World's Best Eggs

When I was a little girl I fell madly in love with boiled eggs. In those early days I think it was actually more about playing with the funky egg cups and smashing the empty egg shells with the back of my spoon than it was about the eggs, but eventually my love evolved to encompass poached eggs, eggs benedict, eggs florentine, and once I left home and started to travel it became all about the Italian fritatta, the Spanish omelette, and then one day a guitar playing chum named Lionel dragged me to breakfast at some British friends of his in a grotty little apartment in Madrid. We were all starving students and they apologized for what they had to piece together. I was handed a plate that contained a fried egg, a heap of acelgas (boiled greens), a spoonful of fresh tomato sauce, refried black beans, and a fried banana. To me it was a strange looking breakfast, but, as I quietly blended each of those flavours together in my mouth, I felt my concept of breakfast and eggs shaken up forever. Many times thereafter I dreamt of the flavours from that strange breakfast.

Eight years later, I found my way to Mexico where my tastebuds learned how to really appreciate an egg. Huevos rancheros, a la mexicana, chilaquiles, en salsa verde, they're all delicious, but the King of all egg dishes has to be: huevos motuleños.



A corn tortilla smeared in refried black beans, topped with a fried egg and fresh tomato salsa. This is then topped with another bean-slathered corn tortilla and a fried egg with more tomato salsa. This is sprinkled with chopped ham, peas, cheese and, last but not least, fried plantain is placed on the side. I couldn't believe my eyes or tastebuds when my dream breakfast from Madrid 8 years prior, appeared at my table only this time with a whole lot more style.

I've since discovered that this fusion of Mayan and Lebanese cuisine was invented especially for Governor Felipe Carillo Puerto at a Motul restaurant owned by a Lebanese man named Jorge Siqueff. Today his family still owns a restaurant in Merida called Siqueff on Calle 60 between Calle 35 and Calle 37. The setting is peaceful and the eggs are phenomenal.

Central de Abastos

For a nearly Pre-Colombian shopping experience one must visit the Central de Abastos. Okay, I exaggerate a teensy bit, but for such a big city, this market is very indigenous and filled with an infinity of exotic scenes and strange foodstuffs to gawk at. This market is a looooog way from your local grocery store or farmer's market. Go well rested, with an empty belly, and a good chunk of time to meander the maze of corridors that make up this massive market.

Itanoní

A modest presentation of the real McCoy.

Shamefully criollo (original) corn is exceeding difficult to find on your table when dining out in Mexico. Restaurants mostly serve up tortillas made with Maseca corn flour which comes from American GMO corn that floods Mexican markets, but not at Itanoni! Criollo corn from small scale local producers is the main event at this humble, but artfully crafted little eatery. The corn is ground into dough which is shaped into a variety of antojitos which are prepared on a comal while you watch. Curious palates come here to learn to appreciate the subtlties of the varieties of this ancient miracle of agriculture which took place in Mexico over 9000 years ago.

Hamburger Heaven

Do you see this man?

He makes the BEST hamburger in Mexico and, coming from a sworn hamburger hater - that is no small statement. This symphony of hamburger takes place most nights on the Tlaxiaco square starting about 6:30pm. First the patty goes down on the plancha, and then a flurry of hands and spatulas and knives artfully move the buns, the pineapple, the bacon, and the ham with two cheeses. The flurry continues as avocado, tomatoes, chile, onions, ketchup, mustard, and mayonese annoint the dream burger, and eventually the whole show gives birth to the most sinfully delicious street meat. Who wouldda thunk all those elegant years ago that "Little Paris" would go on to earn the status of hamburger heaven...

God Bless Grapefruit

We have delved further into the question of sheep (oveja) and lamb (borrego) and it turns out that in Mexico they do indeed say borrego for both. In Spain they don't and who the heck knows what they do in all the many other Spanish speaking circles.

This brings up so many other confusing questions, but for now I'm inclined to focus on citrus: why are limones and limas totally different things in Spain than they are in Mexico? I would love to know who is getting it backwards and why.


In Spain, a limon is a lemon and a lima is a lime. In Mexico, a limon is a lime while a lima is some other citrus fruit altogether and I have yet to see a lemon here. If you're in the Yucatecan part of Mexico, then (to add to the whole citrus mix up) a sweet orange is very commonly called a china (a mayan word) and less commonly a naranja (Spanish) naranja agria, however, is a sour orange used to marinate some delicious Yucatecan meat dishes. The good news for me is that, so far, a grapefruit is a grapefruit is a grapefruit – toronja. I'm partial to this Spanish word as it always has and always will make me think of Toronto which is where I spent a good chunk of my happy and less confused young adult life . I'm thankful that the toronja hasn't entered the great citrus debate. Bless you grapefruit for being so straightforward and delicious.

Feeding Basil's Pet

Basil bikes with a pet. It lives in a jar and feeds on milk.

This means that the quest is on for finding milk everywhere we go. We are always either finding milk or finding how to store milk and timing feedings just so. It really doesn't affect me much other than being dragged into a variety of shops looking for milk and occasionally helping out by washing out the milk glass. However, I have witnessed and enjoyed some interesting milk related interactions; the most recent one being here in Oaxaca.

We walk into a fancy organic food shop. Basil spies dairy products in the fridge. He sees a knowledgeable looking fellow standing nearby who seems related to the store. In flawless Spanish he asks if they have sheep's milk. Stunned, the man says tells him that nobody has this kind of milk in Mexico and that such animals are only used for meat and wool here. Basil informs the man that it is found in large quantities all over Greece. Quite surprised the man says that their animals give so little milk that only the farmer could enjoy such a thing. He goes on to explain that the udders are so tiny that they are very difficult to milk. I can't help but giggle when he starts to make very tiny yet defeated milking gestures. We all shrug and Basil and I head off to breakfast.

Basil continues to ruminate this conversation over in his mind and, hung up on the thought of tiny unproductive sheep udders, he eventually looks up his word for sheep: borrego. He is humbled to learn that his flawless Spanish can still get him into trouble. He confesses to me that he learned that he was in fact asking for lamb's milk! After a good snorty laugh we then wonder what the heck the organic food guy was on about? Can you really milk a lamb? Or was he just running with Basil's false claims?

Camarones a la Diabla

One of Basil's favourite and much anticipated dishes comes from the Manzanillo market. Above is a photo of the ultimate shrimp feast after a hot and meandering bike ride into Manzanillo's bustling centre past her lengthy resort strip and impressive container-filled cargo port. In spite of being Mexico's largest port, Manzanillo ranks in the top 5 for cleanest beaches in the country. It is also the sailfish capital of the world, but we come for the swimming and the shrimp.

Barra - ahhhh...

As you make your way south along highway 200 you crest a hill and cross a series of speed bumps to find yourself in the town named for Mexico's revolutionary great, Emiliano Zapata. This region is particularly loyal to it's revolutionary figures as nestled up along side Emiliano is a town named for his compadre to the north, Francisco "Pancho" Villa. It is befitting that we stop here for breakfast the day before Mexico's "Dia de la Revolucion" or Revolution Day.

The town of Emiliano Zapata has a little known secret...there is lady who makes some of the best hand-made tortillas on the coast. The family's grandson is playing in the secret which lies behind our table in a heap on the floor. Behind that heap sits a pile of empty cobs that once held that heap and somewhere way behind that grows the family tended milpa or corn field that is the source of it all.



Coconuts and crocodiles's make up our next stop before our long lingering climb and descent into our much awaited rest day in Barra de Navidad.

Richard Parker Lives Here

What goes up, must come down and after climbing up to the refreshing climes of El Tuito a lengthy descent is exactly what awaits us the next morning. Dripping green forest gradually recedes giving way to gentler and drier terrain as we slide in early to our destination.

Have you ever read The Life of Pi? If you have, then please see the title of this blog entry. If you haven't, you should it is a delightful book, but I'm afraid I just ruined the end. Hopefully you're like me, and you will forget that you ever read this post long before you pick up the book.

So, now that you have re-read the title of this post, you must be wondering where is "here"? Why Tomatlan, of course! And, while I'm not certain that the creature mentioned in the post title lives in the actual house shown above, I am certain that he lives in the Tomatlan area, and what a lovely area it is to live in. We are the farthest inland that this tour takes us, but we are also well off the beaten track. It is not uncommon to see men riding through town on horseback or to find a donkey tied up outside a shop. These are not for tourist show they are hard working beasts.

When the first Nahuatl groups arrived to this area in 1324 AD they found an abundance of tomatoes and so named the area "Tomatlan - the place of tomatoes". These early tomato-eaters had no idea how these "plump things with navels" would eventually take European cuisine by storm when the Spanish would introduce it to European markets in 1540. Initially Europeans viewed the tomato with great suspicion, many believing it to be a poisonous devil fruit, but by the 1600's it was popping up in recipes all over Spain and Italy. Just imagine Italian or Greek cuisine before the ever-present tomato crossed their kitchen tables!

Welcome to Puerto Vallarta

There is just something really special about Puerto Vallarta that I haven't felt in any of the other resort destinations that we visit. Each one has its own distinct vibe, but the vibe that is PV is one of quality and grace. Now, the side that I know is, of course, not the mega high-rise and insular resort side, but rather the cobbled, low-rise, economical, and gritty side. Nothing is ever quite perfect in my Mexico and that is where the beauty lies, in the perfectly imperfect.

The thing that always overwhelms me about arriving in Puerto Vallarta is how lusciously green it is. The view from where I could grab an internet signal in our hotel looks like this:



As I wander around the cobbled streets of the old quarter poking into interesting gourmet shops, galleries, and boutiques, I always catch myself thinking, "I could live here". It helps that the supermarket is full of obscure necessities like maple syrup, tahini, blueberries, and pomegranite syrup. Sure there is the same level of tourist trash, but pomegranite syrup! Need I say more? Good food comes to you on a skewer on the beach.



While munching on BBQ'd shrimp I like to watch the well-oiled parasailing outfit at work. It is so scientific that I've almost caught myself considering giving it a whirl (something I would never ever ever do in our former home town Zihuatanejo)



This trip I was blown away by the quality, and variety of sculptures that line the fully repaired board walk which was considerably damaged in late 2002 by Hurricane Kenna.

Layers of the Onion

Markets are a passion of ours and this year Basil did a lovely job of arranging our tour to pass through several towns on market day. We always enjoy revisiting old flavours and discovering new ones and it never ceases to amaze us how something new always reveals itself to us that is absolutely everywhere, but that, somehow, we have never taken notice of. Our wise host Alfred, of Macan Che Bed and Breakfast in Izamal, once expressed this phenomenon as "peeling away of layers of the onion". The whole onion may be visible, but there are many very fine layers to savour. This is exactly what travelling or living in a foreign place can be. The beautiful thing is that, if you are open to it, it applies not just to browsing through markets, but to all aspects of the life that surrounds you when you are away from the confines of what is familiar to you. A person can only absorb so much new information at one time and new layers seem to reveal themselves only when you are ready for them and what an honoured treat it is to discover the layers of the onion that come together to make Mexico.

The markets of Michoacan are a wealth of flavours. Some of our favourites are in Paracho, Tarecuato, and Nahuatzen. All for very different reasons. Paracho is large and lively and we have come to look forward to their very popular atole de cajeta, prepared fresh fruit, and simple, but hearty coarsely ground blue corn cookies .




Tarecuato is small. Black and blue shawls abound and the variety of atoles (corn based warm beverages flavoured with an incredible combination of fruit, nuts, seeds, and other tasty flavourings) changes with every visit. I hope to one day find myself in the area for their Atole Fair that is held there every year on the Saturday before Palm Sunday.




Nahuatzen is another market favourite of ours. Part of it might be the rolling pastoral vistas that carry you to this peaceful little town, an part of it might be the gentle sweetness of the vendors, but mostly it is the sheer quality of excellent fruit and veg and other edible options. One of my favourite fruit choices this visit was mispero an exotic, small, round fruit that grows on trees and is known in asia as loquat or chinese plum. It is best when the thin skin is peeled off and the light orange grape-like fruit is sucked off the four smooth pits tucked away inside it.

Milky Michoacan

I have no idea if the cow is a dairy cow or not, but the gorgeous fade from brown to black mesmerized me enough to stop my bike. Can a cow be majestic?

The state of Michoacan loves its milk and it is possible to still find milk delivered all natural, unhomogenized, unpasturized to people's doors. One day, while out wandering around Quiroga, I stumbled across two gentlemen on horseback with their morning milk that they were taking in to town. I wished I had a jar to take some back to Basil to offer up for our kefir, but, even though I do like to collect them, I'm not in the habit of walking around with empty jars.

Instead we had to settle for one of my favourite Michoacan treats: the energetico! The energetico is a big cup with layers of fresh seasonal fruit and yoghurt topped with any combo of nuts, amarynth or chocolate sprinkles.

avocados & blue agave

Agriculturally rich Michoacan is the avocado growing capital of the world. Between Angahuan and Zamora we cycle past thousands of avocado trees. Nearing the north of the state and the border with Jalisco state (home to tequila and blue agave) we start to see sharply ordered fields of proud blue agave.