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. ♠

Tulum

By the time we got settled into our hotel, the streets of Tulum were coming alive. 

We walked down Avenida Satélite through billows of fragrant smoke coming from vendors setting up their carts. For my first sample I bought one taco de barbacoa for 13 pesos. I squeezed a lime wedge and poured a line of habanero salsa. The small taco had a robust smoky flavor and was the perfect beginning to a night of sampling. 

Further down the street a lady served a homemade corn-on-the-cob. She smothered it in Mexican cream, mayo, cheese and other seasonings. It was a messy eat, but delicious. I had two people stop me and ask where I'd bought it. 

Street food in Tulum.

Tulum was a welcome change from the tourist-trap of Cancún. Yes, the beach in Tulum is increasing in tourism all the time, but the pueblo, located ten minutes inland, still retains an authentic Mexican flavor. 

I couldn't believe the chaos and noise when we walked around town. Police drove with their lights on. We constantly heard sirens in the distance. Music blared from the streets. 

We watched girls dance in traditional Mayan regalia, twirling sticks of fire as they spun around. While they danced, four boys kept a fast beat on the drums. 

Tulum reminded us a lot of Thailand. Worn down, kind of dirty, but full of life. Lovers, bicyclists and stray dogs all shared the sidewalk. 

Fire-dancing on the streets of Tulum.

We casually strolled the street, occasionally popping into shops. Most of these shops sold typical Yucatan souvenirs, including leather goods, Mayan effigies and ceramics. 

There were so many sirens and people on the road that I had to ask a shopkeeper what was going on. He said that tomorrow (the 12th of December) was the Day of the Virgin. During the preceding days people make pilgrimages from one town to the next to honor the Virgin. 

All evening we saw different processions of families slowly moving along the main road, some in cars with lights and sirens, and others walking in front or behind. Some cars had a statue of the Virgin Mary on top, while others were covered in balloons. These individual, but noisy processions unfolded all over town and well into the night. 

As we came to the town square we found it decorated with a tall Christmas tree and nativity. This was the only sign of Christmas during our entire visit. 

Along the adjacent street were more street vendors. Once again, I couldn't resist. I had to buy another taco, this time tripe. We also tried a marquesita, a typical Yucatan dessert made of a crispy crepe and filled with cheese or sweets. 

What a wonderful evening for our first day in Tulum! I didn't know what to expect, but it far surpassed anything I had conceived in my mind. 

Cancha Maya, a city park in Tulum.

We expected the same thing during our second evening. Instead, we got the normal Tulum. 

Don't get me wrong. It was still alive and vibrant, but no more processions, no constant blaring of sirens, not as much noise. The celebrations from the Day of the Virgin had come and gone. 

Police still drove up and down the streets with their lights on (that must be a thing here). Street vendors still sold their food, but there weren't as many as the night before. 

The streets still filled with people, a steady blend of pure-bred Mexicans with Mayan faces, and frequent tourists, most of them young and hippie-like. 

Block after block was lined with souvenir shops selling all sorts of Mayan handicrafts such as masks, calendars, bags, purses and such. One shopkeeper showed me the obsidian knives that were replicas of those the Mayans used to kill their sacrificial victims before tossing their corpses into a cenote. 

Tulum was a pleasant surprise. 

Road decorations.

Tulum the town (or pueblo) shouldn't get confused with Tulum the archeological site, or Tulum the beach (or hotel zone). All are within ten minutes of each other and create a triangle when pinned on a map. I chose to stay in Tulum the pueblo because it would be cheaper and I also felt it would be a more authentic Mexican experience. 

Until a few decades ago, Tulum was a sleepy village just two hours south of Cancún. The nearby beaches and their proximity to impressive Mayan ruins have since put it on the map. The village has transformed into a bustling little town, bringing in Mexicans and expats alike. 

I was excited for our trip to the Cancún area, especially to see the world-renowned beaches—but I also wanted to experience a truer Mexico and I bet on Tulum to provide me that. 

Mural on side-street.

We had seen Tulum come alive at night, but what was it like during the day? Thus far we had spent all our days outside of the town on various excursions. It was now time to find out. 

I began a walking tour on a small side-street across from our hotel and strolled west, eventually marking a large circuit of the town. I avoided the main street where we had visited many times at night. At one point I got lost, but eventually regained my bearings. 

Mural across from Cancha Maya.

Most of the streets were pretty empty, with an occasional passerby. Bags of trash sat outside the doorways. Graffiti adorned cement walls. Through iron gates I could see living spaces, littered with personal belongings and sometimes with billows of smoke from a backyard barbeque. 

From time to time I would pass a tiny store on the bottom level of a building. Some people converted the front of their homes into miniature restaurants, selling tacos or tortas. 

Cemetery of Tulum.

On the opposite side of Tulum from our hotel is the city cemetery. I usually try to visit different cemeteries to get a feel of how they bury their dead around the world. I was shocked at what I saw. 

The graveyard of Tulum was a chaotic array of tombs, crosses, cinder blocks and trash. Many of the graves looked like tiny houses, being rectangular in shape with sloping roofs. Most of the death dates were recent, although none of the tombs looked new, making me wonder if they were reused. 

A walkway went through part of the cemetery, but to get to most of the graves I had to squeeze through. There seems to be no pattern to the layout. Just a patchwork of tombs crammed together. 

But what caught my attention was the amount of trash scattered about. It was as if no one was maintaining the final resting spot of their loved ones. I know that most of the municipal cemeteries in the United States are very clean and well-maintained. This was different. 

Typical shack on outskirts of Tulum.

Dog wandering on rooftop.

The further away from the city center, the more humble the living quarters. Many could merely be described as shacks. Tiny homes built with whatever materials were at hand. Roofs were sometimes thatched, or covered in corrugated sheet metal, held down with tires. Roads became dirt and dogs roamed freely everywhere, including sometimes on rooftops. 

The people here had a distinct look to them. They didn't look like the type of Mexicans just south of Yuma. They were darker-skinned with more of a native look to them. I'm sure that Mayan blood runs thick. 

Eventually I found my way back to the main road where street vendors prepared their carts for an evening of cooking. I crossed Avenida Satélite to our hotel and found my wife safe and well. 

Another Tulum street.

One of my favorite activities every evening was to go out on our third-story balcony and watch the surroundings below. It was a nice place to relax. I had a view of the rooftops and could see into the courtyards. Across the street was a family selling tortillas from their home. Cars parked on the little side-street, but we could hear traffic from around the corner on the main road. Occasional honking. 

At 11 pm the gentle breeze was still warm. Fans blew from nearby air conditioners. Two girls and a boy rode past on their bikes. A dog barked. It seemed a perfect night. ♠

 

The view from our balcony.

 

Riviera Maya

El Templo del Viento.

There are two things I love to see when we travel: the ocean and ancient ruins. The Riviera Maya in Mexico has them both. 

El Templo del Viento, or Temple of the Wind, is an iconic Mayan fortress that is part of a larger archeological complex in Tulum. It is perched on a clifftop above the turquoise-blue Caribbean Sea. After years of dreaming, it was finally our turn visit this surreal destination. 

The route to this pre-Columbian walled city can only be obtained by walking. After running a gauntlet of aggressive solicitors trying to sell us to use “their” parking lot, we eased into a stall and paid 100 pesos. 

The paved pedestrian path was lined with a handful of hawkers, but mostly beautiful palm trees. We chose to walk, but some rented bicycles and whizzed past us. 

A colony of coatis.

Near the entrance of the site we found a colony of coatis loitering about, rummaging for any food they could find. This is an animal I had never seen before. It seems to be a cross between a raccoon and a monkey, with a long black-ringed tail that points straight to the sky. I'm sure they were well-fed from all the tourists that gawk at them day after day. 

The ruins at Tulum are from the Mayan culture. It was one of the last cities built before the entrance of the Europeans, and it is surmised that it was inhabited for at least 70 years after the Spanish began occupying Mexico. 

Temple of the Frescoes.

An iguana hanging out on the ruins.

We entered the gate of the walled city and the first thing to catch our attention were all the iguanas. They were everywhere! They crawled on the ruins of the ancient buildings and in the grass that grew around them. Their gray-scaled skin camouflaged well with the crumbling walls. The giant lizards tended to steal the show from the 1,000-year old structures. 

Although the ancient city of Tulum isn't considered a major town by Mayan standards, it was still very impressive. The walled-village included several palaces, houses, towers, temples and platforms. One such building is the famed castle, a pyramid-like structure in typical Mayan fashion. 

The characteristic that sets Tulum apart, however, is its proximity to the sea. 

El Castillo, overlooking the Caribbean Sea.

We finally made it to the edge of the cliff where the light-blue sea shimmered below. A sandy beach sat inside a small cove and thin white waves rolled in. Above the cove, atop a precipice of gray rocks, sat the Temple of the Wind, enjoying a majestic view and inhaling the scent of the sea that blew across its sacred walls. 

I must mention here that one must not confuse Tulum, the archeological site, with Tulum the modern city, which is a ten-minute drive inland. I will blog about the city of Tulum later. 

Iguanas everywhere!

The Riviera Maya is a 70-mile stretch along the eastern coast of Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula, beginning at Puerto Morelos and extending all the way south to Punta Allen. I will admit that our experience of the Riviera Maya was limited to the area around Tulum. 

Just south of the archeological site was Santa Fe Beach, which was the first place we dipped our toes in the sea. For December, the water wasn't too bad, but not as warm as the Andaman Sea in Thailand. I spent time wading in the water and diving into the waves while Jenelle sat on the sand and soaked up the sun.

Las Palmas Beach.

Supposedly, the entire coast in this area is open to the public. The problem is access. If you're thinking of popular beaches in California that come with a parking lot for 200 cars . . . forget it. Here, parking comes alongside a narrow road wherever you can find it. And if you park with your tire touching the pavement, you might get a ticket—at least that's what we were told by the Mexicans on the street conducting traffic. Once we squeezed into a narrow spot, they said they would “keep an eye on our car” . . . for 100 pesos! 

Our next evening we went a little further south to Las Palmas Beach. We made it just before dusk and had fun watching people. We quickly learned that we were the oldest and whitest people on the entire beach! Jenelle wandered to a small cove away from the crowds and found two large conch shells. 

Entrance to Santa Fe Beach.

Our goal was to make it to the beach at least once a day, and that we did. Our next visit brought us back to Playa de Santa Fe where we paid $45 each for a snorkeling tour. We put on life jackets, boarded a fishing boat and rode out to a reef that was a couple thousand feet off shore. Then we spent the next hour swimming with turtles, stingrays and schools of small fish. That was about right for me since that last time I went snorkeling I got sea-sick and had to sit out the last hour. 

One question I had before I came to Mexico was if the Caribbean Sea was always so blue? The answer (during our short week) was mostly yes. Especially if the sun was shining brightly. As it became close to sunset, the turquoise-blue transformed into a dark blue, with hints of green. 

Just another day's work.

We returned to the beach on our final night in Mexico, but this time to a different location further south called Playa Mirador. We found a thin strip of sand with a domed rock outcropping on the south side.

By the time we got there the sun was already low, but the air still very warm. A gentle breeze blew from the sea, sending a salty aroma overhead. 

The mood was very relaxing. A group of foreigners sat lazily on the sand and talked while one softly strummed a guitar. Others climbed the rock dome and then sat and watched the waves come in. Herons perched on a nearby rock. 

Two young brown-skinned brothers played in the shallow water, pushing each other and teasing. A mother washed her bare-naked toddler in the waves while the little girl cried and screamed. It brought a smile to my face. 

The sea was no longer turquoise-blue. It was too late in the day. Now it was a deep sapphire. 

Jenelle and I found a spot on the soft sand to lay down our towels. I was so tired that it felt good to rest on the towel and listen to waves come in and snippets of Spanish conversation. The breeze felt good.

Sunset over the Riviera Maya.

As the sun inched closer to the horizon behind us and the sparse clouds in the sky began to change color, the evening air continued to be comfortably warm. I opened my eyes and watched terns play on the water. 

Now that their deity had disappeared, many sun-worshipers picked up their towels and packed up, now walking to their cars. Not us. We were enjoying the evening too much to pack up just yet.

Jenelle and I sat on towels, watching the people and waves while making short conversation to each other. This would be our last time on the beach for a while. You see, we are desert-dwellers and an escapade like this doesn't come often. And . . . it just happened to be our 25th wedding anniversary, which only comes once! ♥