seco with fried calamari with a squeeze of lemon? Perfection.

Carretera 3, Km 94.7, Villa de Juárez

Easy eating for less fancy days

Bruma Wine Garden

 

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Just because this is the more casual spot at Bruma Wine Resort doesn’t mean its menu has been regulated to an afterthought. It’s obvious that Chef Castro wants diners to walk away impressed no matter which one of his restaurants they eat at. 

Just as with Fauna, the acid, salt and umami flavors of the Bruma Wine Garden menu are on point. This is not the fine dining tasting menu of the former, but instead comfort food with pizzazz. For instance the carne apache, an amped up version of beef tartar with black sesame, or the tangy pork jowl sourdough pizza or even the fried chicken and waffles drizzled with maple syrup. This is by far one of the best hotel breakfasts you’ll ever have.

Carretera Tecate–Ensenada, Km 73.5

Cocina de Doña Esthela

 

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I tried to go to Doña Esthela’s three times on a holiday weekend and each time it was absolutely packed with people and I didn’t have the time to wait. When I finally did get there on a regular Tuesday morning I understood why. It’s like what a Cracker Barrel wishes it was: truly rustic and homey, with cowboys and families, antique tea pots sets and black and white photos on the walls.

The northern classics like machaca with eggs and vegetables were absolutely unbeatable. The fresh goat that they made was hands down the best queso fresco I have ever had: salty, moist, dense, cheesy without being gamey. Down-home and revitalizing, I will be back again, if only for the cheese.

Carretera El Tigre–El Porvenir between Km 13 and 14, Rancho San Marcos

Erizo Valle de Guadalupe

 

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This is the new-to-me spot on the Finca Altozano compound and it’s a more casual and quick option than doing a full meal at the namesake restaurant. I had a mouth-watering tripe and fresh tuna tostada with ponzu sauce, baked onion, tomato and cucumber, as well as the cilantro-laden green shrimp ceviche tostada. Both were amazing. 

The salsa was fire, literally and figuratively, and the cocktails went far beyond my expectations for a low-key seafood joint. Lupe is great for lunch out in the country or if you need to slow down after having eaten all day.

Carretera Tecate–Ensenada, Km 83, Ejido Francisco Zarco

Parador Mercedes

 

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The newest project of Chef Diego Hernandez in conjunction with Chef Ana Juncal, Parador Mercedes is easygoing, diner-style eating for breakfast and lunch in the valley. The mollejas (fried chicken gizzards) were fiery, crispy and melt-in-your-mouth delightful and the butter biscuits with fresh pineapple and strawberry jam provided a sweet balance to all that spice and salt. 

The barbacoa was rich with a deep, cinnamon and clove flavor; the meat was pull-apart soft. Slivers of chewy, fatty machaca on top of the omelet with onion and bell pepper created an excellent version of this very traditional northern Mexico breakfast.

Carretera 3, Km 93, San Antonio de Las Minas

Da Toni

This popular local spot in Ensenada is run by actual Italians and it shows in the cooking. The burrata brusetta was so creamy it was almost like dessert. The broccoli rabe with ear-shaped pasta, fresh Parmesan cheese and anchovy was only outshone by some of the creamiest panna cotta I have ever had. 

The place is tiny, with a minuscule kitchen that only fits the four-person staff. A great mid-week treat for some serious carbs.

Av. Riveroll 143, Centro, Ensenada

Lydia Carey is a freelance writer and translator based out of Mexico City. She has been published widely both online and in print, writing about Mexico for over a decade. She lives a double life as a local tour guide and is the author of Mexico City Streets: La Roma. Follow her urban adventures on Instagram and see more of her work at www.mexicocitystreets.com.

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Take Chicama, for instance, which popped up this February in one of the locales of the Pasaje El Parian in Roma Norte. It’s almost imperceptible in the hustle and bustle of this street saturated with restaurants and bars, but the Peruvian Fusion on the sign caught my eye, as did the simple logo and set-up of plain wooden tables and chairs surrounded by pop art posters promoting Peruvian rock bands and liquor brands. 

I wasn’t expecting much, but I took that first bite of delicately sliced amberjack fish in leche de tigre, cilantro specks floating on its milky surface, and I was hooked. I will fully admit to having a small obsession with canchita, a kind of Peruvian popcorn, served as a snack across South America. What happened to be alongside my ceviche but a little cluster of those salty, addictive beauties, as well as the soft-as-silk sweet potato chunks and fingernail-thin slices of fried green plantains. I was transported to the mind-blowing ceviches I tasted on a recent trip to Leticia, Colombia, the small Amazonian town that butts up against the Peruvian border. A perfectly foamy pisco sour in hand I ordered the anticucho — a popular street food in Peru made from beef heart — and congratulated myself on this dining discovery. 

As it turns out, I was the one out of the loop. By the time Chicama made its way to Mexico City, the restaurant already had a built-in fan base. That’s because its first incarnation was in a beach shack in Puerto Escondido, started by Peruvian Erick Jauregui back before Puerto blew up into the hotspot it is today. 

Jauregui grew up stealing snacks from the kitchen of his family’s summer restaurant in the Peruvian tourist town of Chimbote. He worked as a teenager in Lima hotels and restaurants and as a young adult was convinced by a buddy to move to Puerto for the surfing. 

Chicama’s first location, a tiny place that Jauregui didn’t even have the first month’s rent for, only had four plates — if a fifth customer came in they had to wait for the dishes to be washed. The restaurant’s “fusion” moniker was born of necessity. In 2016, Peruvian herbs and spices were not easy to find on the Oaxacan coast, so Jauregui started to get inventive. The antichucho would be made with Mexican guajillo chiles instead of the traditional Peruvian ají panca. The potatoes that accompany it, not as good as Peruvian potatoes but still delicious, are covered in a spicy jalapeño green sauce. The habanero in their ceviche takes the place of ají de limo and recipes that call for huacatay, a Peruvian herb whose flavor is somewhere between mint, tarragon, basil and cilantro, get epazote instead, similar in its traces of mint and citrus, but also with a touch of anise. Huancaína, the Peruvian sauce that uses ají amarillo is made at Chicama with a combination of yellow bell pepper for coloring and habanero for spice.

All of this is told to me by Marco Capellini, in his slow beachy drawl that carries years of living in Puerto Escondido in its cadence. He started bartending for Chicama in 2020, when they blasted cumbias and mixed piscos to dispel the anxiety of the global pandemic. 

“Everyone who works here, or comes in to eat is just enjoying themselves, having a good time,” he says.

While there’s no sand floor and no surfers in board shorts, Chicama Mexico City still has the kind of upbeat, laid-back vibe of a beach bar, and in an ode to their Oaxacan beginnings, most of the cocktails here are made with Mexican mezcal. The salsa drifting from the speakers is a tad louder than a regular restaurant and the waitresses hang out casually, one wearing pushed-up sweatpants, the other a floral bandana wrapped around her head. 

“I walk by tables and hear people talking about the beach, about Puerto Escondido, and I like that this place takes people out of the city a little,” says Marco. 

By the time the pescado en costra negra came out, I was glad that the brown rice was kind of tasteless— I would have never had enough space anyway. Instead, I let pieces of the tataki-style marlin encrusted in sesame and drenched in teriyaki melt on my tongue and feel happy I live in a city with so many culinary wonders. 

Perfect for: A first date with a vegetarian — they have a garbanzo and a mushroom ceviche!

Recommended: Peruvian ceviche in leche de tigre, anticucho on the side and a pisco sour — or a mezcal sour — to wash it down.

Lydia Carey is a freelance writer and translator based out of Mexico City. She has been published widely both online and in print, writing about Mexico for over a decade. She lives a double life as a local tour guide and is the author of Mexico City Streets: La Roma. Follow her urban adventures on Instagram and see more of her work at www.mexicocitystreets.com.

The post Chicama: Peru by way of Puerto Escondido appeared first on Mexico News Daily

In 1888, Mexico and Japan signed the Treaty of Amity, Commerce and Navigation,  which not only established diplomatic relations between the two countries but was also Japan’s first trading agreement that put it on equal footing with another nation. But even then, there were already hundreds of years of history linking the two countries: Japanese sailors had long been part of the Manila Galleon, the trans-Pacific trade route that connected the Philippines and Mexico during the Spanish colonial period. These sailors often joined up on ships that were making the rounds and trading with Spanish sailors in the Philippines.

A brief history of Japanese Mexicans 

The first official Japanese immigration to Mexico came in the form of the Enomoto Colonization Party, which settled in Chiapas with plans to start a coffee-growing business. The project failed, but it was the start of a small trend of permanent Japanese immigration to Mexico during the 19th and 20th centuries. By 1910, 10,000 Japanese are believed to have settled in Mexico. Many early immigrants worked on the railroads and fishermen on the coast, or headed inland to the capital to start small businesses. 

During World War II, the United States government pressured Mexico to move its Japanese population away from the coasts and the borders to the interior of the country, specifically Guadalajara and Mexico City. Although their situation was not quite as punitive as in the United States — where 90% of the Japanese population was arrested and sent to internment camps — some Japanese in Mexico were arrested and held for the duration of the war, and the majority of those forced to relocate were stripped of their possessions and property. Forced to register in their new home cities so that the Mexican government could monitor them, they were left to survive with no government assistance.

What came from this concentration of the Nikkei — or Japanese-descendant — community were thriving local enclaves of immigrants who worked to preserve their culture and their cuisine despite the challenges they faced. In Guadalajara, Japanese cooks set up stands outside the bus station selling fish soup to travelers: today, these stands have morphed into many of the city’s market stalls, currently operated by the descendants of these immigrants. In Mexico City, the local community that ballooned from a few hundred to over 4,000 people started Japanese language schools, purchased a 200-hectare hacienda to house new arrivals and founded the Japanese Mutual Aid Committee (CJAM). 

Generations later, Japanese immigrants to Mexico have seen their children and grandchildren fully assimilated into life here, and the bond between cultures can still be seen in many aspects of popular culture, in particular the many Japanese restaurants found across the capital.

Japanese eats in Mexico City

For classic dishes, the obvious choice is Ichi, run by the Mexican Japanese Association (AMJ) in Colonia Aguilas. When you’re in the back gardens among the koi ponds, the sound of trickling water from the gardens’ fountains and the chirp of birds in the cypress trees make it hard to imagine the bustling metropolis just beyond the gate. The organization was founded in the 1950s by some of the era’s most prestigious community members and Ichi serves an extensive range of Japanese cuisine, from udon dishes, to sashimi, sushi and teppanyaki. Try the chirashi plate, with its eight different types of raw seafood or a body-warming bowl of udon noodles with slices of salty pork and a sprinkling of green onions. Finish with a scoop of their traditional ice cream — the black sesame is divine. 

To experience the intertwining of Japanese and Mexican cuisine Fideo Gordo is a must. Their diner-style space on Calle Salamanca is very low-key, but the menu is made to impress. It reflects the thoughtful ruminations of chef Edo Nakatani as he experiments with blending the two sides of his heritage and the flavors of his grandparents’ table: his grandmother a Mexican with Spanish ancestry, and his grandfather Japanese. They also happen to be the creators of cacahuates japoneses, a classic of Mexican snacks. 

Nakatani’s birria udon adds traditional udon noodles to tender chunks of lamb in a birria broth impregnated with cilantro seed, toasted Szechuan peppers and cumin. The tamarindo agripicante starts with crunchy jicama and cucumbers with a musky dusting of cumin which hides a layer of fat stir-fry noodles below, ringing with the tangy sweetness of their tamarind and chili sauce. 

Hankering for a little enlightenment over lunch? Head over to Café Amano in Colonia Nápoles. This humble cafe opened to raise money for the Japanese Eko Ji Buddhist Temple located on the same property when a bureaucratic snag stalled their recent renovations. They serve a daily menu of unfussy, home-style dishes and fixed-price meals, a kind of Japanese comida corrida. 

The best place to enjoy the crunchy karage fried chicken or a cochuyan spicy beef stir fry is on the triangular patio in the back garden. In the spring, the cherry blossom tree covers the ground-level foliage with a blanket of pink and the sun fractures through the branches of a towering pine to cast memorizing shadows below. I would go every day just to have some of their “fluffy ice,” a shaved ice milk dessert drizzled with condensed milk and squares of dense, wobbly flan.  

Lydia Carey is a freelance writer and translator based out of Mexico City. She has been published widely both online and in print, writing about Mexico for over a decade. She lives a double life as a local tour guide and is the author of Mexico City Streets: La Roma. Follow her urban adventures on Instagram and see more of her work at www.mexicocitystreets.com.

The post Why Mexico City’s Japanese restaurant scene is about more than just great food appeared first on Mexico News Daily

So I tend to get the same questions over and over and over again and if you are headed to Mexico City and wondering the same things, here are a few answers for you in advance.

What about the water?

This is by far the most constant question I hear on my tours: I would say 95% of people ask me about water in Mexico. Various questions are always folded into this one, but the most interesting to me is “Do you drink the tap water now that you’ve lived here for so long?” People from the United States seem to be terrified of the idea of not being able to drink tap water, and the fact that I could still be unable to do so after 16 years in the country makes them very upset.

Here are a few things to keep in mind about the water. First, according to the official statistics, 90% of Mexico City’s tap water is drinkable. See this map created using Mexico City Water System (Sacmex) statistics:  all the areas in blue reportedly have potable tap water. 

I just had my water tested at my apartment. The kitchen tap water was below all thresholds for harmful bacteria, though the bathroom tap water was slightly above. But hardly anyone in Mexico City drinks tap water if they can afford to buy it, a trend born of years of marketing from water bottling companies and fear stemming from real issues in the city’s water system during the 1985 earthquake which left generations of locals hesitant to drink from the tap. 

The pipes are old, no doubt, and I’m sure there are plenty of heavy metals, but the water running into Mexico City taps is not toxic sludge and brushing your teeth with a little of it won’t make you instantly sick. Also, no restaurant in popular areas of Mexico City is going to serve you ice made from tap water, so please don’t embarrass yourself by asking. Now before you get on your tap-water-drinking high horse, remember that according to the CDC only about 50 countries worldwide out of 195 have drinkable tap water and even then it can be iffy.

Can I eat street food?

The water question inevitably leads to questions about street food and other “will this make me sick” questions. This probably happens a little less on my tours than in other settings because almost all of my outings include food, so my clients are already a little more adventurous than your average traveler. 

I tell people a resounding yes on street food! Eating on the street is such an important part of Mexico’s culture and it’s where the best food is. If you miss it you will miss out. You also have just as much of a chance of getting sick eating on the street as you do getting sick in a fancy restaurant as you do getting a cold: it’s all about averages. 

I always like to remind people that generally when you’re traveling you’re eating several more times a day than you are accustomed to, eating new food and  having spicy or rich foods that you don’t regularly try, so your stomach has lots of reasons to revolt. I usually get a tiny bit sick myself when I visit my hometown in Illinois — traveler’s belly is pretty normal.

Do you feel safe?

I am not a Pollyanna about Mexico, I recognize that there are many dangerous places in the country. But do I feel safe in Mexico City? Absolutely. And do I think you should feel safe too? Absolutely. 

This is a big city, so the same kind of things that could happen to you in New York or Chicago can happen to you here — except probably a random shooting, since owning a gun as a private citizen is rare. 

I tell people to keep their wits about them, pay attention to their surroundings, and try to blend in, but don’t worry about being caught in the crosshairs of a narco battle. And when you see protests on the streets in Mexico City, it’s normal. This is the country’s capital and the seat of its government: the most appropriate place for people to come and march and protest. Demonstrations are not a sign of chaos but of citizens exercising their rights.

Should I take public transportation?

People outside of Mexico hear all kinds of nasty things about public transportation in Mexico City, both from non-Mexicans and locals. While it is often crowded — and that might be reason enough for you to avoid it while you are here on vacation — it’s not the hellscape that many people describe. What’s more, most of them don’t ride public transportation regularly, or ever.

Public transportation is often the quickest way to get from point A to point B in a city with stop-and-go traffic almost everywhere. Millions of people ride Mexico City’s Metro and Metrobus routes every day and taking public transportation here is an incredible peek into the life of the city. But just like other kinds of safety issues, keep your wits about you, carry your phone in your front pocket and be aware of your surroundings:  if you can get pickpocketed on the New York City subway you can get pickpocketed on ours.  

Are your friends foreigners or Mexican?

I always find this question to be a strange one, though I suppose people are trying to imagine what life is like living in Mexico City, especially for a non-Mexican. 

I usually explain that while in some smaller cities and towns, you have a much more united foreign community — in San Miguel de Allende or around Lake Chapala, for example — in Mexico City the community is more dispersed. Part of the reason for that is that immigrants here tend to skew younger: they come for work, they start families and they marry locals. 

Non-nationals are also only 4% of the population, so in a city of over 20 million that’s a pretty tiny group. My friends are a mix of my paisanos from the United States, Brits, Colombians, Mexicans and a few other nationalities thrown in for good measure.

Do you ever think about moving home?

I am home! While I know plenty of foreigners come to Mexico for just a stint and then move back home,  I’ve been living in Mexico for 16 years and no longer feel like going back to the U.S. is going home. I live here, I work here, my life is here. I love to go back and see family and friends, but that’s it.

What kind of visa do you need to live here?

Visitors are always interested in my status in Mexico and how I attained it — I assume because they wonder how they would do it themselves if they wanted to. While I am a permanent resident, I got that residency several years ago and many things have changed in the system since then. 

Currently, a temporary non-working visa is possible for various reasons, including having family members here or a stable income in your home country for the time you are in Mexico. To secure a temporary residency with permission to work, you have to have an offer of work and the company who is hiring you completes the visa process for you. Once you’ve had temporary residency for four consecutive years you can apply for permanent residency — which does not expire — and then for citizenship two years after that.

I’ve had a handful of people over the years nervously ask me if I’ll ever give up my U.S. citizenship and become a Mexican national. I have no idea why this idea is so terrifying to people, but just to allay fears, you don’t have to give up your U.S. citizenship to become a Mexican one: you can be a dual citizen of both countries at the same time.

What do Mexicans think about…?

What do Mexicans think about their president? What do Mexicans think about our president? What do Mexicans think about foreigners? What do Mexicans think about narco violence? 

I realize that I am a point of contact for many people, especially people who speak English, and so I try to answer these questions as best I can based on my conversations with Mexican friends, colleagues and other folks I’ve interviewed for articles, but I am not the person to give you a definitive answer on what Mexicans think about anything. 

Those things you have to ask Mexicans yourself, and they, like every society in the world, are not a monolithic group. That would be like asking what people in the U.S. think about Trump, and we all know that depends very much on who you are talking to. So go ahead and ask a Mexican yourself! If the language barrier is stopping you, it’s just another excellent reason to learn Spanish.

Lydia Carey is a freelance writer and translator based out of Mexico City. She has been published widely both online and in print, writing about Mexico for over a decade. She lives a double life as a local tour guide and is the author of Mexico City Streets: La Roma. Follow her urban adventures on Instagram and see more of her work at www.mexicocitystreets.com.

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The young women hesitate but get bolder as the conversation flows. Listman is talking about Chef Elena Reygadas, who sits a few feet away in the middle of a sharing circle at the Huerta Tlatelolco urban garden. One of Mexico City’s foremost chefs, Reygadas was named Best Female Chef in the World by the World’s 50 Best Restaurants in 2023.

There are many other famous chefs sprinkled among the crowd as well, including Listman herself, who has caused serious waves in the CDMX dining scene with her Indian-Mexican fusion restaurants Masala y Maiz and Mari Gold. But despite the star power today, there are no flashy presentations or hyped-up egos. Instead, these famous women are sitting on the ground, in the shade of the garden’s fruit trees, listening intently to a group of young culinary students from across Mexico voice their fears and dreams.

Each young woman present is either in culinary school or has just graduated. All are here because they applied for and won a scholarship through a collaboration between Chef Reygadas and Santander Open Academy, which provides over 70,000 scholarships a year to Mexican university students across the country.

Reygadas started this scholarship program in 2022, as an attempt to support gender equality in Mexico’s kitchens.

“From the time I started working formally in restaurant kitchens I was surprised that they were so dominated by men, given that women have been the ones to maintain and transmit the food knowledge and culture,” Reygadas tells me later. “I decided to start a scholarship project for young female culinary students to support them from the very start of their education and in that way fight for equality and strengthen their leadership.”

In the program’s first year, it was able to support three female students, who each received a 40,000-peso scholarship. With Santander’s help, the number of scholarship recipients expanded to 20 for the 2023-2024 cycle. Winners come from 14 different Mexican states and are invited to the capital to meet the chefs who judged the competition. For some of them, this is their first time outside their home state or having flown on an airplane.

“When I told [my mom] that I had been invited to Mexico City to meet these chefs,” says María Fernanda Cortez Mendoza, “and I showed her on social media all the things they had accomplished, I think it was the first time that she thought that my decision [to go to culinary school] wasn’t a mistake.”

The young women here are facing their futures with excitement and anxiety. They are also generally in awe that these super-famous chefs have been so cool and approachable during their visit — it’s felt more like an exchange than a press conference. They are particularly taken with Chef Reygadas, who most of them have admired since beginning their studies.

“That’s the idea,” says Elena when yet another woman talks about how great it’s been to get to know her on a personal level. “That this [would create] empathy among women with a similar passion, and not just be about social media and publicity. That this would be a chain reaction, and that you would be able to transmit the same thing to the women of your communities.”

Some of these young women already have their first jobs in the industry, some have worked at internships in restaurants or hotels for culinary school, some are starting small independent businesses. All have gotten a first-hand glimpse at how tough it can be for women in their field.

“Guys in my class brush off our opinions because we are women.”

“Men say that I’m just being hormonal when I get upset.”

“Our professor told us we had better be ready for it to be tough as women in the business, especially if we were pretty.”

The conversation oscillates between the trials and tribulations of working in a kitchen to broader societal issues like respecting the culinary heritage of communities and how the European patriarchal structure of male-run kitchens has been imposed on Mexico’s matriarchal culinary traditions.

Questions fly through the air: “How can I speak up about injustices when I don’t want to lose my job?” “What do you do when people hate on you on social media?” “What advice would you have given your younger self?” The chefs respond with advice and examples from their own lives, both at the beginning of their careers and now. Nods of recognition as well as waves of laughter travel around the circle.“We romanticize the act of cooking and creating,” says Listman, “but there are many things about this industry that need to change and as women, we have to demand [those changes].”

María Fernanda Rodríguez Martínez is using part of her money to start an artisanal ice cream brand incorporating the flavors of her home state of Tabasco. Mariana Quintanar Guzmán is working on a mobile bakery that will combine classic French pastry-making with Mexican flavors and ingredients. Lila Tayen Domínguez González hopes to one day travel through the rest of Latin America, researching ingredients.

Further financial support is also up for grabs: an annual legacy scholarship through the same program will provide a 300,000 peso prize for one lucky aspiring chef to study and work abroad.

As a new crop of students join the ranks of the recipients — the 2024 winners will be announced at the end of July — the meet-up this May was proof of the importance of not only monetary support for women in the industry but also the connections these women will take into the future of their careers.

“It’s comforting that we’re here and getting to know one another, creating support [networks],” Mariana Quintanar says about meeting the other scholarship recipients. “Like if I go to Tabasco now I won’t feel alone, or Guerrero or Michoacan. We’re being enriched by new knowledge and new friendships.”

Lydia Carey is a freelance writer and translator based out of Mexico City. She has been published widely both online and in print, writing about Mexico for over a decade. She lives a double life as a local tour guide and is the author of Mexico City Streets: La Roma. Follow her urban adventures on Instagram and see more of her work at www.mexicocitystreets.com.

The post How the ‘world’s best female chef’ is helping Mexican women find their own success appeared first on Mexico News Daily

While we tend to think of the country as having a monolithic mestizo heritage (a blend of Indigenous and Spanish), there are important additions left behind by groups of immigrants that have shaped the country’s culture, art and its cuisine. 

Middle Eastern immigrants brought tacos árabes to Puebla which would go on to become Mexico’s most ubiquitous taco — tacos al pastor. Lebanese immigrants brought the kibbe to the Yucatan, now a popular roadside street food, and in Mexico City, one Japanese immigrant invented what would become one of Mexico’s most beloved snacks — cacahuates japoneses or Japanese peanuts.

Yashigei Nakatani: From Japan to Mexico

Japan and Mexico have diplomatic ties stretching back to the 1800s when both countries signed a Treaty of Friendship, Trade and Navigation. By the time World War II rolled around, there was already a nascent Japanese population in Mexico — in Manzanillo, many were fishermen, in Guadalajara Japanese workers came to work on the railroad, and of course, many arrived in Mexico City, the country’s capital which held the most economic opportunities for recent immigrants. 

When Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, the United States pressured the Mexican government to move Japanese immigrants away from the ports and the borders, and many in the community were deported on the alleged suspicion that they were spies.

That was the case with Heijiro Kato, the factory owner and boss of Yoshigei Nakatani Moriguchi, a young immigrant working in Kato’s button factory in Mexico City.

Nakatani had been in Mexico since 1932. He arrived and rented a room in the capital from his future mother-in-law, in the downtown neighborhood of La Merced, determined to make something of himself in his new adoptive city.

Nakatani soon met and fell in love with his landlady’s daughter Emma Ávila, who spied him singing on the rooftop of the building they shared and began to teach him Spanish. By 1941, they had five children and when Nakatani lost his job at the factory, he needed to find a way to make an income fast.

A new variation on a Japanese confection

Growing up in his hometown of Sumotoshi, Nakatani had learned how to make traditional Japanese sweets and candies. He figured he would try his hand at selling confections, so he and his wife started making muéganos, a Mexican candy made from flour, nuts, and coated in honey. Selling them out of their house on Carretones Street in the Merced, the candies were a hit, so they decided to expand and try to replicate a popular snack from Nakatani’s childhood — peanuts covered in a coating made from rice flour with soy sauce, and a touch of sugar.

Rice flour wasn’t available, so he replaced it with wheat flour, but the resulting snack was as good as the original — slow-toasted until perfectly golden brown, with slight salty spice and a hint of sweetness.

Everyone in the family eventually formed part of the business — his children helped to design the logo, pack the peanuts into their tiny cellophane bags, and run the machinery that they would eventually acquire to keep up with demand. In the neighborhood they were known as “the Japanese guy’s” peanuts and so Nakatani decided to name his business Cacahuate Nipón in the 1950s.

A family business and legacy

Business boomed and by 1970, Cacahuate Nipón officially incorporated and moved out of their space in the Merced neighborhood to produce on a larger scale. Unfortunately, the recipe for Japanese peanuts was never patented and during the 1980s, Cacahuate Nipon faced competition from big industrial corporations that were also making the snack, placing them in some of the country’s biggest convenience store chains.

The family overcame this challenge by expanding production to other popular sweets, like chamoy candies. They were extremely successful and were bought by Totis (part of La Costeña) in 2017, after which they started a new company called Dulces Komiru.

More recently, continuing the culinary legacy of his family, chef Eno Nakatani, grandson of Yashigei Nakatani, opened Fideo Gordo, a Japanese-Mexican noodle shop in Mexico City’s fashionable Colonia Roma.

Here he makes fusion dishes like ramen in birria broth and pork chicharrón topped with shrimp ceviche. Fideo Gordo is just one of the newest examples of Mexico’s great gastronomic melting pot, inspired by the many cultures that have expanded the country’s palate to the delight of locals and visitors alike.

Lydia Carey is a freelance writer and translator based out of Mexico City. She has been published widely both online and in print, writing about Mexico for over a decade. She lives a double life as a local tour guide and is the author of Mexico City Streets: La Roma. Follow her urban adventures on Instagram and see more of her work at www.mexicocitystreets.com.

This article is part of Mexico News Daily’s “Japan in Focus” series. Read the other articles from the series here. 

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I’ve been curious about the Maya Train since plans for its construction were first announced in 2018. I have a certain nostalgia for the trains I took into Chicago as a child and have always wished Mexico had more train travel options available. I’ve followed along with the many controversies and discussions around the train, with detractors saying it will be the worst thing to happen to the Yucatán peninsula and supporters saying it will be the best. In the end, the results will probably be mixed, which is what I found on my trip to ride the entire open route from Cancún to Palenque.

After eight days and seven stops, I can tell you that the biggest issue I faced was not the train itself, but the transportation infrastructure from the stations to the destinations where we stopped. This travel guide should help you avoid some of the pitfalls I experienced.

I recommend buying your tickets online in advance to avoid any issues. Keep in mind that on every stretch of the train — except the one from Valladolid to Mérida — the air conditioning started out great and got progressively worse as we went along. It was never completely off but there were plenty of times that I wished for more.

Cancún

The station in Cancún feels grand, like one of the classic European train stations you see in movies from the early 20th century. There was a good crowd the day I boarded, as the section from Cancún to Mérida is one of the most popular routes. On the train I met Lucy and Javier, two retirees who were traveling all over the Yucatán via the Maya Train, stopping in Valladolid, Mérida and Campeche.

“We remember when there was a train from Guadalajara to Mexico City,” Lucy told me. “We used to take it all the time.” The couple were looking forward to seeing what this new train was like. 

That first ride to Valladolid was exciting. The train was gleaming — brand new, clean and super smooth. I bought a drink at the snack counter and chatted with the other riders. The view out the window this time of year was mostly dry jungle, but inside riders seemed happy to just chat and relax. There was no Wi-Fi on board, something I would come to discover was true of the entire route. Workers told me that some of the cars were outfitted with Wi-Fi, but even though on a few sections the network did appear on my phone, it was always without internet.

Getting to and from the train

Arriving at the Cancún airport, there are free shuttles that bring you to the train station from terminals 2, 3 and 4, departing five times a day.

Make sure to get one of these shuttles, because if not the taxi drivers will rip you off, charging at minimum 800 pesos, or US$50, for a 10-minute ride to the station.

Valladolid

The city of Valladolid is old-world chic, with a growing number of boutique shops and very decent regional restaurants. It’s a great base for exploring the amazing wildlife at the nearby Ría Lagartos biosphere reserve, particularly their flocks of electric pink flamingos, or visiting Las Coloradas, the area’s famous rose-colored salt flats. I stayed in one of the gorgeous nature villas at Oriundo Hotel outside of town, but most of the hotels and restaurants are right in the center of town. There are also many lovely cenotes nearby to while away a day swimming and picnicking.

Getting to and from the train

There are no taxis that wait at the station as of yet — though with increasing arrivals I think there will be — so arriving in Valladolid your option is the waiting bus that takes you to the ADO bus terminal in the center of town. The trip costs 35 pesos and lasts about 20 minutes. The fact that Valladolid is a small town and most of the action is downtown made this the most convenient connection of the whole trip. I stayed overnight in Valladolid and took the same bus back the next day and the ADO ticket counter people were fully informed about the bus’s schedule.

Mérida

With its crumbling mansions, sultry climate and exquisite restaurants and bars, Mérida is one of my favorite cities in Mexico. I stayed at The Diplomat, my favorite hotel, and took advantage of its proximity to the Santiago market to try some local fare. Mérida finally has a population willing and able to support its dozens of great eating and drinking options as well as some very fine art galleries and shopping.

Getting to and from the train

Arriving in Mérida in the evening there were no taxis but several e-trams — part of Mérida’s public transportation system — were waiting to take arrivals to both the La Plancha and Paseo 60 stations for 45 pesos. The trip took about 30 minutes. The bus driver knew little about the rest of the connecting route through the city, so I took a 70 peso taxi from the drop-off station to my hotel. Mérida has Uber and Didi, and both apps are inexpensive and work well — although wait times tend to be longer than in a big city like Mexico City. This makes getting around the city a breeze, and while I’m a big fan of public transportation I gave up trying to figure it out in Mérida and just took cabs or walked.

Getting back to the station was easy, but I had to go to the La Plancha tram stop the day before and ask about the train times which are not announced anywhere online that I could find. When I got there, the times were written on a tiny piece of paper taped to the ticket counter. When I asked the woman there if the times were published anywhere she said no; they “weren’t set yet.” Anyone wanting to know had to come to the station to check. I came back the next day and the bus to the train station did leave on time. It cost 45 pesos, like my trip into town.

Edzná

Leaving Mérida I decided to go all the way to Edzná to see if it would be possible to see the ruins there before they closed for the day. On the way I met Paulina who was traveling with two other women back from Mérida to Palenque where they lived. I asked her how the trip was going and she said their trip on the train was cheaper than the bus and took 4 hours less time so for them it was no-brainer. They seemed a happy group, even if by this time we were all sweating on this leg of the trip. 

The archaeological ruins at Edzná, a former powerful regional capital on the Yucatán Peninsula from AD 400 to 1000, were stunning. The site is small, the buildings dramatic and there were only a handful of other tourists. I recommend going early in the day, as there is little tree cover and walking around in the midday heat almost did me in.

Getting to and from the train

When I got to the Edzná station things more or less fell apart, and I had to remind myself to go with the flow and embrace the chaos. I had previously asked about transportation in Edzná from other train workers and was told there would be taxis there, but when I arrived there was nothing but me, a hot breeze, some sad-looking palm trees and a stray dog. Zenaida, the woman working at the station, was extremely kind but a bit shocked by my assumption that there would be transportation.

Zenaida told me that a bus line is in the works but hasn’t been developed yet because “the station isn’t finished,” which was why there were no stores there either. I’m not sure how unfinished a station is when it’s already receiving passengers, but I kept my opinion to myself. Zenaida called a motorcycle taxi for me who might have been the only one in town and also offered car service from one of the station’s employees who uses his vehicle as a kind of Uber for tourists who want to get to the Edzná ruins there. 

The ruins — the only attraction in Edzná as there is no town to speak of and only a single store along the highway — are 15 kilometers away and the hot wind in the back of the mototaxi made the trip feel like riding in a microwave. Abram, my driver, was a super nice guy and talked to me about the hotel that the government was building near the site that would allow people to spend the night there once it opens at the end of June — the same date Zenaida said that the Edzná station would be finished.

So down the road, it looks like there will be transportation and lodging; for now, be sure to bring water and food, as there are no shops at the ruins either. Since the train only arrives in Edzná in the afternoon and doesn’t leave until the next morning I took a combi — a small shared van — back to Campeche. The worker at the ruins said it came at 3:30 p.m. at a stop down the road. Instead, it showed up at 3 p.m., right at the entrance to the ruins. I almost missed it.

Campeche

Campeche is another gem. Yucatán’s walled city was often attacked by pirates during the colonial years, and the city’s multi-colored facades and the remaining sections of its great wall make for a charming ambiance. The seafood here is also top-notch. Be sure to amble down Calle 59 with its cafes and bars lit up with twinkling lights in the evening. If you want to see Edzná, I recommend staying in Campeche and making it a day trip.

Getting to and from the train

Since I didn’t arrive in Campeche on the train, I didn’t get the experience of coming into town from the station. I now know that buses wait for each arriving train to take passengers into the city center. They drop you off on the oceanfront, where the massive letters that spell out Campeche stand., From there, it’s a short walk to the restaurants and hotels of the Historic Center.

Getting back to the station was painful. There’s no information online except for a few articles from December 2023 that say there are stops at four different points throughout the city. I ended up going to the bus station and being told there was a bus that picked up riders at 6:30, 10:30, and 11:30 at the same spot as the drop-off. I arrived there at 11:10 and waited until 11:34, but no bus came. 

“Sometimes they come early and sometimes they come late!” a man wearing a Maya Train hat told me. “That’s how we do things in Campeche, everything backwards!” said his buddy. My advice for Campeche is to take a cab to the train station, which will cost you 150-200 pesos from the Historic Center.

Palenque

The home of one of Mexico’s greatest archaeological sites is also known for its waterfalls and swimming holes, so that’s what I chose to do on this part of the trip — I’d already seen the ruins before. The waterfalls of Misol Ha, Roberto Barrios and Agua Azul are all gorgeous places to spend an afternoon staving off the heat and communing with nature, especially during the week, when there are fewer tourists. The town of Palenque itself has never held much draw for me, but it’s a good base for exploring the region.

On the train, the landscape from Campeche to Palenque was a little more exciting, passing small farms, cattle ranches and greener jungle. The Palenque station was probably the most grandiose and lovely of all the stations along the route, and many passengers I met along the way were making the trip from Campeche or Mérida straight to Palenque, so I envision this station getting a lot of use in the future.

Getting to and from the train

The day before going to Palenque, I stopped off in Escárcega, where, once again, there was no public transportation. The station workers called me a cab. Coming back the next day they told me the train was having technical difficulties and it would be at least an hour and half late. We finally got into Palenque 2.5 hours late, and despite the station manager assuring us that there was a public bus that would take us to the ADO bus station in the center of town, it never arrived. 

Instead, there were taxis, which charged 150 pesos to the hotel zone in town and 200 to the hotels on the road to the ruins. From the ADO station in town, I found out that the buses to the Maya Train station leave at 6 a.m. every day and wait for the arrivals on the 5 p.m. train every afternoon. When I mentioned to him that when we arrived late there was no bus waiting, he said, yeah, sometimes if they tell us train is late we don’t wait. 

Reflections on my journey

Except for Edzná, all of these cities are major stops on the train, and so are the most likely to have transportation. Still, as you can see, it wasn’t well organized at many of the stops. Some of the small stations along the route are not fully operational yet, and many lack basic infrastructure. It’s more likely that these smaller stops will be useful for locals traveling around the peninsula than tourists like the two women riding from Campeche I met going to see their mother in the tiny town of Carrillo Puerto.

I do think some of the operational kinks are bound to be fixed as the train heads towards its first anniversary, but for international tourists who don’t speak Spanish, much is needed to make travel smoother including informational signs, a map of the route at stations, reliable and easy-to understand-public transportation and English-speaking staff. While it was an adventure and I did love riding on a train again, I think I will hold off on another trip on the Maya Train until it’s a little further down the track.

Lydia Carey is a freelance writer and translator based out of Mexico City. She has been published widely both online and in print, writing about Mexico for over a decade. She lives a double life as a local tour guide and is the author of Mexico City Streets: La Roma. Follow her urban adventures on Instagram and see more of her work at www.mexicocitystreets.com.

The post From Cancún to Palenque on the Maya Train: A travel guide appeared first on Mexico News Daily

You can’t be faulted if you haven’t heard of some of these, but you will be left behind if you don’t get into the mix. So here are a few Mexican spirits you should know and some places to try them for the first time.

Pox: Ancestral drink of the Tzotzil

Hailing from the southern state of Chiapas, pox – pronounced posh – is believed to descend from a drink the Tzotzil Maya people made from fermented corn over a century ago. Potent and alcoholic, today’s pox is made from a blend of corn, wheat and sugar cane, with good pox including a dominant percentage of corn and an AVB of 40 or above. In a good pox you will notice the sweetness of the piloncillo sugar and the strong flavor of the endemic corn used to make it. Pox is one of the least publicized spirits in this list, used for generations in religious rituals of the area’s Indigenous people and as a homebrew medicine. Only recently has pox started to make its way out of the rural mountain regions of Chiapas and into local bars committed to showcasing the vast array of Mexico’s regional spirits.

If you’re seeking a taste of this time-honored elixir try San Cristobal de las Casas restaurants La Tarumba or Tierra y Cielo, where you can find cocktails with local pox, or a bar like Rayo in Mexico City where pox is blended with Maestro Dobel Diamante Tequila, purple sweet potato, lime and palo santo as one of their 10 signature cocktails. To buy your own bottle, try woman-owned and operated Poxna, a brand out of Chiapas sold at the Sabrá Dios liquor store in Mexico City and their San Cristobal tasting room La Espirituosa.

Charanda: Not your average Cuba Libre 

Charanda, which comes from the state of Michoacán, has an official appellation of origin, meaning that its methods of production and distillation are both regulated and protected as intellectual property — nothing can be called charanda that doesn’t meet certain parameters. Often compared to rum, Michoacan’s charanda has special attributes: the high-altitude sugar cane varieties it’s made from have greater sugar levels than its lowland cousins and the area’s mountain spring water gives the region’s spirit a distinctive flavor.

When producing charanda, additional sugar or piloncillo is added to the fermenting sugar cane juice, distinguishing this process from that of traditional rum. Charanda can be divided into three categories, the unaged blanca, the medium-aged dorado, and the darkest and most mellow, añejo, which is often aged in bourbon or sherry barrels that provide it with additional flavor complexity. Charanda can be enjoyed similarly to rum — Cuba Libre, anyone? — but for something a little more elevated, El Gallo Altanero in Guadalajara serves up the Duranzo Mojado with two types of charanda, peach, falernum syrup, grapefruit, sweet lime juice, orange liqueur and black pepper. Uruapan, the birthplace of charanda, is home to La Charanderia, where you’ll find one of the widest selections of quality charanda in the country.

Raicilla: The underground mezcal making a comeback

Makers of raicilla will let you know right away that this liquor is a type of mezcal — much in the same way that tequila is a type of mezcal —  but that raicilla is made from specific types of agave in a handful of municipalities in Jalisco and Nayarit states. 

As opposed to mezcal production, in which only the hearts of agaves are cooked and mashed for fermentation, in some raicilla production, every part of the agave is included. This gives those varieties a more fibrous flavor, often less sweet and more woody than mezcal. During the colonial era, the Spanish outlawed the production of this kind of mezcal, so local producers “renamed” it raicilla and production went underground. Its big comeback moment came in the 2010s, when the consumption and sale of raicilla catapulted it onto the national stage.

Most raicilla is still produced 100% artisanally using hand mashers and only basic implements like copper stills in the distillation process. Raicilla has grown in popularity with the rise of mezcal and has its own appellation of origin for its region and production. For a taste at the source, try the La Taberna, which is the bar run by the Mexican Council to Promote Raicilla (CMPR) in Mascota, Jalisco, or try the El Cucumber cocktail at De La O in Guadalajara which is a blend of Raicilla Japo, lime, green chartreuse and orange bitters.

Sotol: Jewel of the desert

The corpse reviver at Cafe de Nadie in Mexico City blends Flor de Desierto Sierra sotol with “chinampa vermouth” (an infusion of vermouth, white wine, and herbs grown in the city’s southern canals), as well as Peychuad bitters and citrus oil for a taste that is refreshingly bitter and alcoholic. Sotol is often confused for mezcal, but its flavor profile tends to be a bit pinier and is often described as more herbal or citrusy. Made from the desert spoon cactus, sotol production is centered in the northern desert states of Chihuahua, Durango and Coahuila, but can also be found across the border in Arizona, New Mexico and Texas, though it is generally thought of as a Mexican spirit.

Its history dates back to the Indigenous people of the region, who made a fermented beverage with the desert spoon cactus plant, albeit minus the distillation process that arrived with European colonizers. The process of making sotol is similar to that of mezcal:  the piñas, or hearts of the plant, are cooked in stone or earthen pits in the ground, then mashed and allowed to ferment for several days until being distilled — often more than once, depending on the profile sought by the sotol makers.

Bacanora: The outlaw that rose again

Bacanora is another style of mezcal produced in a cluster of southeastern municipalities of the state of Sonora that hug the border with neighboring Chihuahua. Made from a single plant – the Pacifica agave – bacanora is generally less smoky than mezcals from Oaxaca, has a greater minerality and a certain woodiness to it. Bacanora can also be distinguished by its yellow and golden hues in-bottle.

Bacanora’s history also dates back several hundred years, when the native peoples of the region made an alcoholic drink from the same type of agave. Its production was briefly outlawed in 1915 when the state’s governor, future president Plutarco Elías Calles, decided to crack down on illegal production of alcohol. The decision was reversed in the 1960s when the production of bacanora was reinstated and regulated and named a beloved regional spirit. Two excellent options for bacanora are Batuq and Los Amavizca. If you are in Mexico City stop by Tlecan bar and try a vampiro with bacanora, orange juice, a blend of chilis and salt. 

Whiskey: Foreign and endemic come together

Whiskey is on the rise in Mexico, and while not a type of alcohol production endemic to this country, today’s producers are combining the unique characteristics of the 59 heritage corn varieties available across Mexico with the long-honored tradition of whiskey making born in Europe and brought to the Americas during the colonial period.

Some of the best Mexican whiskey I’ve tried is in Tlaxcala at the Cuatro Volcanes distillery, which has been making liquor with locally-sourced, small-production corn harvests since 2019. Their tiny distillery and cocktail bar is located in a residential area of Tlaxcala city, and, along with whiskey, they are experimenting with gin, absinthe, fruit brandies and other liqueurs made from local plants and fruits. In Mexico City, you can try many of their spirits at Fuego, which has a selection of all of the spirits in this article. If you want to branch out, a few other good options for Mexican whiskey are Juan del Campo, Origen 35 and Gran Tunal.

Fruit Brandies: Mexico’s newest trend

Mexican fruit brandies and liqueurs have just started to sneak onto bar shelves and cocktail menus. Many are made in regions where other spirits or wine are produced and used as a way to make efficient use of leftover fruit production or as an alternative to making mezcal when a harvest is bad or producers don’t have the money to purchase the quantities of agave they need. In these cases, they might turn to an over-abundant mango harvest, or in the case of Vinos Barrigones, a pandemic happenstance that found their mezcal distillery (located in the middle of a vineyard) with no mezcalero to lead it. They decided to make a pivot that resulted in the birth of their first brandy.

Brandies and liqueurs offer a wide range of flavor profiles depending on the producer and are an excellent showcase of Mexico’s expansive domesticated and wild fruit varieties, with tejocote (Mexican hawthorn), nance and prickly pear flavors as a few of the wilder experiments.

If there was ever a zeitgeist moment for Mexican distilled spirits, it’s right now. Greater visibility for all these liquors has made this an incredible time to start branching out into the wide variety of spirits, and a growing national cocktail culture has meant incorporating them into drink menus in new and inventive ways. For flavors that truly represent the land and people of Mexico, a regional spirit can offer you a taste that nothing else can.

Lydia Carey is a freelance writer and translator based out of Mexico City. She has been published widely both online and in print, writing about Mexico for over a decade. She lives a double life as a local tour guide and is the author of Mexico City Streets: La Roma. Follow her urban adventures on Instagram and see more of her work at www.mexicocitystreets.com.

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Pox, a distilled spirit whose origins go back centuries, is so much more than just an element for a great cocktail.

A brief history of Pox

Historically, pox’s original ancestors were the fermented beverages of the indigenous communities of Chiapas. It was made from either corn or sugar cane and referred to as pox or chicha. 

Pox’s modern descendant has been used for centuries in local religious ceremonies and community celebrations, where it was valued for its curative properties and ability to transport shamans or healers into a trance-like state. It was also often exchanged as a form of payment and was one way that the mestizo upper classes controlled their day laborers – paying them in pox and then trapping them in a vicious circle of indebtedness when they became addicted.

In 1949, a prohibition on pox and other kinds of liquor was enforced in Chiapas, closing small distilleries around the state in an attempt to supposedly protect the local population from alcoholism. The prohibition, however,  only served to strengthen the pox monopoly at the time of the Petrero brothers, who, in cahoots with local law enforcement, brutally attacked indigenous distillers producing clandestinely for their own consumption. The pox monopoly wasn’t truly dismantled until the 1970s, and from then until the early 2000s, the spirit returned to small production and was used mainly for religious and community purposes. It wasn’t until a new generation of distilleries came along that pox started to become popular again in the mainstream.

These days, pox is slowly creeping down from the highlands of Chiapas to appear on bar menus across the country. Only a handful of official pox brands have hit the market – Pox Tres Almas, Pox Siglo Cero, Poxmyl, La Poshería, and Poxna – among them.

Meet Sofia Vidal, the woman bringing pox back to Chiapas

Poxna is the only pox brand that is female-owned and operated, by Chiapas local Sofia Vidal. Vidal started her project in 2010 with the goal of not only creating great pox but also educating consumers about the historical and cultural importance of this local spirit.

“I wanted to make a spirit in Chiapas that people could feel proud of and that could be much more than just an alcoholic beverage. Something that we could return to producing and understand the need to recover the original artisanal process of making this spirit,” Vidal says.

“On one hand, it’s a popular drink for parties, but it also has a role that’s very traditional, very ceremonial, full of mysticism. It is still part of the ritual elements of traditional ceremonies of the native peoples in the central part of Chiapas, mainly the Tzotzil and Tzeltal, the two largest indigenous groups in Chiapas.”

The word for pox in Tzotzil, poxyl, literally means medicine, and the liquor is still used by local healers and shamans to cleanse the soul, heal the heart, and ward off evil spirits. It is also employed to extract the medicinal properties of local herbs and plants. 

Vidal remembers her mother and her aunts using pox to create a local fruit liqueur called mistela with traditional fruit from the area like peaches or quince, but they would have never drank it straight. That’s because for most of its existence in modern times, pox has been considered a poor man’s drink, sold for cheap in local shops but not taken seriously as a drink for more affluent circles.

There is currently no Denomination of Origin for pox like there is for mezcal, tequila, and some other Mexican spirits, which means that the exact parameters of what can be considered pox are hazy. According to Vidal, many brands are selling what is essentially a sugar cane aguardiente and calling it pox. 

For her, the essence of pox is corn.

Pox is a distillation of Mexican history

“Corn, as you know, is one of Mesoamerica’s most important grains. In Mexico — and especially Chiapas — its influence is important as the foundation of our cuisine, and we want to continue preserving it. Something very clear to me from the very beginning was that our pox needed to be made with corn.”

Understanding that it would be more expensive and take more time, Vidal decided planting and using local corn was vital to her young project. She started working with Bebidas Espirituosos de Chiapas, a local organization dedicated to the research, history and preservation of traditional spirits. They helped Vidal carry out the initial tests to see which of five different varieties of local corn would make the best final product.  Once that was decided, they helped her standardize production.

All of Poxna’s products are made from a base of local white corn that grows in the area of Comitán, southeast of San Cristobal de las Casas. Vidal works closely with farmers at each step of the growing process until the corn is ready to be processed. 

They then make a first distillation from corn mash and a separate one from a mixture of piloncillo (a type of brown sugar) and wheat bran. These two spirits are then blended together and distilled a second time to create a white pox that is 70% corn liquor.

The end result is a 45ABV “extra-virgin pox,” according to Vidal, with a silky texture and dry notes from the corn as well as a slight sweetness added by the piloncillo. Poxna is also making pox infused with hibiscus and chocolate pox, more like a cream than a straight spirit but without any dairy. 

“It’s really difficult for someone to buy a spirit they have never tried,” Vidal says, which is why she started giving tastings at her shop/bar/restaurant in Chiapas, La Espirituosa. Anyone who stops in can get a free tasting and explanation of pox. 

Vidal finds that many of her clients immediately compare pox to mezcal and tequila and generally like it better because of the lack of smokiness and the slightly lower alcohol content, which makes it smoother. She is a strong proponent of the standardization of pox production and hopes that one day, this spirit will have a similar impact to tequila and mezcal.

While she prefers to focus on her project and less on the gender discussion, she says it can be tough to be the woman in charge. “I did a tasting for industry people and invited the son of the farmer I work with. I performed the tasting and gave the explanation, but at the end, all the questions were directed toward him. At one point, I just had to interrupt and say [that] if they had questions about my product, they should be asking me.”

Poxna: Coming soon to a cocktail bar near you

Despite having to remind folks that she knows what she’s doing, her bullishness about pox has made Vidal a rising name in the industry She’s built a strong network around Poxna and its products. 

In Mexico City, Poxna can be found on the cocktail menus of many prestigious food and drink establishments, such as Baltra, Limantour, and Pujol, and at chef Enrique Olvera’s project, Criollo, in Oaxaca. 

This mystical spirit has long been important in the state of Chiapas, but now the rest of the country — and the rest of the world — is starting to take notice.

Lydia Carey is a freelance writer and translator based out of Mexico City. She has been published widely both online and in print, writing about Mexico for over a decade. She lives a double life as a local tour guide and is the author of Mexico City Streets: La Roma. Follow her urban adventures on Instagram and see more of her work at www.mexicocitystreets.com.

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