Once again my day wasn’t the most thrilling as I was working. Still, I had to eat something so took a break and ventured into the heat. It was taco time.

For this round, a local had recommended a place not too far from me that had good BBQ tacos and made their own beer, Chirundo de Humo. Sold. The restaurant had literally just opened when I got there so I was able to take the large table which was the only one in total shade.

I was quite surprised to see a German Dunkel as an option for the beers so had to try that. Ahhh I had forgotten how effin good an ice cold beer is on a hot day. It was a great version of that German classic.

There were 4 different tacos to choose from which came as a pair of 3 but wanting to try multiple types, I asked if I could have one of each – choosing the brisket, the pulled pork and of course, the barbacoa.

The brisket had a surprising amount of lime on it which actually worked with the rich meat and the quesillo. The pork was my least favorite of the three but still quite good. The barbacoa had been crisped like a birria taco but with the consomé. It had a bit of a kick too but tolerable. A great lunch.

I had previously briefly chatted with a local woman who was a tax lawyer for the state and had asked if she could practice her English with me. I said sure and then arranged to meet her at a mezcal bar I had wanted to check out. But first, dinner.

I had read about a place close to the bar that had an extensive vegan menu. Having had a lot of carne until now, that sounded like a good idea. I was to meet up at 8pm so wasn’t surprised when I was the lone patron at Le Campane.

While it wasn’t a pure vegan spot, I decided to pick a couple of this dishes. First up was elote with grilled mushrooms and cherry tomatoes in an almond cream sauce. This was a great starter with earthy mushrooms nicely balanced with the roasted corn.

I was also intrigued by the description of the Berlin. I’m not a huge fan of vegan sausages but their version sounded very interesting. Along with the chorizo was a large helping of roasted Hen of the Woods mushrooms and some really good roasted potatoes with thyme and smoked paprika. This was an outstanding dish. The chorizo was easily the best non meat sausage I had ever had and would never have guessed it was one.

I made my way across the street to the Sobrio Mezcal Speakeasy. My companion was running late so I staked out the lone small table in the cozy venue and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, she showed up about 45 mins late. Having already chatted with the server, I was ready to try a different Mexican liquor, sotol, which originated from Chihuahua and is a different plant used. I opted for the Sotol Negroni and she ordered a beer.

We spent the next half hour or so swapping between English and Spanish as I explained things like would vs. should. She had downed her beer quickly and ordered another one. I was still enjoying my Negroni so we continued to chat about her background and family.

She downed the second beer pretty quickly and after previously telling me she didn’t like sotol, ordered the same drink as mine. After an initial bad reaction, she gulped it down. I was still finishing my first (and now definitely my last.)

It started to go downhill from there. After a couple of stray comments that had my Spidey sense going off, the combo of Devil water and beer apparently started to take effect. At the bar, a hip looking gay couple was chatting with the server. She looked over at me and said “why are THEY here?”with disgust. Ay caramaba.

I decided to ignore it, and she then looked at me quizzically “tu eres maricon?” I just stared at her and said no. She then said “oh you vote for Biden then.” Great. She launched into a long diatribe about the “ungrateful” Venezuelans and how smart Trump was to go after them, explaining her ex lived in a Texas border town which was “infested with them.”

She ordered a third beer as I said hey you know you were supposed to pay for that genius wall of his. I no longer cared at this point as she continued from the MAGA songbook. I stood up and walked up to the server who had clearly overheard at least some of it and told her to charge my drink and the first beer with the rest on her. As I was paying, one of the gay guys patted me on my shoulder and said “gracias.”

I told her I got her first beer and the rest were on her as I bolted, immediately blocking her from WhatsApp. What a truly awful person who I’m sure enjoys stringing along gullible tourists. Not this hombre. I basically ran up the street back to my place, eager to leave that unpleasantness behind. Oh well, at least I got a good story for the blog.

After the whirlwind that was evidenced in my last post, things downshifted a bit as I had to work during the day. After somewhat regretting that decision, I eventually powered through, helped by the fact my place was attached to a good seafood restaurant. Getting some delicious shrimp tacos delivered directly to my door didn’t hurt either.

After finishing work and a much needed siesta, I was off again. This time I wanted to try some different regional cuisine and had read Terazzo Istmo had one of the nicest terraces in tow and also great food from that area. The weather had once again mercifully cooled down and as I ascended the stairs to the restaurant, I was greeted with a nice breeze.

The echoes from the honking horns were neutralized by the calm, tranquil atmosphere of the restaurant. This was made even more evident once I started sipping on my delicious Mezcal Mule cocktail.

Continuing my quest to try at least 2 dishes per dinner, I asked my server what a good Itsmo starter would be and he recommended the Melina – which was basically a smoked fish pate. Sold.

Consisting on fish first smoked and then grounded into basically a powder via a mortar and pestle, it was a nice way to start the meal. More of a powder than a paste per se, it had a nice gentle heat that made it quite different than a typical smoked fish dip.

I hadn’t had the Oaxacan staple tlyuda (basically a giant tostada) yet so I was intrigued what the Itsmo version would be like. As it turned out, a lot different as this rendition cut it in half and then rolled up like a burrito.

This one was a mixture of fresh herbs, steak, chorizo and of course quesillo. It wasn’t, however, soft like a burrito but still had a crispy texture. Very different and very delicious.

I had noticed that the couple sitting next to me had become just one person for quite sometime. Recognizing he was clearly a gringo, I asked what had happened to his companion and he explained that they had flown in from Mexico City yesterday. Unfortunately, it appeared something else had tagged along and his boyfriend was down for the count.

We chatted a bit, and he noted he was wanting to check out a bar that had also been recommended to me, Sabina Sabe so we decided to head over as it was close by. Unfortunately, Google Maps had lied to us and it was closed.

There was another bar, Selva, that was also on both of our lists so walked a few blocks further and ascended the stairs to a jungle themed (selva = jungle) hideaway. Known for its inventive mezcal cocktails, I asked for a smoky but not sweet version. Our server immediately steered me to his favorite – mezcal with cingar (a smoked artichoke liqueur) It was a bit heavy with the cingar, which added some bitterness but overall a very nice cocktail.

However, before I had taken a sip, the server (different than the one with whom I had placed the order) pointed my glass of water and suggested I have a sip of the side shot before the cocktail. Uh wha? He had disappeared before I had a chance to ask WTF was he talking about so I sat there with my cocktail, untouched. About 10 mins later my new friend agreed with me it must have been a mistake so I finally sipped away.

Having work the next day, I declined another but amusingly enough, the mysterious shot of mezcal finally arrived. By that point, it probably wasn’t wise to down the whole thing so I just took a couple of sips – not bad but not worth the agita I dealt with to get it.

It was closing time so we said our goodbyes. I gave him a couple more places I had been to so far and headed back up to my place for some rest. Tomorrow was going to be another relatively quiet day/night before the real food porn will begin. So fear not, dear readers there’s much more to come.

I’m usually not one to visit the same country in back to back trips but going from Cabo to Oaxaca is decidedly different. After my friend Ed had visited here for a wedding last year and almost convinced me to hop to a plane, it was definitely a place I wanted to visit muy pronto.

As readers of this blog know, last year I decided to take advantage of remote work by truly working remotely. Plus in this case, I’d have a holiday to get my bearings before working the rest of the week. So, having found both a decent deal on a non-stop flight and a really good AirBnB spot, off I went.

After a thankfully smooth flight, I soon arrived in the Centro of Oaxaca. Given it was 9:30pm on a Sunday, my options for food were a bit limited but fortunately, the highly rated El Destilado’s more casual upstairs (aka el techo) was open.

Known for their cocktails, I opted for a mezcal drink that intrigued me – Negroni de Cantora – which had mezcal, Cinzanno rosso and of course, Campari, except in this case the ingredients had been mixed together in a clay pot and then set aside in a dark room for 1335 days to mimic a solera method of aging rum. A nice start.

The menu, while short, had a few dishes that looked good but I was instantly drawn to the Open Grilled Vegetables of the House – broccoli, broccolini, smoked pickled carrots, nori, onions in a guajillo and another local Oaxacan pepper sauce. The vegetables were perfectly cooked and the sauce was rich and just enough heat. They eventually gave me a basket of blue corn chips to dip, which was a great choice.

Next up I choice the tamal with pork rib, onions and herbs with both a pickled red cabbage puree and a local smoked pepper sauce. The tamal was full of flavor and moist with the acidic puree cutting through the richness nicely. Wary of potential garlic issues in the pepper sauce I only had a quick pour of it, which was enough.

Knowing how hot the weather would be during the day, I decided to take advantage of the now perfect weather to wander a bit around my new ‘hood for the week.

After a fitful night of sleep due to never getting the room temp quite right, it was time for lunch so I headed over to a highly recommended sandwich/bakery. Alas, there was a line down the block and in this intense heat, that was a non-starter. Fortunately, the next block over was what appeared to be a pop up inside a bar which was selling quesillo (what Oaxacans call their famous local white cheese) sandwiches. Simple but cheap and delicious.

The heat was becoming very oppressive so the museum of pre Hispanic art sounded good to me. Rufino Tamayo took over 20 years to curate this truly impressive collection of mostly ceremonial art, some dating back over 3000 years, and then gave it all to the museum in his hometown.

Two of my favorites.

Each room was dedicated to a specific region of Mexico, color coordinated.

There was also a very pretty courtyard filled with votive statues.

The heat was now pushing 95 and was sapping me of my remaining energy so I decided to cool off back at mi casa. This turned out to be fortuitous as about an hour later a massive isolated thunderstorm ripped through, knocking out power for a bit.

After a quick siesta and thankfully cooler weather, I walked a few blocks to my next destination – El Mezcalado – which was an appointment only mezcal tasting room. Focused on almost exclusively Oaxacan mezcals from tiny producers, I was given an option of 3-5 tastes. I decided to split the difference with 4.

My host explained how different species of agave (there are over 20 of them), the cultivation and distillation styles – from copper boilers to clay pots – affect the end mezcal. He gave me 2 that had been distilled only once, which were cleaner and not really smoky like a traditional mezcal and 2 that were smoky being twice distilled and cultivated via more ancient methods. Of course, the one I liked the most was the most expensive but at least I coaxed a for the road second shot of it.

Before I left, I asked my host where he goes on his day off and he immediately replied with La Popular, which was pretty nearby. It was a small corner restaurant that featured classic Oaxacan dishes in a more casual setting than some of the other places I’d be visiting later in the trip.

First up was a truly ancient dish called Hongos de Oaxaquena – grilled mushrooms with melted quesillo and a tapenade of champulines (ground grasshoppers) The latter came as a surprise as there wasn’t the expected crunch but my server told me they use a mortar and pestle to turn it into a paste. A very interesting and tasty dish.

I decided to be a bit more traditional for my next course – tostada of braised pork leg and chícharones. This was very rich and very tasty. This was a massive tostada filled to the brim with puerco, puerco, puerco. Vegetarians look away!

Needing to walk off that meal, I headed down the street to the main cathedral which was teeming with people. It turned out there was a massive teacher sit-in to protest their lack of support, which had now lasted 15 days. The flood lights being used washed out my pictures so y’all will just have a visualize in your mind’s eye.

I walked back up the small hill to my place, tried and ready to get some much needed sleep. Tomorrow was going to be even hotter than today so perhaps not such a bad thing I have to work then.