Eating in the Yucatán

Cochinita Pibil wrapped in a traditional banana leaf.

The purpose of this post is not to claim that I am an expert, nor that I have delved deep into the cuisine of the Yucatán. Neither is true. It is a short list of dishes that I discovered during my week-long visit to the famed Mexican peninsula. 

I had no idea what I'd find here. We have friends who have visited here three times and said they ate fish tacos for every meal. As much as I love the fish tacos in Mexico, I didn't want that. I wanted to dig deep, if I could, and find out what the locals ate away from the tourist-infested areas. 

I learned that there are several dishes that have a long heritage on the peninsula. But also, with the influx of workers coming from other areas in Mexico, there are also foods that have their origins elsewhere. 

During our stay in Tulum, I loved all the street vendors selling tacos, tamales, elotes, and even hamburgers from their carts. I would buy a barbeque taco from one vendor, a tripe taco from another, and an espaldalilla from a third. I was in taco heaven! 

What follows is my list of food that I ate in the Yucatán. It is not exhaustive, and one requirement to make the list is that I had to get some sort of picture (which often didn't happen during our night ventures). 

Chilaquiles.

Chilaquiles. This was my first breakfast in Tulum. From my short experience it seemed as if several morning dishes consisted of a variation of huevos rancheros, with primary ingredients of tortillas, refried beans, eggs and salsa. That being said, chilaquiles was a very aesthetically-looking and tasty dish. My version consisted of two fried eggs, sliced red onions, and a green salsa on top of quartered tortillas, with refried beans on the side. 

Sopa de lima.

Sopa de Lima. Lime soup is a traditional dish from the Yucatán. It reminded me of their version of chicken noodle soup, without the noodles. In spite of the name, it does not have a strong flavor of lime.

Elotes.

Elotes. Apparently this corn-on-the-cob delicacy is served all over Mexico and even in Phoenix, Arizona where my daughter lives. The ones we ate, however, I think are considered elotes locos, or crazy corn. Every evening we passed a lady selling elotes from her cart a block away from our hotel. She lathered them up with Mexican cream, mayo, cheese and other seasonings. I asked her the name of it and she said it didn't have one. It was just a family recipe. 

Pork cooked "al pastor" on a spit grill.

Tacos al Pastor. I've eaten these at home, but never the “authentic” kind like you'll find in Mexico—made on a spit grill. The pork, seasoned with spices from the Middle East and America, is then shaved off the spit and served on a corn tortilla with cilantro and onions. The seasoned meat is based on Shawarma, a Lebanese dish brought by immigrants into Mexico during the first half of the last century. That was a fascinating connection I had never known before. The spit-grilled meat is like that which we used to see at Donner Kebab shops in Europe. 

Huarache con nopales.

Huarache con nopales. I had never heard of huaraches until I saw them for sale from a cart on a dark side-street. I ordered one with “nopales” or slices of fried cactus leaves. It tasted good, but reminded me of a cross between a taco and a pizza---refried beans instead of pizza sauce and lettuce instead of cheese. It was served in an oblong shape and eaten with hands. This dish comes from Mexico City.

Gringas.

Gringas. These are basically quesadillas with meat thrown in. I normally wouldn't mention them, but I found the origin comical. It is named after two young American women in 1969 who insisted that their restaurant they ate at in Mexico City make their tacos with flour tortillas instead of corn. After accommodating the young ladies, others follow suit and asked for tortillas “like those of the gringas.” The term gringo, or gringa (feminine) is used in Spanish to denote a foreigner. It's connotation tends to be pejorative. 

Torta Milanesa.

Torta Milanesa. The Milanesa I was familiar with was an Argentine food that came via Italian immigrants. It was a very thin slice of tasty meat. Our slice of Milanesa may have been thin at one time, but by the time it came to us it was chopped into tiny pieces and diluted with lots of lettuce, tomatoes and mayo. Then it was thrown inside a thick bun. It wasn't bad, but a bit of a disappointment. 

Poc chuc.

Poc chuc. This is a traditional Mayan dish that involves grilling a citrus-marinated pork fillet over burning charcoal. The marinate is combined with achiote peppers, which is used to cover a salty taste, which traditionally was used to preserve the meat. We ate this on the upper level of a lonely restaurant in Coba. It was served with rice, refried black beans, slices of avocado, and a very hot habanero sauce. 

Huevos Motuleños.

Huevos Motuleños. This breakfast dish originated on the Yucatán Peninsula in the town of Motul, just 187 miles west of Cancún. Like many of the other Mexican breakfast dishes we encountered, it was served on crispy corn tortillas with a spread of refried beans and sunny-side up eggs. It was also garnished with ham, peas and slices of red onion. Fried plantains were served on the side. 

Cochinita Pibil.

Cochinita pibil. Of all the dishes listed above, this is the one that I ate twice. The first is featured as my cover photo and was served in the traditional banana leaf. As this is a true dish of the Yucatán, I knew before I came that I would be seeking it out. I wasn't sure what to expect, but had envisioned in my mind something similar to a suckling pig (cochinillo asado) that I had eaten 20 years earlier in Segovia, Spain. 

When it came I quickly learned that the two looked nothing alike. (The suckling pig was served with the ears and snout still attached.) I don't even know if what I was served in Mexico was two weeks old or two years, but it tasted good. 

The second time I ordered it was during my last full day in Tulum. It was at a restaurant called Cocina Yucateca, which had been closed during our entire stay, but had now reopened. I noticed that there were only six items on the menu, which I felt was a good thing. It appeared to be a family-run business. On the menu it was simply listed as “cochinita.” 

Unlike the first time, it came without the banana leaf. The slow-cooked pork swam in an orange broth of juices and other flavors. On the side was a serving of white rice and red-pickled onions. I forked a scoop of the tender meat onto a corn tortilla, then topped it with a pickled onion. I was in heaven! The sweetness, the smokiness, the tenderness—all combined into one savory bite! 

This was a great way to end our trip. ♠