What is Oaxaca food? Which Oaxacan dishes should you seek out and what sort of flavors and spices might you find when you visit this city and region in southwestern Mexico? We spent two months living in Oaxaca to find out and explore Oaxacan cuisine. This Oaxaca Food and Culinary Travel Guide guide shares our favorite Oaxacan street foods, traditional dishes, snacks, drinks, and desserts, plus where to find them in this beautiful culinary city.

If Mexican cuisine ranks as one of the world’s great cuisines (it was the first cuisine to receive UNESCO culinary heritage status), it’s certainly aided in part by what goes on in the kitchens of Oaxaca.

Understanding Oaxacan Food

Oaxacan food: roasted, subtle, rich, layered. Moles, chocolate, tiny avocados that taste faintly like licorice, giant balls of quesillo cheese ribbons, grasshoppers, whopping Mexican pizzas, stunning grilled meats, corn fungus, mysterious herbs like epazote, and more types of chili peppers than you can shake a fire extinguisher at.

This is Oaxacan cuisine.

Oaxaca. Say it with me: Wa-ha-ka. We won’t lie: when we opted to spend a couple of months in Oaxaca, Mexico its cuisine was certainly a major factor in our decision. After spending several months exploring Central American food in countries further south, we were curious to find similarities and differences.

We used the gourmandish pretext of “We need to discover what Oaxacan food is all about” as an excuse to explore the city's street food, markets and restaurants to eat ourselves silly. We took a Oaxacan cooking class to give ourselves background. We cornered our Mexican landlord each time we saw him to ask about his favorite Oaxacan street food stands and dishes.

Some might say we were obsessed.

I say we were focused.

As friends and readers have made their way to Oaxaca, we’ve sent Oaxacan food information and recommendations in bits and bobs by email. Now it’s time to put it all together to share with you our massive Oaxaca Food Guide (also in Spanish) with 41 recommended dishes, street food, moles, desserts, drinks and more.

Note: Oaxaca, as we use it, will generally refer to the city of Oaxaca, the capital of the Mexican state of Oaxaca, which kindly stretches down to a beautiful coastline in southern Mexico. Oaxacan restaurant and Oaxacan cooking class recommendations are listed within.

Let's dig in! ¡Buen provecho!

Update: This post was originally published in September, 2013 and updated in December 2020 with updates on food-related activities and day trips in and around Oaxaca.

Oaxaca Street Food and Traditional Dishes

1. Tlayudas

The oft-nicknamed “Oaxacan pizza,” a tlayuda consists of a large semi-dried tortilla, sometimes glazed with a thin layer of unrefined pork lard called asiento, and topped with refried beans (frijol), tomatoes, avocadoes, and some variation of meat (chorizo, tasajo or cencilla, or shredded chicken tinga). It can either be served open, or when it’s cooked on a charcoal grill, folded in half. One tlayuda is often enough to feed two people.

Tlayuda in Oaxaca recommendations: the stand just to the right of the entrance to the Carne Asadas aisle at Mercado 20 de Noviembre. Also, a hole-in-the-wall stand at Mercado de la Merced serves up some mighty fine tlayudas as well.

2. Huitlacoche Corn Fungus Tacos

Huitlacoche is a corn fungus, but I prefer the term “corn smut.” Earthy, mushroomy, huitlacoche is also very much a texture play.  Make sure to get it fresh, although you can also find it in cans.  Canned corn smut, mmmm.  

This is a seasonal item, but you might be lucky enough to make fresh corn smut tacos like we did at the Seasons of My Heart cooking school in Oaxaca.

3. Enfrijoladas

Enfrijoladas are essentially fried tortillas served with beans and sauce. The key in Oaxaca is that the beans are stewed with the leaves of the local avocado plant (see more below in the ingredients section). As our Oaxacan landlord's wife would say, “It’s not real frijol if it doesn’t include avocado leaves.”  How about that!

4. Memelas (Memelitas)

A memela is corn round snack or antojito (“little craving”) a little thicker than a tortilla, toasted on a comal (large, flat hot pan) and topped with all manner of stuff: beans, quesillo (local stringy, brined cheese), bits of ground pork with spices or eggs, and various sauces of differing heat levels.

Memelas became our favorite morning go-to snack, probably because a local family had a stand set up just down the street.

Memela recommendations in Oaxaca: Street stand on Oaxaca (Huerto Los Ciruelos) in San José La Noria neighborhood.

5. Tetelas

A tetela is a thin stuffed corn tortilla folded into triangle.

Tetelas recommendation in Oaxaca: Check out the tetelas with refried beans (frijoles) at Itanoni on Belisario Domínguez 513, Colonia Reforma, a laid back little place that specializes in the finer and artisanal points of corn masa and all that’s made with it.

6. Tacos

I know, I know. Tacos are broadly Mexican food not specific to Oaxaca. But damn if we didn’t get some of the best tacos on the planet during our stay in town. A good taqueria focuses on the meat, but doesn't forget that the condiments make the difference.

Our favorite taco place for excellent meat flavor, tortillas and generous high-value condiments: Los Mero Mero Sombrerudos (Universidad 112, Fraccionamiento Trinidad de las Huertas).

You’ll have your choice of taco meat (they’ll even give you a sample taste of all of them if you ask nicely), including al pastor, carnitas and castillo. Our favorite: the castillo, but you can get a plate with any combination (9 pesos/taco). They prepare the meat on the grill right up front. And if Sombrerudos doesn’t float your boat, there are other decent taquerias Oaxaqueños nearby on Universidad Street.

For those of you who are adventurous eaters, consider cow head tacos in Oaxaca.

7. Tamales (traditional, corn husk)

Again, I know traditional tamales are very much a broadly Mexican dish, but get yourself to Oaxaca and check out the tamale recommendation from our landlord (who was also our dentist!).

Tamales Mina is a simple street stand that shows up around 7:30 PM on the corner of Avenida Hidalgo and 20 de Noviembre. The grandmother behind the operation has been cranking out tamales for over 20 years (and our landlord swears the quality hasn't changed). Fillings and sauce are tasty and generous.

Today, her children sell the tamales for her at night. Grandma offers seven tamale flavors and all are good, but the mole coloradito and mole verde tamales were our favorites. Come early as a line forms quickly and they sell out quickly.

8. Tamales Oaxaqueños (or Tamales Hoja)

Banana leaf-wrapped tamales. They look like South American humitas, but they are the Oaxacan alternative leaf-wrapped tamales. Tamales Oaxaqueños feature similar fillings to the traditional tamale, like frijol (beans) or mole negro.

To me, the leaf keeps the moisture in more reliably than the traditional corn husk. And anyhow, it doesn’t get any more beautiful than these.

9. Beer Snacks

The greatest budget travel tip in the world is right here, people.  Go to the right bar in Oaxaca, order a beer for around $2 and eat all night for free.

Yes, you read that right. They'll just keep bringing out more and more goodies, from fish soup to smoked meats to potato salads to endless bowls of nacho chips. But how, you ask?  

This is the beer snack antojitos culture in Oaxaca. The place you’re likely to hear about most often is La Red, but our favorite was the rooftop of Rey de Oros (Aldama No. 304 location near Mercado 20 de Noviembre). Our preferred Mexican beer for a night of snacking: Victoria.

10. Carnes Asada (cecina, tasajo or chorizo)

Meat-lovers rejoice. Be certain to check out the pasillo de carnes asadas (grilled meats hall) in Oaxaca’s 20 de Noviembre market. It’s a grilled meat saloon. Although busy every day of the week, it's packed with local families on weekends (especially Sundays).

Pick your meat: tasajo (thinly pounded beef, often air-dried to some extent), cecina (similarly thinly sliced pork), cecina enchilada (dusted with chili powder), and chorizo (Mexican sausage). Vegetarians don’t despair: the roasted vegetables are fabulous, as are the various vegetarian sauces and sides. The stand from which you choose your meat will grill everything for you.

Find a spot to sit (it can be tough!) and wait for your grilled goodies to be delivered to your table. The rest is easy. Kick back, enjoy your food and a take in traditional Oaxaca and an atmosphere of families gathered together to share a meal.

11. Goat’s Head Soup

A specialty of the Tlacolula Sunday Market, worth a visit for taste, life and color. Try the goat barbecue (barbacoa) and the goat soup consomme from the drippings. The entire scene is a fiesta.

12. Chile Relleno

Stuffed, roasted fresh poblano peppers. Not native to Oaxaca per se, good rellenos are to be had throughout the various markets in town. What’s even nicer still: some are not dipped and fried in egg batter, but are served naked so you can see the pepper skin and experience the pepper flavor right out front, without the blanket of fried batter.

13. Jicama

Mexican turnip or root, sometimes referred to as the Mexican yam. We’d find them served fresh, room temperature or chilled, and crispy as antojitos or snacks, dusted with salt or sugar and chili dust to go alongside a margarita or beer.  

Our favorite was a somewhat upscale variety we found at La Biznaga García Vigil No. 512.

14. Empanadas

Not the South American dough pocket empanadas you may be accustomed to, Oaxacan empanadas look a lot like a big memela (but with larger, thinner dough) and are stuffed and warm-roasted on a comal (a large, metal pan used throughout Mexico for cooking tortillas, memelitas, and tlayudas, as well as roasting peppers and other vegetables).

Our favorite empanada vendor hails at the local market in San José La Noria neighborhood on Jorge L. Tamayo Castellanos Avenida next to the fire station, but you'll also find a great selection of empanadas cooked up to order at the Tlacolula Sunday market and Mercado 20 de Noviembre.

15. Entomatadas

Tortillas stuffed with quesillo, covered with a tomato-based sauce and topped with fresh cheese. Simple, hearty, good. A common lunch menu item at stalls throughout the 20 de Noviembre market.

16. Enchiladas

Enchiladas, which you’ll find all over Mexico, are simply tortillas pan-fried with a chile sauce and served with some onion and cheese. Sometimes you’ll find them stuffed with meat or cheese, other times spicy tortillas alone.

In Oaxaca, you'll usually find enchiladas covered in a traditional Oaxacan mole sauce (see below for more on moles).

17. Chilaquiles

Chilaquiles is a dish composed of lightly fried tortilla strips or quarters topped with a wide-ranging regional and local variety of stuff not limited to salsas (green salsa verde seemed most common), meat (e.g., shredded chicken), refried beans, cheese like queso fresco or cotija, Mexican cream, and onions. Maybe even an egg.

Typically an early day breakfast, lunch, brunch or somewhere in between offering.

18. Hibiscus Horn Cones

Tortilla horns stuffed with seasoned hibiscus (or jamaica, the same reddish-purple stuff of jamaica agua fresca drink fame). Available at La Biznaga (García Vigil No. 512). A change-up from the traditional.

Oaxacan Moles

Oaxaca is also known as the land of the seven moles.

“We always say that our mothers make the best mole. But on the Day of the Dead, everyone shares their mole with everyone else so we all know who really makes the best mole in the village,” Yolanda, our cooking class instructor, explained how proper mole preparation is a highly respected skill.

She continued: “You have to burn the peppers and then soak them to remove the bitter. If you don’t take the bitter out of the chili peppers, people will talk badly of you.”

Talk about social pressure in the kitchen.

But what is a mole anyway?

It’s a style of sauce made from roasted ingredients that are then ground together and slow simmered to allow the varied flavors to blend and play off one another in a way that no single ingredient might be detected. The result: rich, complex, diverse, complementary flavors.

Oaxaca culinary fame is derived in great part from its seven varieties of moles. You'll find moles served on top of chicken, meat or enchiladas, as well as tucked inside empanadas and tamales. But not every mole is one that you'd eat every day. Like a party dress, some are reserved only for very special occasions.

19. Mole Negro (black sauce)

This is the most famous of all Oaxacan moles, perhaps because of its complexity and heavy reliance on chocolate.

“This is not a mole where you wake up in the morning and say on a whim, ‘I’m going to make mole negro today.’ It takes a lot of time to make and get it right,” Yolanda reminded us.

Mole negro ingredients include a selection of dried chiles (chilhuacles negros, guajillo chiles, pasilla chiles, ancho negro (mulatto) chiles, chipotle chiles) with seeds taken out and then soaked in water and blended with chocolate, bread, etc.

20. Mole Colorado (red sauce)

One of the members of Oaxaca’s seven great moles. Mole Colorado (or Mole Rojo) sauce is made with a variety of peppers (pasilla, ancho and others), almonds, chocolate and a host of sweet and savory spices.

21. Mole Coloradito (little red sauce)

Based on market menus in Oaxaca, mole coloradito is among the most popular. Similar to mole colorado, it features a few more green leaf spices along with chiles guajillo, pasilla and ancho, lending it a color slightly less deep than that of the mole colorado.

22. Mole verde (green sauce)

A mole made to show off local herbs and greens, mole verde can feature any number of the following items: epazote, hoja santa, pumpkin seeds, cilantro, poblano peppers, jalapeño peppers, parsley, spinach and nopales (cactus leaves).

23. Mole amarillo (yellow sauce)

Given that this sauce is more often red than yellow, the name always threw us off. Mole amarillo is a less complex mole made from guajillo an ancho chilies that almost looks like a sort of Mexican marinara. What makes it different from the red moles is that absence of nuts, chocolate and sweet bits like raisins.

Moles we haven't tried…yet

The remaining two moles are more difficult to find in the markets and in the every day. We confess that we did not try them, but wanted to highlight them among the “7 Moles of Oaxaca” and as something to seek out for the food curious among you.
1. Mole Chichilo
2. Mole Manchamantel (literally, tablecloth staining sauce)

Key Ingredients of Oaxacan Cuisine

24. Avocado leaves (hojas de aguacate)

Not any old avocado leaves, but avocado leaves from the Mexican avocado (Persea drymifolia) that impart a flavor of anise or licorice. This is an important flavor in the Oaxacan frijol (beans). Best toasted on a comal, a concave or flat Mexican griddle. Absolutely unique and delicious, and essential to local Oaxacan cuisine.

25. Avocado Criollo

An avocado where you can eat the skin! Criollo avocados are a local Oaxacan variety that are usually quite small and feature a soft skin that you can actually eat (a bit of an odd sensation, really). Much like its leaves which are used to flavor bean pots and other dishes, the avocado features a subtle anise flavor.

26. Epazote

Don’t eat epazote by itself, but be aware that it’s one of fine subtle herbs that makes Mexican food (and Oaxacan food) taste so good. From the Aztec words for skunk and sweat, epazote is that inimitable flavor of pepper, mint and something wild that you’ll typically find stewed into various dishes.

Rumor also has it that epazote decreases flatulence. Perhaps that’s why it's stewed into beans and onions to make frijoles de la olla. Epazote is also referred to as wormseed and Jesuit's tea, among others.

27. Chapulines (Grasshoppers)

Chapulines: you must try them. Think crunchy like popcorn shells and eaten voluminously like potato chips.

Chapulines are ideal on top of a tlayuda. Maybe that’s why when you buy a tlayuda at the Mercado 20 Noviembre, the chapulines vendors will gather 'round.

28. Quesillo (Oaxacan cheese)

We joke that quesillo is like string cheese or mozzarella, but with a bit more of a salt tang because it is brined.

At the market, quesillo is often stored in long white ribbons that are wound, unwound and cut like a ball of yarn or trim at a fabric shop. About two meters of quesillo equals one kilo. It’s best to eat or use quesillo fresh, since storing it for any length of time in the refrigerator will alter its consistency.

29. Peppers

Wow, Oaxacan peppers! Ancho, poblano, pasilla, chilaca, chile negro — you name it. Some of them go by multiple names.

The one best known to Oaxaca is the pasilla chile. But beware, if you come shopping for a particular pepper that you need for a recipe, you ought to come armed with a photo of the one(s) you need, as names are often applied interchangeably.

Some are easy-going, some are en fuego. Where to begin?

Take a walk through any market (Mercado de 20 Noviembre pepper section will overwhelm) and you will be blown away, almost to tears, by the vast selection of fresh and dried peppers on offer. Each one has its purpose, whether it’s a dried pepper for a specific style of mole a fresh one for stuffed pepper (chile relleno). Habanero peppers are not used as often in Oaxaca as they are in nearby Yucatan and Chiapas.

30. Chocolate

Chocolate has been a staple of this region since ancient times. It is not usually eaten, but instead is used in drinks and also as a crucial defining ingredient of Oaxacan cuisine, including in several of its famous moles.

The aroma of freshly ground chocolate literally takes over the streets around the 20 de Noviembre market; this is a hub for the region’s chocolate producers. Be sure to visit Chocolate Mayordomo where chocolates of varying intensity and sweetness are ground from fresh cocoa beans (cacao).

31. Chicharrón

Fried pork skin. You can certainly try it on its own as a snack, but you might also get it thrown in atop a tlayuda or other dish for crunch and flavor.

32. Hoja Santa

Hoja Santa (“sacred leaf”) is a popular Mexican herb used to flavor various chocolate drinks, soups, stews and Oaxacan mole verde. The fresh leaves, used to impart a faint pepper licorice flavor, are sometimes also used to wrap tamales (see tamales hojas). The dried leaves can be used as a seasoning, but they are more flavorful when fresh.

33. Squash Blossoms (Flor de Calabazas)

If you are hanging out in Oaxaca for a while and have access to a kitchen, try finding squash blossoms at one of the local Oaxaca markets. Take them home and make deep fried squash blossoms, cheese-filled squash blossoms, or even squash blossom soup. Or take the easy way out and find a market vendor who fries squash blossoms with onions and poblanos and tucks them with some quesillo into an empanada or quesadilla.

Oaxaca Drinks

34. Tejate

An indigenous drink (from the Mixtec and Zapotec people) made of corn, cacao, and other unusual bits like the seeds of the mamey (or zapote) and flor de cacao (or Rosita de cacao). As such, the drink is mildly chocolatey and earthy. It feels like it ought to do something transcendental to you.

We tried our hand at a couple versions, including at one of the stands in the main hall of Oaxaca’s Etla market.

35. Hot Chocolate

Yes, you have to try real hot chocolate. Even though you may be accustomed to taking it with milk (de leche), try it local style with water (de agua).

Wherever you buy it, be certain to ask for it nice and frothy, preferably using a hand-spun frother called a molinillo. A good place to try several types of chocolate is Chocolate Mayordomo.

36. Coffee

Though coffee culture suffers south of the Mexican border (it is getting better), it’s alive and well in Oaxaca. So alive and well, I might go so far as to say I’ve had some of the most consistently good coffee ever in my life in Oaxaca. Just check it out and let us know. Best coffee in Oaxaca? We say Cafe Nuevo Mundo.

37. Beer

If you drink beer, you must drink beer in Oaxaca, so you can be a world beer aficionado.

Corona? I’m sorry, but I try to avoid touching the stuff. Pacifico and Negra Modelo are OK, but our favorite refreshing go-to beer: Victoria.

38. Mezcal

Growing up, I always thought of mezcal as dirty, like an outlaw tequila. It was probably the agave worm, which by the way does not appear in all bottles of mezcal. So what is it?

I go to Oaxaca and I find the real story (or at least the story told by Oaxaquenos): a smoky, double-distilled roasted mash made from the heart of the maguey plant (of the agave family) called a piña (as in pineapple, which is not surprising as the maguey hearts look like enormous barrel-sized pineapples hearts).

Tequila, by the way, is a specific type of mezcal made from the blue agave.

Experience this yourself with a half day tour that includes mezcal tasting right from the source. Or, if you really want to go deep into the subtleties of mezcal, sign up for this organic mezcal tasting at a local mezcal cooperative.

39. Margaritas

By no means am I a margarita expert, but I certainly enjoyed a margarita (or two) on the rocks in Oaxaca. Blended margaritas are for the beach. The margaritas at La Biznaga were our favorite. But, be careful after a few of them…

Oaxaca Fruits and Sweets

40. Tuna Ice Cream

No, it’s not what you think. Tuna is the name of the colorful fruit tip of the prickly pear cactus. In and around Oaxaca, you can find ice cream, ice milk and bright slushy-type stuff made from tuna the fruit, not the fish from the sea!

41. Oaxaca Fruit and Juice

I know, I know. You are thinking super lame entry, right? But here’s the deal, the fruit in Oaxaca is excellent and is often quite inexpensive if you know where to look. Fruit is also a great way to balance out all those heavy foods and to rehydrate. Eat your fruit!

And if you are lazy, it’s often sliced up for you, ready to eat.

You'll find the traditional stuff like watermelon, pineapple and a little further afield like papaya or mango on the street or near markets. Check out the fruit stands at the southeast corner of 20 Noviembre market. To go further still, don’t forget to poke around, be curious and check out the following fruit in whole form or in juice: guanabana, zapote, chico, zapote, chamoy and maracuya (passion fruit).

I’m a fruit-by-itself kind of guy, but the Oaxacan locals love fruit cut in a bag and dashed with chili pepper, lime juice and salt. Surprisingly, it’s particularly refreshing on a hot day.

If you find yourself in Oaxaca, you gotta juice. Juice stands abound throughout Oaxaca's streets and in its markets. One of our favorite juice stands: Jugos Angelita stand at the Sanchez Pascuas market. Try one or two of the cleansing blends, especially after a night of — you guessed it — margaritas.

Oaxaca Day Tours and Other Things to Do

Although most of the two months we spent in Oaxaca was focused on work, we did have some fun along the way. In addition to taking this Elta market visit and cooking class, we got out a bit to explore nearby historic and natural sites.

We booked our day tours by just walking around and seeing who had a tour leaving that day or the next. However, if you have limited time or are bit more organized than us and want to book in advance we can recommend using our partners, Get Your Guide and Viator. They both offer Oaxaca day and food tours with no booking fees and free cancellation up to 24 hours before.

Here are a few tours and experiences we recommend. (Note: Some of the links below are affiliate links where the price stays the same to you, but we earn a small commission if you book something.)

Oaxaca City Tours

• Oaxaca Street Food Tour: Taste over 25 different types of Oaxacan street foods and specialties (included in price) as you visit three of the city's main fresh markets and street stalls areas. As markets are a main focus of this 4-hour tour you'll learn about the ingredients, spices and flavors that make Oaxacan cuisine so unique. If you want a shorter food tour and market option where you choose which foods you want to sample then check out this 1.5 hour Oaxacan street food tour.
• Private Oaxaca Food Tour: Sample over 20 different local Oaxacan specialties at locally-owned restaurants to understand and taste the full breadth of Oaxacan cuisine. This 4-hour food tour takes you through the historic center so you'll enjoy a mini walking tour at the same time. A portion of the tour fees goes to a local NGO. If you would like to expand your knowledge of mezcal at the same time then check out this private food and mezcal tour.
• Oaxacan Cooking Class: One of the best ways to really learn about and appreciate a cuisine is by taking a cooking class. We took this full day (9AM – 6PM) cooking class in Oaxaca that includes a visit to the Etla market followed by cooking several dishes (soup, appetizer, tacos, mole, etc.). If you are looking for a shorter experience, check out this half-day Oaxaca cooking class with a local chef that includes a market visit and a then cooking a changing menu of different types of tortillas, salsa, soup, appetizer, mole and dessert. Many cooking classes will adjust their menus to vegetarians, but you can also select a fully vegetarian cooking class.
• Half-Day Oaxaca City Tour: One of the ways we often orient ourselves when we arrive in a new city is by taking a walking tour. This provides us a background on the history and culture of the place, an overview of the main historical sights, and ideas on where we want to continue our exploration. We find that the walking tour guides often have great food and restaurant recommendations, too.
• Oaxaca Street Art Bike Tour: We find that street art tours are a great way to get to know a city and also to learn about local cultural, political and historical context through the imagery and messages in the street art. Oaxaca has some truly incredible street art and murals all throughout the city. So colorful, full of cultural expression, and unique. We wish we had been able to take this tour when we were there to have been able to really learn about the artists and understand better the messages and context behind the art. If you prefer to explore on foot than by bicycle, select this Oaxaca street art walking tour instead.

Day Trips Near Oaxaca City

• Full Day Tour Around Oaxaca: We did a full-day trip very similar to this and really enjoyed it, especially the visits to Hierve el Agua waterfalls and mineral baths, Mitla (1,000+ year old Zapotec archeological site) and the Mezcal distillery. It's a lot packed into one day, but if you were to organize all of this independently with public buses it would take several days to fit all of this in.
• Monte Alban and Villages: We visited Monte Alban on our own via public bus and while we enjoyed visiting this UNESCO Zapotec archeological site, I think we would have enjoyed and appreciated it even more if we had a guide to explain more to us about what we were seeing, background on Zapotec history and culture, and the significance of this site. This full-day tour also takes you to nearby historical towns and villages to learn even more about the Zapotec civilization and culture, and its impact on Oaxaca and Mexico today. If you have limited time, you can take a half-day tour that focuses only on Monte Alban.
• Microfinance and village tour: For a unique experience to get a better understanding of rural and village life outside of Oaxaca city, consider booking a microfinance tour with En Vía, a local social enterprise. You'll have a chance to learn about how microfinance programs work and meet some of the women participants to see how they have used their small loans to build their own businesses and enterprises. You'll also get a delicious home-cooked lunch as well. Money from the tours go to supporting the women involved and providing a source of funding to the NGO. One of our friends volunteered with En Vía years ago and shared these beautiful stories.

Where to Stay: Oaxaca Hotels and Apartments

During our two-month stay in Oaxaca we spent a few days in an Airbnb place until we found our own apartment to rent for the remainder of the time. If you're going for a shorter stay we'd recommend staying near the markets or historic center. A few ideas for hotels and apartments that would be centrally located and easy to get around on foot.

• Hotel Casona: Located in a 19th century palace with a beautiful courtyard, Hotel Casona is in a great location just a block away from the main square and Cathedral, as well as close to the 20 de Noviembre Market and other main sites. This hotel is on the pricier side, but you can often find deals for it and it's a nice splurge.
• Casa Tobalá: Good location just a couple blocks away from the Zocaló square and located right next to the main markets. This hotel also has a nice rooftop terrace with views over Oaxaca and a cute courtyard area to hang out. A good medium-priced hotel option.
• Casa Azecenas: Located in a colorful, traditional building in Oaxaca's old town with a rooftop terrace to enjoy breakfast. Casa Azecenas is located about 10 minutes away from the markets and main square, so it is good for those who want a quieter location in the old town.
• Juub Apartment: If you want a bit more space, including your own kitchen to either cook things you find from the market or bring back prepared food from the market, then consider choosing an apartment for your stay in Oaxaca. Conveniently located at around 5-10 minute walk to the main markets, Cathedral and squares.
• Find more hotels in Oaxaca via Booking.com. The list above of hotels and apartments in Oaxaca is just the beginning of what's available.

You can also book your secure Oaxaca airport transfer in advance to ensure that you have a driver waiting for you when you arrive.

Gluten Free Eating in Oaxaca

If you have celiac disease or a gluten intolerance there's good and bad news about gluten free eating in Oaxaca and Mexico in general. On the positive side, many traditional dishes are made from corn. On the negative side, sometimes flour and bread makes their way into moles and other traditional sauces when you least expect it. It's important to always be careful and ask questions.

To help you navigate Oaxacan food so that you can eat local, but also gluten free and with confidence, check out this Latin American Spanish gluten-free restaurant card and Gluten Free Guide to Mexico created by our friend, Jodi. The restaurant card explains in detail, using local food names and language, your needs as a strictly gluten free eater, including common problems regarding cross contamination, so that you get the meal you want and need. (Bonus: You can use it when you travel in any Spanish speaking Latin American country, from Mexico to Chile.)

Jodi has celiac disease herself so she understands first-hand the importance of being able to communicate gluten free needs in detail and educate waiters and restaurants on what this means in practice. She created her series of Gluten Free Restaurant Cards in different languages to help celiac and gluten-free travelers eat local with confidence, and without communication problems or getting sick.

Note: These gluten free restaurant cards are not part of an affiliate plan or a way for us to make money. We are extremely fortunate that we can eat everything, but we've seen the challenges of others who are celiac or have food intolerances where every meal can potentially make them sick or cause pain. These detailed gluten free cards were created to help prevent that from happening and make eating out fun and enjoyable when traveling.

So that's it, folks. Get yourself to Oaxaca and explore, eat heartily, and eat well! Anything we missed, leave us a comment!

¡Buen provecho!

Other Food Guides From Unusual Destinations That You Might Enjoy:

The post Oaxaca Food: 40+ Best Foods in Oaxaca, Mexico appeared first on Uncornered Market.

This is a story about finding love just when you'd sworn off looking for it.

In early September, Audrey and I co-presented at a conference in Monterey, California. Monterey just also happens to be the place where we'd first met almost exactly 15 years before, where our joint approach to life on the road got its start.

In the driveway, the exact spot where our lives together began, we got to thinking how best to answer another oft-asked question: “So how did you guys meet?”

This is the story, roughly and in brief, like we might tell it at a bar. His and hers, back and forth, crumpled unlined notepad paper, speckled with red wine. History, revision, and an occasional differing point of view.

Dan: As I walked down the street vaguely wine-addled, I witnessed two young women emptying a small car of a large pile of worldly collegiate possessions. One of the women looked up. She took a long gaze at me, then dropped her bags, her breath apparently taken away. Her name was Audrey.

For her, this was love at first sight.

Audrey: Imagine that scratching sound where the record-player needle gets pulled across the record. Let’s reintroduce ourselves to the truth.

Dan: You want the whole truth? OK. So much for keeping this short.

It was August 1997. I had been living in San Francisco in a jaggy one bedroom, 495 square foot apartment. To its miniature defense, the building had a hot tub on the roof and featured a full view of the Golden Gate Bridge and a sliver view of the Bay Bridge.

I shared this abundant abode with my friend Tony. I drove a VW Cabriolet. I was told nickel-for-a-rich-man-so-many-times that my hair made me look like Flock of Seagulls. So basically, I rolled with a circa mid-1980s look. But I could cook, sort of. I drank wine, and not just white zinfandel. I wore double-breasted suits with suspenders to meetings with clients and somehow thought that was appropriate.

I was dating. Women. A few of them. I was a management consultant and spent a lot of time on the road. (This makes me sound like I think I was a player. I was not. I was simply confused.) Anyhow, by mid-August of that year I had sworn off dating for an indefinite spell, if only to clear my head. No more dating, at least not for a while.

Then something happened.

I got a phone call from a friend. (Or was it an email?)

“You want to come down and meet me in Monterey? I’m headed back for a couple of weeks.” An elementary school friend then stationed in the U.S. Army in Korea had planned a visit back to Monterey, California to see his girlfriend.

Monterey. Friends. Weekend. A free place to crash. Tony and I could take a drive down the coast, tool around the area, and hit the Monterey Wine Festival.

Sure. Why not?

It was an unusual Monterey weekend. While a bit of fog graced the peninsula that morning, it burned off early. And with the Monterey Wine Festival underway — something that Tony and I would take advantage of from about the time doors opened around noon — a perfect day was served.

After a few oysters, tapas and a dose of mid-afternoon wine tasting-qua-guzzling, we opted to head back to the apartment for a recovery nap.

I cut my way down the street, probably feeling cool, but looking much less, haphazardish. There were two young women, a little sun beat, emptying crates and bags from a scrappy, well-worn gray Volkswagen Golf GTI.

As Tony and I approached, he suggested that we might help the young women unpack their car. Their destination: the same house where we’d slept the night before. Points to Tony for chivalry in time.

Hmmm. This could get interesting. Who needs to swear off women for a while, anyway?

Audrey: I had just driven across the United States, a 3,000 mile road trip from Virginia with a close friend, in my 10-year old VW GTI. “California, here I come!” I felt. Living in California, graduate school, Peace Corps. Three life goals coming together within a year.

Me and my GTI, the final leg cross-country, up the Big Sur coast.

Boys would play no part in it. Nope. This was going to be my year.

So I laughed when my housemate’s boyfriend, Tom, half jokingly warned me of his friends visiting from San Francisco: “They’re trawling for women.”

As I began unloading my life from the car, I heard offers of help ring from the foot of the driveway. Two guys, a little worse for wear from the sun and fun, introduced themselves and quickly joined in to help carry my stuff.

Dan’s memory of my being struck by love? Perhaps a misread of my amusement: How eager these two guys were to help. A little too eager I’d say.

Dan: Ouch.

The rest of the afternoon and evening was a bit of a haze. There was interest, some jockeying. We went to a local pub en group, returned home, and continued to chat. Audrey put away, rather impressively, a few Boddington Ales.

As everyone else peeled off to sleep, Audrey and I stayed up. I don’t recall all that we talked about, but it was apparently a lot because we were up almost the whole night. Travel was certainly part of it. I was mesmerized by Audrey's international background — from a family of diplomats and missionaries, of a life overseas. I felt like the local boy trying to figure out the world, even as I prepared for my first trip abroad to India and Indonesia that winter.

We talked economic theory, too, recovering Econ majors bound in shared nerd-dom. We even discussed the Coase theorem.

Who on earth opens a relationship by talking about the Coase theorem?!

In no way did the scene sing romance. This was not a bar out of the Frank Sinatra song, It Happened in Monterey.

Audrey: I’m good with this version of events. It was fun. Goofy, really. I didn’t think much about it. I was leaving in nine months and there was no point in meeting anyone, Economics majors or otherwise. Easy come, easy go.

Or perhaps because I was leaving in nine months I was more open to taking chances.

Dan: On my way out the door back to San Francisco, I gave Audrey my details: “Here’s our address, my cell phone.”

Audrey’s friend, Sarah, was scheduled to fly out of San Francisco late the following afternoon. Their plan: to visit San Francisco and stay with Audrey’s brother. (Maybe I pulled off being cool, but I'm sure I double-checked the number at least ten times before I handed it over.)

“Just in case things don’t work out with your brother and you need a place to stay.”

Come late Monday afternoon, I got the call. Rather conveniently, things hadn’t worked out with Audrey's brother, and there were Audrey and Sarah, planless and no place to stay but chez Dan and Tony.

It was also Audrey’s birthday. With Tony’s counsel, we collected provisions from an Italian deli or two in North Beach and headed out to a cliffside spot in the Presidio with a sunset view of the Golden Gate.

No impromptu birthday picnic could beat this. I’d stolen Audrey’s heart, though in reality it was pretty much Tony’s idea, so maybe he was the one doing the stealing for me. Thank goodness someone in the story used good judgment. We get by with a little help from our friends. Sing it with me.

Everything was left open-ended. No commitment to continue that either of us can remember.

But alas. The following day when Audrey took off back to Monterey, she also conveniently left behind a pair of shoes. “Easy come, easy go, eh?”

Eventually, she got the shoes.

And I got the girl.

Epilogue

During the weekends that followed, we jumped out of an airplane at over 15,000 feet, hiked together in Yosemite, and earned our scuba diving certifications in the uncomfortably cold waters of Monterey Bay.

A couple months later, I left for my first trip outside of North America to India and Australia (hence, the scuba diving classes). Audrey left several months later for the Peace Corps, which would take her away to Estonia for 27 months.

Time was short. When we think back, we feel like we squeezed every ounce of experience out of those first few months together.

This was how we — and our approach to life — came together in those early days.

Nowadays, we spend 24×7 with each other. For the behind the scenes on that story, you’ll just have to wait for another post.

The post It Happened In Monterey (Or, How We Met) appeared first on Uncornered Market.

This is a story about a baby turtle and how we helped to set him free. It's also a tale of working together and conservation gone right.

“Blood is heavier than water. The surface of this beach used to be covered in blood, turtle blood,” explained our boat captain, a former fisherman, as he pointed to a sandy beach just down the coast from where we'd launched in Mazunte, Mexico.

He continued, pointing, “See the ramp? It was used to send the turtle meat up for processing. We would take all the meat from inside the shells. Everything was used. Sometimes we processed thousands of turtles a day. The meat was then sent inland. That’s where the money was.”

But that was then, and fortunately this is now.

For the sea turtles of Mexico’s Pacific Coast, as well as for its people, this sad backstory comes with a happy ending — in the form of a little turtle like the one above having a chance to survive to full term, hatch into the world, and with a little help, make its way into the wild as nature intended.

From Turtle Harvest to Turtle Preservation

In Mexico, turtles were big business. If the turtle eggs themselves weren’t harvested, grown turtles and every last bit of their physical being were.

In response to declining turtle populations, the Mexican government placed a ban on turtle eggs in 1971, but it was largely ignored. An official ban on the harvesting of turtle meat and eggs followed in 1990, this time with greater enforcement. And although it’s impossible to put a full stop to turtle fishing, the turtle slaughterhouse has shut down and there are steep penalties for people caught trading in turtle meat.

During the transition, however, the Mexican government took into consideration those whose livelihoods depended on turtle fishing. In addition to helping families set up guest houses for tourists, the government encouraged turtle fisherman to offer turtle tours – for travelers to witness turtles swimming freely in the ocean — as an alternative and more sustainable means to a living.

These days, that same coastline where the ground was covered in blood now plays host to local families and tourists enjoying a day at the beach.

One bay over from where the turtle slaughterhouse had been located, the Mexican National Turtle Center (Centro Mexicano de las Tortugas) in Mazunte now offers tours to school groups and educates them about sea turtles and the principles of ocean conservation.

From turtle harvesting to turtle conservation in a little over a decade. Where there's a will, there's a way.

The Egg: Protecting Turtles from the Beginning

The center also monitors where various species of sea turtles lay their eggs and moves the eggs to protected areas along the beach. When the eggs are ready to hatch, the center then organizes “turtle liberation” (liberation de las tortugas) events at various beaches nearby.

When a turtle liberation takes place, they post signs around town announcing the time and location of the event. Everyone is welcome to participate – to learn firsthand about sea turtles, support the center with a voluntary donation, take a brand new baby turtle in hand, and release it to run free into the ocean.

Our Turtle Liberation

Just far enough back from the pounding waves of the ocean at Playa de Ventanilla, our turtle liberation organizer drew a line in the sand for us all to stand behind. He explained the conservation work of the center that helps protect sea turtles, from the moments when the adults deposit their eggs on the beach to when the babies are set free into the water.

Our organizer held up a large turtle shell, with the skull attached. “We found this two months ago. All the meat had been taken. People still capture sea turtles for meat. Our work is not finished.”

Then he went around with the basket of baby turtles, perhaps a hundred or more, to be released. They were tiny little things, crawling on top of each other, squirming to be free.

We could each choose one.

It was an oddly emotional event. In seconds, we developed an attachment to the baby turtles we'd chosen. They were so small, but surprisingly strong. Their instincts clearly led them; they wanted freedom to make their own way.

When we looked out at the water, the waves were so big and rough. They were more than we could take on. As tiny as our turtles were, we worried about how they'd ever survive.

But once we set them on the ground, they scampered toward the water with all their might. We were giddy, like proud parents, as we watched them disappear into the waves and swim away.

This would be the swim of their lives.

Not all of their brothers and sisters found the same initial fortune, however. Some hit the waves at the wrong time, were tossed about and landed on their backs in the sand. We took turns turning the lost turtles right side up, perhaps a little closer to the water to give them a head start on their life in the wild. After twenty minutes or so, all the turtles were in the water, the sun had set and we found ourselves on a natural high.

Sure, we had seen beautiful turtles in the museum earlier that day, but taking part in the launch of a baby turtle’s life into the wild was an entirely different experience. From blood on the beach to turtle liberation, an opportunity had been seized amidst challenge.

The following day, during our boat tour, we saw dozens of giant turtles swimming about, catching a breath at the water’s surface. Up, gulp, and back down. Large and graceful, they'd seen a few years.

We can only hope that when you take your boat ride someday, you’ll get a chance to see our turtles.

—-

Planning a visit to the Mexican National Turtle Center and a Turtle Liberation

If you are planning a trip to Oaxaca and the Pacific Coast, and especially if you have kids, consider paying a visit to the Turtle Center and timing your visit with a “turtle liberation.” Your kids will love you for it. And you will love it, too!

Because of the diversity of sea turtles in the area, you'll find different species laying eggs throughout the year. We were in Mazunte at the end of March/early April and there were liberation events almost every day. However, we’ve been told that May to July is the high season for turtle hatchlings.

Don’t pay attention to touts selling “turtle liberation” tours for 100+ pesos. This one is easy to do yourself. Check in with the Turtle Museum (preferably at the beginning of your stay in the area) and inquire about planned turtle liberations. The schedule and location will depend on the condition and quantity of the hatchling baby turtles.

Our event was at 6PM on Ventanilla beach, just around sunset (also a spectacular photo opportunity). A collectivo or taxi from Mazunte to the road that goes to Ventanilla (2 km) should cost 5 or 10 pesos ($0.40-$0.80). From there you have a pleasant walk for 1 km. For a ride that gets you down to the actual beach, plan to pay a little more (e.g., 40 pesos/$3.20).

The post A Turtle Liberation: A Sad Story with a Happy Ending appeared first on Uncornered Market.

Tucked into the folds of the jungle in Mexico's Chiapas region stands the mostly buried and only very partially exposed Mayan ruins of Palenque. If you haven't already experienced this place or you've come to feel ruin fatigue in this part of the world, consider a visit. For us, it's become one of our favorites.

One part impressive grandeur, another part illuminating detail, Palenque exists in multiple layers and feels like a never ending dig. It consists of a complex full of classical Mayan structures on one level — palaces, temples, living quarters, funeral chambers and elaborate chunks of stone once carved with Mayan glyphs — and features a mysterious, differently-styled almost subterranean jungle world beneath.

And this is only what you are able to see. It's estimated that the visible bits of the site represent only 10% of what's actually there. Upon stepping foot on Palenque's grounds, you can almost imagine this figure an underestimate.

The photo below was taken from the edge atop the Palace and features the uber-grand Temple of the Inscriptions, a funerary monument built for K'inich Janaab' Pakal, a ruler of Palenque during the 7th century.

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Have you ever experienced something exceptional you’d hoped to capture and share, but you were forbidden to photograph or record it? That was the Easter celebration in the village of San Juan Chamula in the Chiapas region of Mexico.

This was no ordinary Catholic church, nor was this an Easter celebration like any we’d ever seen.

Unfortunately, photos and video were strictly forbidden inside the church and during the procession, so you'll have to take our words for it.

Inside San Juan Chamula Church

Inside the church, the air was thick with incense — as in enough incense to power Christianity for the coming year. The floor was strewn with long-needled pine branches, adding to both the aroma and the heightened sense of a connection with nature. Clearly, we were in the territory of Catholicism merged with indigenous Mayan traditions that predate “the new world.”

Along the walls, statues of various saints — some doll-like, others the three-dimensional equivalent of icons in ancient cave paintings — were ensconced in decorative wooden crates and draped in local herbs and flowers as if to suggest that they were torn between heaven and earth. Others wore mirrors around their necks, some say to deflect evil spirits, others say to protect them from cameras that sap their powers.

The church in San Juan Chamula was established in 1522, only 30 years after Columbus had set sail for the new world. The unique blend of practice suggested that the members had adopted European-style Catholicism rather begrudgingly. We were awestruck by the result: animistic, indigenous, spiritual, and religious all roiled into one.

The only lurking hints of modernity: bottles of soda clutched by a few churchgoers and an LED blinking star that looked as if it belonged in a cheap casino, somewhere off-off strip. The folks running this church took a page out of the “let's embrace ancient traditions and throw in a touch of flash while we're at it” in selective effect in temples throughout the world.

There were no pews. Instead, a flow of squat locals plodded through the center of the church, bumping through a few far-too-tall gringos as smoke plumes curled to the ceiling. At the foot of each of the saints, a group of indigenous women and children communed with friends and relatives in prayer. They lit candles and shared bottles of Coca-Cola, their apparent elixir of choice.

Deep inside, the altar was mobbed. As far as we could tell, there was no priest, just more crowds of villagers, including women with black stone chalices stuffed with giant incense embers smoldering away. One woman waved her smoking cup in large sweeping motions. Thankfully the church was constructed mainly of stone, for her moves otherwise would surely have burned us all to the ground. In this place, the air was so thick and the oxygen so thin, divine apparitions came easy.

Heavy and ethereal, earthbound and cosmic. We stood amidst it all for several minutes, absorbing the scene with all our senses, wishing at times we’d had some sort of “blink camera” just to capture it.

But in all the activity we felt like interlopers, as if we were intruding.

The Procession

Emerging into the open air and church square carried with it freedom – the freedom of oxygen and freedom to the wider world where we stood out as gringos just a little bit less. We retreated to the far end where we sat on a curb platform that traced the edge of the church courtyard.

We absorbed the early morning visual: indigenous Tzotzi men in furry woolen white capes, others in black, clusters of Tzotzi women with market day purchases bundled in tow, babies slung to their backs, and little kids chasing one another like they might just about anywhere else, bugging their mothers for ice cream money.

As the church clock approached noon, the sun cooked us and the surrounding air to baking hot. A weak honk from the ice cream cart punctuated a stillness descending. People were set to hang out on the church square for the day, it seemed.

We figured it was time to go. So we got up.

Then something stirred.

Local boys began a frantic sweeping of the sidewalk behind us. More men and boys followed behind them, laying down a blessed carpet of sorts, scattering pine needles and branches across the cleaned squares of ground at the courtyard edge.

A group of men dressed in white capes marched into the gazebo nearby. Men in black woolen capes and colorful headwear followed. They stood at attention, the sheaths of their ceremonial swords pointing out.

In a matter of minutes, more guardsmen gathered, sealing off the courtyard archway entrance. Those who were in the courtyard were in, us included. Those outside had to watch over the walls.

Audrey took out the video camera and began a slow pan. A group of men in wool coats descended. “No photos! No video!” I’m surprised they didn’t take the camera. This was serious. She put it away and apologized.

It turns out that the men in white were local law enforcement, a citizen police force.

Then crowds, saints and clouds of incense billowed forth from the church.

Seconds later, another stir. A couple of men yelled to one another, “Photo, photo!” and pointed outside the walls. A young blond woman, not exceptionally tall, but taller than anyone around, was besieged, swamped by angry men in white capes. They inspected her camera, buttons were pressed. Footage was certainly deleted.

The men in white, confident they had put an end to it all, returned to their post on the gazebo.

As three bell men atop the church began stroking the bells, men carrying brightly colored flags adorned with more saints and apostles emerged from the church. As if to animate the spirits in those flags, they bounced their staffs ever-so-slightly as they made their way to the blessed arch, right in front of us.

Colors abounded. The saints, now outside, were brighter than before. They were further draped with greens, fronds, and herbs. The colors were vibrant, anything but somber — a little like Christmas meets Mardi Gras.

The sounds, a cacophony. One part celebration, another part lamentation, it sounded like the beginning of the war. Some blew bugles, others rang bells. Others still stroked boxy wooden indigenous instruments, bits and chunks dangling. Some lit fireworks in the courtyard, while others set off what could best be described as “a cannon in a can,” noisemakers that literally shook the earth as they went off. Some observers made as much noise as possible while others remained perfectly silent. Taking our cue from the indigenous girls around us –-they were old pros at this — we plugged our ears to protect our eardrums from the deafening sounds.

As the saints approached the arch, something occurred to us: We were among the very few – if not the only – foreigners in the courtyard crowd near the blessed arch. We were certainly privileged to witness this, completely by chance, with a virtual front row seat.

We had also realized that once the procession began, we were back to being ordinary human beings once again. There was no longer any attention paid to us, all eyes were on the event, in all its mayhem.

Young men sat atop the arch and tossed bunches of flower petals on the saints, bringing the crowd to a climax. When it was all over, women and children frantically collected the blessed petals and scooped them into burlap sacks and wooden buckets. Good luck at home for a few more days at least.

Some might say, “No photo? Then it didn’t happen.”

Not from where we were standing.

—–

Getting to San Juan Chamula: Collectivos (minivans) run frequently from near the main market in San Cristobal de las Casas to San Juan for 10 pesos ($0.80). Sunday is a particularly good today to visit because it is the day of the weekly market and we’ve heard that processions are a regular event, even when it's not Easter. Our advice: find a place on the church square to sit on the curb, try to blend in and then wait for everything to happen around you.

The post An Amazing Scene We Were Forbidden to Record: An Indigenous Easter Celebration in Chiapas appeared first on Uncornered Market.

Mexico has ruins, Mexico has beaches. But the only place in the country where you'll find them both? That's the Riviera Maya.

Our visit to Riviera Maya was short — only five days – but it was chock full, not only of beaches and ruins, but of tasty local cuisine, lush jungle, psychedelic jellyfish, and even some afternoon karaoke. When I think back, here are some of my favorite memories.

Favorite Memories from a Long Weekend in the Riviera Maya

1. Walking along the beach in late afternoon.

This is a simple one: water and long horizons have a calming, relaxing effect on me. Add to that the smell of saltwater and the humidity of the coast and you have my happy place cocktail. So the first thing we did when we arrived? Take a long walk along the beach.

2. Psychedelic jellyfish.

The specimen that washed up to our feet is known as a Portuguese man-o-war. Amazing to look at, but dangerous to touch.

3. Drinking champagne on deck under a full moon.

When we mentioned on our Facebook page having to fend off a cockroach on Valentine's Day, one of our fans encouraged us to take a “real vacation.” In this moment, champagne flute in hand, it felt as though we had fulfilled her wish.

4. Ogling the size of the Mayan ruins at Chichen Itza.

Some things never change. The wealthier they are, the bigger they build. Same went for the Maya. Even cooler than the size of Chichen Itza's El Castillo is the fact that if you clap loud enough along its side, the sound will bounce off the pyramid stone and echo back to you like a bird call. Someone's clever.

5. Yucatecan lunch at a ruined hacienda.

I’ve already gushed about how excited I was to finally eat puerco pibil and to discover the genius of blended roasted squash seeds, so I won't bore you by telling it all again. If you have an opportunity to eat a local meal at an old hacienda where vines and trees grow in and around the ruins of old buildings, jump on it.

6. Jumping into a cenote.

Before this trip, I had no idea what a cenote was or why swimming in a collapsed sink hole might possibly be considered inviting. On this score, I'm uninformed no more. You might even say I’m a cenote convert. It’s remarkable how the water inside of one stays so clean and cool.

7. There’s more to Yucatecan food than tacos and enchiladas.

Traditional Mayan recipes take a modern twist at Yaxche Maya Cuisine in Playa del Carmen. This brought us in touch with dishes like turkey stuffed with minced meat and simmered in a burnt pepper sauce, conchinita pibil (young pig slow cooked in sour orange and achiote sauce), and cheese stuffed with ground pork and kol (Mayan white sauce). And Mexican wine? We found it surprisingly good. We favored the Chardonnay overall, but among the reds the Cabernet Sauvignon left us pleasantly surprised.

8. Back street Cozumel food tour with a human touch.

Most visitors to Cozumel never make it off the main street. But that’s where Cozumel Chef’s food tour takes a different approach. Emily Egge brings together not only a progression of local dishes, but she puts a local human face on this otherwise tourist town. Among the fun small plates we kicked off our afternoon with: breaded shrimp tacos served with fiery habenero hot sauce.

And that human touch? Our Cozumel day ended with the owner of a family run seafood restaurant singing with his daughter in his arm in the late afternoon.

9. Bicycle ride down the jungle road at Coba Mayan ruins.

In contrast to Chichen Itza where shade is at a premium, the Mayan ruins at Coba are located smack in the Yucatecan jungle. Rent a bicycle or hire someone to cycle you around the grounds. It's downright pleasant.

10. Climbing to the top of the pyramid at Coba.

Most Mayan ruin complexes forbid tourists to climb to the top. Of course, this is completely understandable if the goal is preservation. Having said that, it's pretty cool to be able to climb a Mayan pyramid to the top. Just don't look down until you made it all the way. Ignorance is vertigo's worst enemy.

11. The quintessential perfect white sand beach of Tulum.

When we consider an ideal beach scene, Tulum definitely competes for top honors. White sand, fabulously blue water, not overrun, no giant resorts or heavy development along the beach. Just beautiful.

Don't you wish you could sit back with a cocktail here and spend the rest of the day? I know I do.

12. Ceviche and grilled seafood orgy.

I suppose this photo pretty much says it all. If it's a fresh seafood fix you seek, check out Ana & Jose's beachside restaurant at Tulum. We kicked off with ceviche towers, moved onto octopus carpaccio, then ended with the seafood mother lode. I never thought I could really ever fill up on fresh fish and seafood, until that day.

13. Tulum ruins without the crowds.

When we announced on our Facebook page that we were visiting the Mayan ruins at Tulum, one of our fans warned us of the crowds. However, arrived in late afternoon and not only was the heat backing off, but the light was soft and the people were few.

14. Relaxing in the bubble spa.

Need I say more?

—

The post A Long Weekend on the Riviera Maya: 14 Memories appeared first on Uncornered Market.

This is the story of a perfect afternoon in Yucatan, including relaxing in the ruins of a hacienda, eating a traditional Yucatecan lunch, swimming in a lush collapsed sinkhole, and perhaps most importantly, satiating my six-year long curiosity about something called puerco pibil.

“For lunch, everything is local,” Julia, our host, explained as she walked us about the grounds of the old hacienda near the Mayan ruins of Chichen Itza.

Under a shade tree, a couple of local women teamed up on making hand-made tortillas. One worked the corn dough masa into rounds while the other turned them on a wood-fired tin griddle called a comal.

Julia pointed to a small fire pit in the ground nearby, from which a red sauce bubbled out over banana leaves. “That’s the puerco pibil,” she foreshadowed the day’s main culinary event.

Puerco pibil!

My eyes widened and I did one of those secret happy dances inside. To appreciate why, you’d have to understand that my relationship with and pursuit of puerco pibil runs deep.

Over six years ago when we lived in Prague, we watched Once Upon a Time in Mexico, a film starring Johnny Depp. In it, Depp’s character Agent Sands, obsesses over puerco pibil, seeking it out and ordering the slow-roasted pork dish anywhere he can get it. Along the way, he tastes a puerco pibil so good that that he decides he must shoot the cook in order to “restore order to this country.”

This got my attention. I wanted to know the dish for myself.

Robert Rodriguez, the film’s director, details how to make it on the DVD. Armed with his instructions, I held out hope for making my own puerco pibil. However, the departure for our around the world journey got in the way, a fiasco ensued, and I almost missed my train to Dresden due to a failed attempt to offload the unused pork butt.

My curiosity about a dish that was immortalized by Johnny Depp in a low-budget film would finally be satiated.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Old Hacienda, New Tastes

In its heyday almost a century before, this hacienda was an active cattle ranch. Today, the grounds are lush, thick with vegetation, much like a jungle. A dirt track road from the main highway takes us ten minutes through brush and the occasional sisal plant, only to remind us how Mother Nature can so quickly undo the hard work of man and reclaim what is hers.

When we first arrived at the hacienda, we did so sun-kissed from a morning visit to Chichen Itza. The heat of the Yucatan is strong, almost brutal around midday. The shade of the hacienda was precisely what we needed.

To chase our thirst, our hosts served a sour orange lemonade restorative — a little tangy, but not quite sour like the fruit’s lime-like appearance might suggest. Our elixir goes well with a shared plateful of vegetables and fruit surrounding a shallow dip mound of chili pepper, salt, dehydrated lime and sugar.

Orange slices and chili pepper? Who would have thought?

This is how it’s done in Mexico.

Dzikipic: Complex Simplicity

From the veranda formed by an old stone house whose roof had collapsed, our Yucatecan culinary journey continued to something called “Dzikipic.”

Say it with me, ten times fast.

Oh, oh, oh. Simple and complex in turns, Dzikipic is a traditional Yucatan dip made from ground squash seeds blended with tomato and a collection of herbs and spices. A taste experience and comfort I wanted to wrap myself up in. To top it off, the presentation is knockout simple, served in a halved pepper, top still on.

This is culinary transcendence.

I make this promise to myself and to you: this recipe is coming soon. I’ve become a fan of anything made with roasted squash seeds, but this vies for top of the charts and inspires me to leap into the kitchen.

Puerco Pibil: The Real Deal…Finally

So you might be wondering: “What is puerco pibil again?”

Puerco pibil (or conchinita pibil) is a traditional Yucatecan dish of slow-cooked pork — preferably pit roasted and wrapped in banana leaves. The pork draws its flavor from being marinated then roasted in a sauce made from sour oranges and achiote that works to tenderize the meat to the point that it falls from the bone. (The Once Upon a Time in Mexico DVD recipe from Robert Rodriguez, by the way, also calls for a shot of tequila for taste and further tenderizing.)

So after six years of waiting, how was it?

Beautiful. Pork, moist and tender, flavorful; the sort of thing that melts in your mouth and leaves you admiring the combined taste sensation of citrus, spices and heat.

The whole thing was simple yet lavish in a way. Black beans, guacamole, a sour orange and red onion splash, pico de gallo and finely cut habanero peppers all served to round out the table.

Dessert: A Dip in the Cenote

Full up on puerco pibil, our group waddled from the grounds of the hacienda down a steep stone staircase into a lush, tropical scene reminiscent of a movie set – a cenote, a 30-meter deep sinkhole, tendrils descending to the surface of the water, another 60 meters deep. The air within the cenote was cool, yet exceptionally humid.

The water was dusted with a layer of limestone erosion from the cenote walls. It didn’t look that enticing, but Julia assured us: “Once you jump in, the dust will vanish. It’s clean. Just try it.”

Blane, the bravest of our group, just about jumped right in. The surface of the water suddenly cleared, revealing the depth and the life of the water below.

The rest of our group poured in. The cool water served as a fine finish, like a secret, our own private lagoon for the day.

I felt as though I’d completed one small circle of a larger journey. I’d come all this way and waited all this time to try puerco pibil, but unlike Johnny Depp, I felt no need to shoot the cook.

—–

The post A Yucatan Afternoon in Four Courses (or, How I Finally Found My Puerco Pibil) appeared first on Uncornered Market.

Last weekend, I arrived in Asheville, North Carolina to visit family. And boy, was I tired.

The last two months have been chock full: traveling from Central Europe to Crete to Istanbul to Iran, back to Istanbul, Germany and finally to a series of family visits up and down the east coast of the United States.

But I’ve been feeling a little spent. It’s not only the movement, but also my head, to the brim with fresh experiences and quite frankly deprived of the time and space to properly process them all. Amidst the fatigue, I began to wonder if perhaps I had reached some limit in what I could do, what I could take on.

Then I began to listen to my 95-year-old grandfather and his pals telling stories at their retirement home. They offered me a lift and a few lessons about life and determination.

These days, the world tends to look to youth for inspiration. But don’t count out the gray hairs, for there are many things we can learn from them, too.

Here are just a few lessons to learn from nonagenarians.

You are never too old to learn.

Andrew, one of my grandfather’s colleagues from when they both worked in India in the 1960s, now lives in my grandfather’s retirement complex.

He had to give up his violin lessons when he escaped Hungary in 1937 as his family began facing persecution for being Jewish.

“It had been 75 years since my last violin lesson. I wanted to play violin again, but I sounded awful. I decided I needed lessons.”

Andrew taking violin lessons anew after a 75-year break.

Earlier this year, he began taking violin lessons again. We asked how things are going.

“I’m progressing pretty well. It’s fun to play again,” Andrew chuckled.

He’s scheduled to play a Christmas concert this week. I imagine there are many more in his future, too.

Enjoy the moment.

We didn’t meet Liz Talmage, the woman playing piano in the video below, but heard her story on our first night in Asheville. Liz was 101 years old when this video was taken one evening of her and her nephew playing a duet of She’ll Be Comin’ Round the Mountain.

Later that evening, she played an encore of My Only Sunshine.

The next day, she took a nap and never woke up.

Enjoy the moment. You never know when you – or those around you – are going to go.

Keep on playing.

“I now play what I played in high school. The pieces from college are too difficult for my hands to reach the octaves,” my grandfather explained as he sat down at the piano.

He went on to play a challenging classical piece he’d memorized 80 years ago. He sounded great for any age, really. More importantly, he was having fun.

Even if you can’t do things quite the way you did in the past, it doesn’t mean you should stop. Continue to do what gives you joy. Daily.

Ask questions. Be curious.

One thing continually strikes me about my grandfather and my Oma (my mother’s mother): they never stop asking questions and they are always curious. They wanted to understand what we were up to, our plans for the coming year.

We tried to keep up with their questions.

“Now why are you going to Egypt again? What sort of conference is this?” they both asked about a travel and tourism conference in Cairo we are headed to this weekend.

Try to explain the life of a nomadic travel blogger to your 95-year old grandfather who has never even known email, much less the internet.

It gives you perspective.

Keep on moving. Be determined. Always.

”I can’t run up steps as fast as I used to,” my grandfather now explains, as if he must.

He may not be able to scale the stairs as fast as he once did, but that doesn’t prevent him from charging them anyhow. Sure, he might be a bit wobbly, a little slow. But he doesn’t complain. He’s still rather upright, too.

May we all charge our own sets of stairs with as much determination and grace.

One step at a time.

The post Keep Tickin’: Life Inspiration from Nonagenarians appeared first on Uncornered Market.

Ah, kids these days. The list runs long of their digital addictions: texting, gadgets, Facebook, internet, and video games. But during our visit to the U.S., we bore witness to a few fleeting moments that reaffirmed that kids are still kids.

That is to say, kids as we knew them: little girls leveraging the lemonade-stand model to raise money for an afternoon trip to the toy store, middle schoolers oohing and aahing over stories about eating bugs and engaging with giant rodents, and high schoolers jumping off absurdly high cliffs to demonstrate their mettle.

With cultural evolution at high speed, it’s comforting to know that while many things have changed, a few remain the same.

Note: If you are looking for eye candy, check out the time lapse audio slideshow of the kids jumping off the ledge at the waterfall here.

Little Kids and Lemonade Stands

After a visit to the Saturday farmer’s market, we strolled the residential streets of Black Mountain, North Carolina and encountered Gracie and her friend, Elizabeth. Their sidewalk stand featured a container of ruby-colored juice and a stack of plastic cups.

Even at a distance, there were no signs needed. The scene was immediately recognizable, iconic, and reminiscent of something timeless and American.

“Do you want a glass of cranberry juice?” Gracie asked as we approached from the corner.

“Sure. How much?” I asked

“Ten,” Gracie responded.

“Ten cents?” I asked. We hadn't lived in the U.S. for nine years. I wasn’t sure if inflation had taken such hold that a glass of juice now fetched $10.

“Yes. And you get a free daisy, too,” Gracie sweetened the deal.

Sold. We asked them to combine our two juice orders in one glass so they could cut down on costs (and garbage) and hung out with them as we drank our juice.

“We're raising money to go to the toy store later. We want to buy more bracelets,” Elizabeth explained as she pointed to the colorful bracelets decorating her arm. They looked a lot like gummy bracelets from my childhood.

We wished them luck as we said goodbye. I put one daisy in my hair and saved the other for my grandmother.

8th Graders and Gross Stuff

Before speaking to groups of 8th graders in suburban rural Northern Virginia, we wondered: “Which stories from our travels would 8th graders be most interested in hearing?” We felt a bit out of touch.

So we polled our friends on Twitter and Facebook, and many of the responses boiled down to two things: the grossest things we’ve eaten and the weirdest animals we’ve encountered.

My friend Stephanie captured the sentiment well: “I think that big water rat thing will be a hit.”

Sure enough, the photo of the capybara above drew gasps, shrieks and hoots (one student actually knew what it was called!). The story of Dan eating bugs in Cambodia elicited lots of “eeews!” but the kids wanted more — in particular, to know about the bugs' texture, taste and crunchiness.

Under the theme of the similarity of kids around the world, this Cambodia video we produced made the same impression regarding the relationship between poverty and happiness on the Virginian kids as it did on the groups of Estonian students we spoke to two years before.

“I really liked their video. Happiness doesn't mean you have to be rich and just because you're poor doesn't mean you're unhappy.”

Eighth graders suddenly didn't seem so different from what I remembered after all.

Audio Slideshow: Kids Still Jumping Off “Killer”

Until the police showed up to shoo them away, kids leaped off a 60-foot ledge into a gorge at Nay Aug Park in Scranton Pennsylvania – just as they did decades before, when Dan and his siblings were kids.

The following audio slideshow says it all. Please note that some loud music comes on after about 1:07 seconds. So, if you're at work you may want to use headphones.

Note: We do not advocate jumping off “Killer” or any 60+ foot ledge like it. We would not jump ourselves and we advise others to refrain from doing so. Some of the kids that jumped showed brush burns on their arms, legs, and backs — simply from entry into the water.

But, kids will be kids and not listen to the rest of us. And we will observe and tell the story like it is.

———-

Over the past several years, we've spent more time with kids in foreign countries than we have with American kids. Perhaps as a result, we can't turn off our “traveler's eye” during our visits to the U.S. — and we find ourselves collecting memories and vignettes to weave into a broader thread.

As we do, it’s refreshing to know that even amidst life's growing complexity, evidence of a refreshing simplicity still remains.

The post Gross Eats, Fearless Leaps and Lemonade Stands: Kids Being Kids [Audio Slideshow] appeared first on Uncornered Market.

Think a press pass to the 2009 Presidential Inauguration meant that crowds parted at security gates like the Red Sea did for Moses?

Think again.

And who said my personal inauguration movie would star the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, a man with one tooth, and the Obamas and Bidens walking down Pennsylvania Avenue just thirty feet away?

The Misdirection

When I arrived at the entry point for my press pass (12th and E Streets) just before 8 AM, absolutely nothing was marked. Some people held tickets, others held press passes, the majority held nothing but hope. Practically speaking, we were all in the same boat.

After clearing security with some similarly confused Associated Press (AP) reporters from Spain, I arrived on the north side of Pennsylvania Avenue. Unfortunately, my pass was for the south side.

Our press materials indicated a crossover point right there. I was headed across the street and the Spaniards were headed to the National Mall. We queried a group of security men in fatigues.

Men in fatigues at 12th Street, “Sorry. You cannot cross here. Try 14th Street.”
Men in fatigues at 14th Street, “Sorry. You cannot cross here. Try 12th Street.”

Getting the idea here?

The Big Loop

Before going any further, a map of Washington, DC with all the confused twists and turns of my eight mile route through the city (thanks to my GPS tracking device) might be illustrative.

All I wanted to do was cross the street. I might as well have had a pass to the moon.

“You’re gonna’ have to go to the top of the parade route,” the security officer delivered with conviction. So much conviction, I’m certain he didn’t even look me in the eye.

“Where’s that?”

“Pennsylvania and 18th.”

I was at Pennsylvania and 12th. That’s only about six blocks. The only problem: Washington, DC was barricaded like it was under siege.

Two miles later, I arrived at the edge of the Ellipse just in time to witness the mid-winter fringe festival. One episode featured the Christian Right vs. the Gay Goths. Think “Celebrity Death Match” inaugural style. Megaphones in hand, they debated the pros and cons of sodomy.

Ah, the grand American tradition of dissenting views.

I continued to a fairly peaceful and surprisingly uncrowded Washington Monument.

“How do I get to the south side of the parade route from here?” I asked anyone with a badge. This included Boy Scout volunteers, more men in fatigues, even trash collectors.

Everyone was kind, but empty hands and shoulder shrugs ruled the day. One of the inauguration volunteers suggested that I go to the information booth because, “They might have information there.”

Kafka was smiling.

I turned around, headed back and watched my own personal film reel rewind: past the porta-potties lined up under the Washington Monument, past the volunteers, past the men debating the pros and cons of sodomy. The streets fogged with the masses headed to The Mall for the swearing-in ceremony. And I was going against the grain.

The Mob

It was about 10:30 AM when I returned to the 12th Street security checkpoint. (In case you’ve been following the map above, my pace had been rather brisk). There were four hours until the parade was scheduled to begin. The only problem: there were approximately 120,000 more people at this checkpoint than there had been two hours ago.

“Maybe I can make myself very small,” I wondered in a moment of delirium.

I made my way to the side of the mob. You know when you’re in a traffic jam and that guy comes up the shoulder? That was me.

Fortunately, there was another lost soul in the crowd with a press pass – a reporter from ABC News 7 Chicago. I’d like to think that we combined forces. In truth, he had a plan and I was simply hoping to ride his network coattails.

“I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing this for the people who couldn’t be here,” he appealed to the crowds to let him through so that he could cover the event for his home station.

“There’s a guy from ABC over here. Let him through.” Someone yelled.

“Hey, Anderson Cooper’s back here! He needs to get by!”

A few people budged, most people just laughed. We weren’t going anywhere.

One man, facing the reality that he might not clear security to see the beginning of the parade, summarized it best: “What’s important is that we’re here.”

As I melted into the crowd, my feet lifted off the ground. I was despondent and considered giving up and going home.

“400 people per hour,” one of the security guards said, referring to how quickly people were clearing the four metal detectors in front of us. I estimated that my body sat in the squished mass of humanity at about slot #2500. Time and math did not appear in my favor.

Fortunately, the people around me added humor and humanity. The couple behind me spoke French; they were probably from somewhere in Francophone Africa. They still held out hope that they would be able to see the swearing-in ceremony. Another man behind them smiled with a grand total of one tooth. His girlfriend provided comic relief by harassing everyone in the crowd.

Ninety minutes later, I was miraculously sucked into a current that dumped me on the other side of the gate. Chance separated me from the crowds behind. I then made it through the metal detectors – for the second time that day – and stood just a glance from the parade route.

I felt like a freed prisoner. I shook. The sun shone. I bent over and kissed the ground.

Cue the music from Shawshank Redemption.

The Freeze

Police lined Pennsylvania Avenue in picket fence formation. On my left, a division of Philadelphia police stood tough. They rarely smiled. On my right, the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department. They stood tough, too, but they peppered in a few smiles and conversations as they surveyed the crowd.

“So who are you shooting for?” one of the guys asked as we all shuffled our feet to stave off hypothermia.

“I’m a freelancer, but I’m taking photos for the Peace Corps. My wife is marching with them in the parade.”

“Oh, that’s great!”

Then a pause. “What’s Peace Corps?”

The Cue

Just before the Obamas and Bidens arrived, one of the LA County officers looked at me and the photographer to my left. “Pay attention,” he suggested with a nod.

Something was up. I wasn’t certain what, but his body language indicated something unusual. The other photographer interpreted the message as an indication that the Obamas would be walking down Pennsylvania Avenue and possibly even shaking hands in the crowd.

So I asked him, “If Obama came over and started shaking hands, would you go for the photo or for the handshake?”

“The photo, of course,” he answered without skipping a beat. “That photo will last a lot longer than the handshake.”

I thought for a moment, “I’d go for the handshake.”

The Pennsylvania Avenue Walk

To see the President, Vice President and their families take a stroll in the frigid DC winter – just thirty feet away – is something I’ll never forget.

I found their decision to walk both courageous and hugely symbolic. The crowd behind me went insane at the first sight of the new president. The cheers, tears and screams recalled The Beatles' appearance on the Ed Sullivan show.

Just when I thought the excitement was over, Joe Biden walked over to the crowd, crouched down, and motioned like a high school football player might after scoring a touchdown.

“The Scranton shuffle” is the only way to describe it.

The Parade

After the Obamas and Bidens passed, the crowds virtually disappeared. It was an understandable response. The parade had begun late and temperatures continued to drop as evening quickly approached.

One woman next to me not only stayed but she cheered wildly for every group making its way down that unforgivingly cold parade route. The police puzzled at her excitement, but to me her spirit defined the day.

As the Peace Corps made their way closer, I could see their colorful flags over the tops of the heads of the Philadelphia police. “My wife is marching with the Peace Corps!” I yelled – to the cheering woman, to the police, to just about anyone who would listen.

As the Peace Corps contingent passed, the woman cheered even louder. I shouted Audrey’s name; she looked back and waved. Some of the LA County police turned around with their thumbs up.

“Did you get the shot?” One asked.

I looked down at my Nikon LCD screen. Audrey was a blur.

“I don’t think so. There’ll be hell to pay,” I joked.

A Final Surprise

Disappointed with that photo, I chased the Peace Corps down the street. Through diversions and barricades, I caught up with the end of the group, but not with Audrey, who was in front. I hit my last security gate of the day.

I turned around to enjoy a bit more of the parade, but was drained. It hit me how little I had eaten that day – a Vitamin C drink and a banana in the morning. I fumbled with what to do next.

I heard a voice behind me; it barely registered, “Dan! Dan!”

The calls became louder and more persistent.

I turned around to see a friend whom we had first met while traveling through Turkmenistan in 2007. He had come all the way from Wisconsin for inauguration weekend.

After my initial shock, I got his story and we caught up without skipping a beat. His energy captured the moment: “This has been an absolutely amazing day…I’m so happy, I’m on a high.”

So was I.

2009 Presidential Inauguration Photos

The post The Inauguration, He Said: Of Mobs and Men appeared first on Uncornered Market.