Mayonesa con limón

Since the tianguis (market) in the llano (plaza) down the street has moved (apparently it was damaging the paving), I was directed to a local market on Murgia and calzada República for my fresh produce needs. I bought some avocados* and tomatoes from a mustachioed guy who called me "güerita," and some mandarin oranges and bananas from a nice older woman who actually accepted my 100 peso bill to pay for 15 pesos worth of fruit, without any comment. I definitely felt slightly out of place, since I was the only non-mexican there. But it's closer and cheaper than the market on 20 de noviembre. And the "güerita" comment is meant in a friendly way.

After my trip, I decided that I really needed some mayonnaise in order to make tortas de quesillo (cheese sandwiches). Ordinarily I despise the stuff: the taste, the slimy texture, and the fact that it's over-used. A sandwich that squirts mayonnaise when you bite into it is probably one of the most revolting food items I can think of. And don't even mention potato or tuna salad to me. One of my former students, in an essay about what the world will be like in 100 years, wrote that mayonnaise would not exist in the world of the future. I gave him an A.

That said, I was willing to make an exception in this case. I had once unwittingly ordered a torta de quesillo that came with mayo, and discovered that it actually adds something to the sandwich as long as it's used in moderation. (Also I have to admit that esquites are really lacking something without mayo.) Anyway, I stopped at the Piticó to buy a very small jar of mayo and discovered that it all comes with limón. You literally cannot buy a bottle of plain mayo. Which is fine with me; it's much tastier this way.

I also purchased a stick of unsalted butter for my morning toast. Any guesses on the ingredients in a stick of "mantequilla pura de vaca sin sal"? Salt. Yes, salt. My unsalted butter has salt in it. Also, water. In fact, water is the second ingredient after milk fat.

*Aguacate (avocado) means testicle in Nahuatl.

Chapulines

I finally tried chapulines. They're a Oaxacan snack/treat made of toasted grasshoppers and sometimes spiced with chiles, garlic, lime and other things. They are meant to be purchased in the market, but you can find (touristy) restaurants that serve them in tacos and other regional dishes. I went to the market to find mine. After wandering around the 20 de noviembre market for 5 minutes, I finally found a little stand in a corner where a woman was selling a variety of chapulines stored in little baskets. She let me try several flavors and sizes, and when I had made my decision she scooped them into plastic bags with a little ceramic plate.

After snacking my fill, I took the leftover chapulines to class. Out of the 12 students I offered them to, only about 2/3 of them tried any, and this only after I exerted as much peer pressure as I felt was morally acceptable. Various reasons for refusal included: "I'm afraid the legs will get stuck in my teeth," and "What are they? Um...no thanks." Among those who tried them, the reaction was pretty neutral. General consensus held that the texture is not crunchy, but more slightly crispy, flaky and light. They taste like extremely salty sundried tomatoes, and there's no significant difference between the plain and chili flavors. Neither one is picante (spicy).

The main difference lies in the size of the chapulines. You can get small or medium. Small is kind of like popping little flakes into your mouth. With medium, however, it is very clear that you are eating an insect: legs, abdomen, wings and head are all visible. I have a difficult time eating the large ones because of this, so I tend to just squint, pop it in my mouth and chew it really quickly. But really the texture is about the same as the small ones.

My student J, who is very interested in culinary anthropology, says they come in varying quality. The good quality chapulines are rather moist and crisp, while the lower quality chapulines are dry, crunchy, and tend to stick in your throat. She loves them, and after class she made a special trip all the way to the 20 de noviembre market just to buy more. I liked them all right, but I can't say I'd buy them again, unless I were offering them to a visitor.

Pictures soon. I need to offload them from my camera.

Mole

A brief note on mole. According to the Moon guide, there are 7 kinds of mole in Oaxaca. So far I have tried 4: negro (black, chocolatey in a savory way), coloradito (kind of like Indian masala sauce with a tomato base and complex spices), amarillo (ground almonds, really more orange than yellow, also reminiscent of Indian spices), and verde (like tomatillo salsa). Coloradito is by far my favorite. It's brownish-red in color and has a much more complex flavor profile than negro, which is also good but tends to be more one-note.

You can buy mole in the grocery store in little bags and jars. In the bags, it's more of a paste, so I assume it's concentrated and you water it down with some sort of liquid. The jars look like a desperate, I-can't-cook-and-I-miss-mom's-cooking kind of thing, and only come in a few flavors. You can also buy mole in the markets, where it is kept in large jars and poured into plastic bags for individual sale. Restaurants with gift shops catering to tourists also sell high-quality mole in jars.

Quesadillas, variations thereof

There are two very popular kinds of cheese in Oaxaca: quesillo and requeso. Quesillo is like string cheese, and it comes in long wide tape-like strips wrapped into a tight ball. Find the end of the strip and peel it away, then peel off smaller strips. It melts really well and is sort of like a firmer, chewier, stringier and much saltier fresh mozzarella. Requeso has the texture of ricotta, but almost no taste. It takes on the flavor of whatever you mix into it (jalapeños, cilantro, etc.). One, or both, of these cheeses is in pretty much every dish here.

There are many, many local dishes with both indigenous and Spanish names: quesadillas, enfrijoladas, tlayudas, tostadas, memelas, etc. But basically everything is a variation on a quesadilla: tortilla (crunchy or soft), cheese, black bean sauce (a pureed sauce with no actual bean chunks in it, unlike black beans in the US), maybe some hot sauce (green or red), maybe some tomatoes or avocados or lettuce, and some kind of meat or pork lard. Assume you're going to have tortilla, bean sauce and cheese, and you've got a pretty good picture of what you just ordered.

El Pochote

El Pochote is two things: a cineclub (it shows free movies Tues-Sun at 6 and 8 pm, Sat matinee) and an organic market (Fri and Sat). Like Estudio Dharma, which is a block away, it's located in the Arquitos neighborhood. The door is hidden under an archway of the aqueduct.

Immediately when you enter, there are stalls selling green leafy vegetables like lettuce, swiss chard, bok choy, and radishes. Continuing to the left are a stall selling homemade goat cheese (chevre covered in pecans, herbed chevre, and chevre covered in ashes, which sounds nasty but is actually delicious) and gouda of 3 different ages); 2 mezcal stands that are very free with samples; an organic shade-grown coffee stand; a chocolate stand; and a dairy stand that sells quesillo, requesón (quesillo is like fresh mozzarella but you can peel it away in fat strips a little like string cheese. Requeso is usually crumbled into tiny tiny curds that look almost like mashed tofu, and is usually flavored with herbs and spices since it's really mild). Some stands are there each week; others are only there sometimes.

This first row of stalls is on a walkway sunken below the level of the rest of the courtyard. On the right, at about shoulder height, is the base of the main courtyard, and stands selling shallots, vanilla (3 different kinds of bean and they smell incredible!), and sometimes a man selling baskets woven from pine needles. Continuing up a ramp to the main level of the courtyard is a stall selling tostadas and sandwiches. You get to choose what you put on your tostada: beans, 3 kinds of requeso spiced with cilantro, chile de arbol, jalapeno, or plain; 3 choices of green leafy stir-fried veggies, hot sauce (or not), and tomatoes. The tostadas are delicious and cost about $15 pesos (slightly more than a dollar, since the exchange rate is about 13 pesos to the dollar now). The woman making the tostadas is very friendly and calls everyone "mi reina".

Next to the tostadas is a stand selling baked goods, including varieties of pan dulce, bread, brownies, cookies, long thin pizzas, and rolls. I bought 3 panes dulces to try (one is stuffed with almond paste, one with chocolate, and one swirled with a mixture of raisins, chocolate, quesillo, cinnamon, and a ton of other spices).

To the right of this stand is another selling some sort of drink made of amaranth and requeso. I haven't tried it yet. There's a large tree growing out of the courtyard center. In the southwest corner is a pond with reeds growing out of it (my blog title picture). There is also a woman selling organic coffee and cafes con leche. Sometimes there's a honey stand and a natural remedy stand.

Many of the people shopping at the market are ex-pat Brits and Americans. Several of the people selling vegetables are also ex-pat Americans. There are also usually tourists from all over the world. Most of the stand owners are very friendly and love to answer your questions. I plan on going every week. Today I took M with me after yoga, and she loved it so much we made plans to come back tomorrow and have tostadas for lunch again, and this time bring L with us.