Category: Music

Mexico and Her Marvelous Music :: And The Band Played On

Trio Los Panchos, from the 1950s. They're still playing today and everyone of every age in Mexico knows all the words to all the songs they've sung since their beginning. You can hear them here:

[youtube=://www.youtube.com/watch?v=go8kmo4LABU&w=420&h=315]
A few nights ago some friends and I were having dinner at a local restaurant. A wonderful trio (lead guitar, second guitar, and bass) played a broad selection of Mexico's favorite tunes while we enjoyed our food and conversation. From the table behind us, a woman's voice rang out in English, "Boy, these mariachis are really good."

Her comment, one I've heard over and over again, made me think about the many varieties of Mexican music. Not all Mexican music is mariachi, although many people assume that it is.

It's just as incorrect to classify all Mexican music as mariachi as it is to classify all music from the United States as jazz. Mariachi has its traditions, its place, and its beauties, but there are many other styles of Mexican music to enjoy.

Ranchera, norteña, trio, bolero, banda, huasteco, huapango, trova, danzón, vals, cumbia, jarocho, salsa, son–??the list could go on and on. While many styles of music are featured in specific areas, others, like norteña, banda, ranchera, and bolero, are heard everywhere in Mexico. Let's take a look at just a few of the most popular styles of music heard in present-day Mexico.

Norteña
Música norteña (northern music) will set your feet a-tapping and will remind you of a jolly polka. Norteña had its beginnings along the Texas-Mexico border. It owes its unique quality to the instrument at its heart, the accordion. The accordion was introduced into either far southeastern Texas or the far north of Mexico by immigrants from Germany, Czechoslovakia, or Poland. No one knows for sure who brought the accordion, but by the 1950s this rollicking music had become one of the far and away favorite music styles of Mexico.

A norteña group of musicians playing a set of trap drums, a stand-up bass, and the accordion produces an instantly recognizable and completely infectious sound. The songs have a clean, spare accordion treble and a staccato effect from the drum, while the bass pounds out the deep bottom line of the music.

Música norteña is popular everywhere in Mexico. Conjuntos norteños (bands) often play as itinerant musicians. These are the musicians who are often hired to play serenades in the wee hours of Mother's Day morning, who play under the window of a romantic young man's girl friend while she peeps from behind the curtain, and who wander through restaurantes campestres (country-style restaurants) all over Mexico to play a song or two for hire at your table.

Here's a great norteño by one of my favorite groups, Bronco:

[youtube=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=urH3cU2_z1M&w=560&h=315]

Banda de Viento and Banda

Banda de viento and banda are similar musical styles: both have a military legacy. Each has moved in its own direction to provide different types of entertainment. Banda de viento (wind band, or brass band) originated in Mexico in the middle 1800s during the reign of Emperor Maximilian and Empress Carlota. Later, Presidents Benito Juárez and Porfirio Díaz commissioned the creation of brass bands in their home state, Oaxaca, in imitation of the brass bands that entertained at the Emperor's court.

The huge upsurge of popularity of brass bands in Mexico came in the early 20th Century. After the Mexican revolution, local authorities formed "Sunday bands" made up of military musicians who played in municipalities' plaza bandstands all over Mexico.

[youtube=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_SlUY26dObo&w=560&h=315]
In Zacatecas, many bandas de viento specialize in leading callejonadas, street processions that exist for the joy of the music–if you're in Zacatecas, don't miss the fun!

Here's the Marcha de Zacatecas, one of Mexico's most famous marches:
[youtube=://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NWdB26F5wLQ&w=420&h=315]
There are regional differences in banda de viento style, but you can still take a Sunday stroll around many rural Mexican plazas to hear the tuba oompah the bass part, the trumpets blare, squeaky clarinets take the lead, and the tamborazo (percussion) keeps the beat. Sunday municipal band concerts no longer exist in some large cities, but you can still hear weekly concerts in smaller towns.

Banda music, which exploded onto the Mexican music scene in the 1990s, is a direct outgrowth of the municipal bands of Mexico. Banda is one of the most popular styles of dance music among Mexican young people. In small towns, we're often treated to a banda group playing for a weekend dance on the plaza or at a salón de eventos (events pavilion) in the center of the village. The music is inevitably loud, with a strong bass beat. You'll hear any number of rhythms, from traditional to those taken from foreign music. It's almost rock and roll. It's almost-well, it's almost a lot of styles, but it's pure banda.

Few foreigners go to these dances and that's a shame, because it's great fun to go and watch the kids dance. You might want to take earplugs; the banks of speakers can be enormous and powerful.

[youtube=://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KRlsmjY9gVY&w=420&h=315]
Banda El Recodo plays "El Sinaloense". Hang onto your hats!

The dancing will amaze you. Children, teenagers, and adults of all ages dance in styles ranging from old fuddy-duddy to la quebradita. La quebradita is a semi-scandalous style of dance which involves the man wrapping his arms completely around the woman while he puts his right leg between her two as they alternate feet and twirl around the dance floor. Complete with lots of dipping and other strenuous moves, la quebradita is a dance that's at once athletic and extremely sexual.

Bolero
In the United States and Canada, it's very common for those of us who are older to swoon over what we know as the 'standards'. Deep Purple, Red Sails in the Sunset, Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, and almost anything by Ol' Blue Eyes can take us right back to our youthful romances. Most of us can dance and sing along with every note and word.

Here in Mexico, it's the same for folks of every age. The romantic songs from the 1940s, 50s, and 60s are known as boleros. The theme of the bolero is love–happy love, unhappy love, unrequited love, indifference, but always love. I think just about everyone has heard the classic Bésame Mucho, a bolero written by Guadalajara native Consuelo Velásquez. This timeless favorite has been recorded by Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, and The Beatles, among countless other interpreters of romance.

Here's Luis Miguel, one of Mexico's modern interpreters of bolero, singing Bésame Mucho:

[youtube=://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSO9P8LgC-o&w=560&h=315]

[youtube=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_YJg0SpOoeQ&w=560&h=315]
Armando Manzanero, born in 1935 in Mérida, Mexico, was one of the most famous writers of bolero. His more than 400 songs have been translated into numerous languages. More than 50 of his songs have gained international recognition. Remember Perry Como singing It's Impossible?  Armando Manzanero wrote it long ago as "Somos Novios".

Crowds memorialize Pedro Infante, one of Mexico's greatest stars.

[youtube=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EdqLGTZd3NA&w=560&h=315]
"Amorcito Corazón" is one of Pedro Infante's his most famous songs. His voice–and the words to the song–make me sigh for joy.

Agustín Lara was another of Mexico's prolific songwriters. Before Lara died in 1973, he wrote more than 700 romantic songs. Some of those were translated into English and sung by North of the Border favorites Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, and yes, even Elvis Presley. The most famous of his songs to be translated into English included You Belong to My Heart (originally Solamente Una Vez), Be Mine Tonight (originally Noche de Ronda), and The Nearness of You.

Ranchera
The dramatic ranchera (country music), which emerged during the Mexican Revolution, is considered by many to be the country's quintessential popular music genre. Sung to different beats, including the waltz and the bolero, its lyrics traditionally celebrate rural life, talk about unrequited love and tell of the struggles of Mexico's Everyman.

Ana Gabriel is one of today's reigning queens of música ranchera. Listen to her sing one of her all-time great songs: Y Aquí Estoy

Ranchera finds its inspiration in the traditional music that accompanies folkloric dancing in Mexico. Its form is romantic and its lyrics almost always tell a story, the kind of story we're used to in old-time country music in the United States: she stole my heart, she stole my truck, I wish I'd never met her, but I sure do love that gal. Pedro Infante, Mexico's most prolific male film star, is strongly associated with the ranchera style of Mexican music. One of the original singing cowboys, Infante's films continue to be re-issued both on tape and on DVD and his popularity in Mexico is as strong as it was in his heyday, the 1940s. Infante, who died in an airplane accident in 1957 when he was not quite forty, continues to be revered and is an enormous influence on Mexican popular culture.

Ranchera continues to be an overwhelmingly emotional favorite today; at any concert, most fans are able to sing along with every song. This marvelous music is truly the representation of the soul of Mexico, the symbol of a nation.

Ana Gabriel is the queen, but Vicente Fernández, who passed away on December 12, 2021, was the undisputed king of ranchera. Listen to him sing one of his classics: "Volver, Volver"

[youtube=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JvBfxlg657I&w=560&h=315]
Don Vicente Fernández, whose ranch, huge charro ring and concert venue, huge restaurant, and large charro-goods store are located between the Guadalajara airport and Lake Chapala, was for years the reigning king of ranchera–indeed, he was considered by many to be the King of Mexico.

Mariachi
Mariachi really is the music that most folks think of when they think of Mexico's music. Mariachi originated here, it's most famous here, and it's most loved here. The love of mariachi has spread all over the world as non-Mexicans hear its joyous (and sometimes tragic) sounds. At this year's Encuentro Internacional del Mariachi (International Mariachi Festival) in Guadalajara, mariachis from France, Czechoslovakia, Canada, Switzerland and the United States (among others) played along with their Mexican counterparts.

In the complete mariachi group today there are six to eight violins, two or three trumpets and a guitar, all standard European instruments. There is also a higher-pitched, round-backed guitar called the vihuela, which, when strummed in the traditional manner gives the mariachi its typical rhythmic vitality. You'll also see a deep-voiced guitar called the guitarrón which serves as the bass of the ensemble. Sometimes you'll see a Mexican folk harp, which usually doubles the base line but also ornaments the melody. While these three instruments have European origins, in their present form they are strictly Mexican.

Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán is the most famous mariachi in the world. Every year in Guadalajara they honor the festival with their presence at the Encuentro Internacional de Mariachi. It's an unforgettable experience. Listen to them now, and watch the audience singing along:

[youtube=://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_YLg7w4y9w&w=420&h=315]
The combined sound of these instruments makes the music unique. Like the serape (a type of long, brightly striped shawl worn mainly by Mexican men) in which widely contrasting colors are woven side by side–green and orange, red, yellow and blue–the mariachi use sharply contrasting sounds: the sweet sounds of the violins against the brilliance of the trumpets, and the deep sound of the guitarrón against the crisp, high voice of the vihuela; and the frequent shifting between syncopation and on-beat rhythm. The resulting sound is the musical heart and soul of Mexico.

One last video: you simply can't talk about Mexico's music without a deep bow to Juan Gabriel, one of the most beloved Mexican singers of all time. He first recorded the lovely Amor Eterno, written for his deceased mother, in 1991. It is a legendary classic. Once again, the audience sings along with every word.

[youtube=://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RgKqxLAhRKE&w=420&h=315]

Next time you go to your local music store, look on the racks of CDs for some of the artists and styles of Mexican music I've mentioned. You may be quite surprised to see how popular the different styles are in the United States and Canada. As the population of countries North of the Border becomes more Mexican, the many sounds of Mexican music follow the fans. Next thing you know, you'll be dancing la quebradita.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.

19 de February de 2022
Día y Noche de Muertos en Michoacán :: Day and Night of the Dead in Michoacán

Unfortunately, COVID-19, in addition to causing unprecedented worldwide death, has also separated us from publicly receiving the spirits of our departed loved one during the 2020 Day and Night of the Dead commemorations in most of Mexico. Cemeteries are closed, public spaces continue to be off-limits to the usual throngs of visitors to small town and large cities during this sacred time, and many usually highly tourisited areas in Michoacán, Oaxaca, and other areas of Mexico continue be closed to living visitors. The dead will come, expecting to be received, but our deceased friends and relatives will be welcomed in manners different from any other year in anyone's memory.

Because of inability to travel to the places I'd like to show you this year, Mexico Cooks! is simply reprinting this very popular Día y Noche de Muertos en Michoacán article from earlier times. Let's hope that in 2021 we will be able to once again enjoy the company of visitors from afar–including, first and foremost, our visitors from the más allá–the great beyond.

Remember me as you pass by,
As you are now, so once was I.
As I am now, so you will be,
Prepare for death and follow me.
…from a tombstone

What is death? We know its first symptoms: the heart stops pumping, breath and brain activity stop. We know death's look and feel: a still, cold body from which the spirit has fled. The orphan and widow know death's sorrow, the priest knows the liturgy of the departed and the prayers to assuage the pain of those left to mourn. But in most English-speaking countries, death and the living are not friends. We the living look away from our mortality, we talk of the terminally ill in terms of 'if anything happens', not 'when she dies'. We hang the crepe, we cover the mirrors, we say the beads, and some of us fling ourselves sobbing upon the carefully disguised casket as it is lowered into the Astroturf-lined grave.

Octavio Paz, Mexico City's Nobel Laureate poet and essayist who died in 1998, is famously quoted as saying, "In New York, Paris, and London, the word death is never mentioned, because it burns the lips."

Tzintzuntzan, Michoacán panteón (cemetery), Mexico Cooks! photo. These fellows sing to la Descarnada (the fleshless woman) on November 2, 2009.

In Mexico, on the contrary, every day is a dance with death. Death is a woman who has numerous affectionate and humorous nicknames: la Huesuda (the bony woman), la Seria (the serious woman), la Novia Fiel (the faithful bride), la Igualadora (the equalizer), la Dientona (the toothy woman), la Pelona (the bald woman), la Patrona (the boss lady), and a hundred more. She's always here, just around the next corner or maybe right over there, behind that pillar. She waits with patience, until later today or until twelve o'clock next Thursday, or until sometime next year–but when it's your time to go, she's right there, ready to dance away with you at her side.

November 2013 altar to La Santa Muerte (Holy Death), Sta. Ana Chapirito (near Pátzcuaro), Michoacán. Devotees of this deathly apparition say that her cult has existed since before the Spanish arrived in Mexico.

In Mexico, death is also in the midst of life. We see our dead, alive as you and me, each November, when we wait at our cemeteries for those who have gone before to come home, if only for a night. That, in a nutshell, is Noche de Muertos: the Night of the Dead.

In the lower center portion of this photograph, you can see the Quiroga, Michoacán, panteón municipal (town cemetery). Late in the afternoon of November 1, 2013, most townspeople had not yet gone to the cemetery with candles and flowers for their loved ones' graves. Click on any photograph for a larger view.

Over the course of the last nearly 40 years, Mexico Cooks! has been to countless Noche de Muertos events, but none as mystical, as spiritual, or as profoundly magical as that of 2013. Invited to accompany a very small group on a private tour in Michoacán, I looked forward to spending three days enjoying the company of old and new friends. I did all that, plus I came away with an extraordinarily privileged view of life and death.

A magnificent Purépecha ofrenda (in this case, an altar in the home of beloved friends) in the village of Santa Fe de la Laguna, Michoacán. This detailed and lovely ofrenda was created to the memory of the family's maiden aunt, who died at 74. Because she had never married, even at her advanced age she was considered to be an angelito (little angel)–like an innocent child–and her spirit was called back home to the family on November 1, the day of the angelitos. In Santa Fe de la Laguna, relatives, friends, and neighbors who arrive at the house to pay homage to a deceased person bring fresh fruit to place at the foot of the altar. This altar filled an entire room of my friends' home. Be sure to click on the photo to see the details of the altar. Fruits, breads, incense, salt, flowers, colors, and candles have particular symbolism and are necessary parts of the ofrenda.

Detail of the ofrenda casera (home altar) shown above. The altar included her favorite rebozo (shawl), placed just above her photograph. Several local people told Mexico Cooks! that the fruit piled on the altar tasted different from fruit from the same source that had not been used for the ofrenda. "Compramos por ejemplo plátanos y pusimos unos en el altar y otros en la cocina para comer. Ya para el día siguiente, los del altar pierden su sabor, no saben a nada," they said. 'We bought bananas, for example, and we put some on the ofrenda, and we put the rest in the kitchen to eat. The next day, the ones in the kitchen were perfectly normal, but the ones from the altar had no taste at all.'

Preparing a family member's ofrenda (altar) in the camposanto in a tiny village in Michoacán. The camposanto–literally, holy ground–is a cemetery contained within the walls of a churchyard. The candles used in this area of Michoacán are hand made in Ihuatzio and Santa Fe de la Laguna.

Come with me along the unlit road that skirts the Lago de Pátzcuaro: Lake Pátzcuaro. It's chilly, the puddles splash up as we drive, and the roadside weeds are damp with earlier rain, but for the moment the sky has cleared and filled with stars. Up the hill on the right and down the slope leading left toward the lake are tiny villages, dark but for the glow of tall candles lit one by one in the cemeteries. Tonight is November 1, the night silent souls wend their way home from Mictlán, the land beyond life.

At the grave: candlelight to illuminate the soul's way, cempazúchitl (deeply orange marigolds) for their distinctive fragrance required to open the path back home, smoldering copal (frankincense) to cleanse the earth and air of any remnants of evil, covered baskets of the deceased's favorite foods. And a low painted chair, where the living can rest through the night.

Watching through the night. This tumba (grave) refused to be photographed head-on. From an oblique angle, the tumba allowed its likeness to be made.

"Oh grave, where is thy victory? Oh death, where is thy sting?"

Noche de Muertos is not a costume party, although you may see it portrayed as such in the press. It is not a drunken brawl, although certain towns appear to welcome that sort of blast-of-banda-music reventón (big blow-out). It is not a tourist event, though strangers are certainly welcomed to these cemeteries. Noche de Muertos is a celebration of the spirit's life over the body's death, a festival of remembrance, a solemn passover. Years ago, in an interview published in the New York Times, Mexico Cooks! said, "Noche de Muertos is about mutual nostalgia. The living remember the dead, and the dead remember the taste of home."

One by one, grave by grave, golden cempazúchitles give shape to rock-bound tombs and long candles give light to what was a dark and lonely place, transforming the cemetery into a glowing garden. How could a soul resist this setting in its honor?

"Our hearts remember…" we promise the dead. Church bells toll slowly throughout the night, calling souls home with their distinctive clamor (death knell). Come…come home. Come…come home.

Waiting. Memories. Prayers. No te olvido, mi viejo amado. (I haven't forgotten you, my beloved old man.)

Next year, come with me.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here to see new information: Tours

31 de October de 2020
Charrería, The Gentleman’s Sport in Mexico

A few Septembers ago, a friend and I spent a marvelous weekend of charrería (the sport of the horsemen) in Guadalajara. The Quinto Campeonato Nacional del Charro (Fifth National Championship Charro Competition) was held there in conjunction with the Festival Internacional de Mariachi. We drove to Guadalajara on a Saturday in a monumental rainstorm, arriving with high expectations for our stay, without an umbrella and a lot of trepidation about the amount of water that was pouring from the sky. We waited and watched from our hotel's balcony as the rain cascaded and then, little by little, tapered off to occasional drops.

Maru and I hopped in a cab for the ride to the Unión Ganadera Regional (the charro arena). Our cabbie regaled us all along the way with tales about charreadas and the dangers of the maneuvers the charros undertake. Our excitement and anticipation of the day was building and we were among the first to arrive for that day's 11:30 am contests. Three teams of charros would compete each day for three days; on the fourth day, each prior day's winning team would compete for the national championship.

We watched as workers decorated the perimeter of the stands with garlands of estropajos (fiber scrub pads), hojas de maíz (dried corn husks) and listones de tricolor (heavy ribbons of green, white, and red: Mexico's national colors). When the escaramuza team finished its rehearsal, the charros on horseback began to come into the arena to pick their way through the mud in preparation for the events.The rain had stopped, but the charro arena was a mess of thick mud and deep puddles. The escaramuza (women's sidesaddle precision riding team) was practicing when we arrived, the horses spraying mud as the girls spurred them to a dead run, weaving across one another's paths.

Charrería, the national sport of Mexico and a forerunner of the North American rodeo, originated among the Spanish conquistadors in the sixteenth century. Charros, the Mexican horsemen, adapted the equestrian contests of the Spaniards to produce a uniquely Mexican sport. By the nineteenth century, these contests were essential elements of celebrations on large haciendas, especially those festivities celebrating the herraderos (brandings) and rodeos (round-ups). People came from miles around to take part in the celebrations and to watch the charros exhibit their skills and compete against each other in daring competitions of horsemanship.

When, as a result of the Mexican Revolution, the huge haciendas in Mexico were divided into large ranches, , charros feared the demise of this tradition. They called a meeting in Mexico City on July 4, 1921 to found the Asociación Nacional de Charros. In 1933, the Federación Nacional de Charros was created to govern the different charro associations that emerged across the country. By the late twentieth century, this organization was governing charro associations in both Mexico and the United States. In order to compete in a charreada, or rodeo, all associations must be licensed by the federation and competitors must be certified as charros

Many of us confuse the rodeo of the United States with the charreada of Mexico, assuming they are the same. One outstanding difference between the contemporary rodeo and the charreada is that rodeo is an individual sport, while charreada is a team competition.

The charreadas are performed in a lienzo, or arena, which has two principal areas: one is sixty meters long and twelve meters wide and the second is a circular area with a diameter of forty meters. Unlike the rodeo competitor, the charro does not compete for prize money but rather only for the honor of the sport.

The charreada is highly ritualized and the events follow a traditional sequence. The competition usually begins with a military march played by a group of mariachi. A procession follows, with representatives of the different charro associations on horseback, riding around the lienzo carrying flags and banners. They are followed by the president of the state charro association, the members of the competing teams and perhaps the escaramuza team.

The singer Vicente Fernández completing the cala de caballo.

Once the opening ceremony is completed, the first of nine separate competitions begins. Each separate event is called a suerte. The first is the cala de caballo. During this event, the equivalent of dressage in traditional equestrian competition, judges evaluate the rider's control of the horse. The charro rides at a dead gallop from the end of the rectangular chute of the lienzo to the middle of the arena, where he must rein in his horse within a marked area twenty meters wide by six meters long. He must also lead the horse in rapid right (and then left) 360 degree turns, assuring that one rear hoof of the horse remains firmly in place as the animal spins. The charros are also judged on their ability to control backward movements, the horse essentially moving 'in reverse'.

The second event is the piales en lienzo, during which three charros attempt to rope the hind legs of a horse, steer or bull. The third event is the coleadero, sometimes called colear or el coleo. There are at least eight different methods of accomplishing this feat, but the classic move requires the charro to gallop along side the bull as it bursts from its chute. He must then grab the bull by the tail, wrap the tail around his own right leg and speed his horse forward, causing the bull to lose balance, thereby flipping the bull on its back.

The fourth competition is the jineteo de toros, or bull-riding, during which the charro must ride a bull until it stops bucking. During la terna, which is approximately the equivalent of team roping in a North American rodeo, two riders must rope a calf as quickly as possible. One encircles the neck and the other snares the hind legs.

Water color painting of the jineteo de yeguas.

The jineteo de yeguas is bronco-riding. The seventh and eighth events are the piales and the manganas, where the charro, must rope the hind legs and the forelegs of a running mare and pull it off balance. One event is done from the back of the horse, the other standing in the ring.

The final event is considered the most difficult. The paso de la muerte or "death pass" (above) is an event in which the charro rides his tame horse bareback and at a full gallop, attempting to jump onto a wild horse and ride it until it stops bucking.

A charro may compete in only three events in the state or national competitions; only one individual from each association may compete in all events and he is known as the charro completo. Competitors are judged for style as well as execution.

The charro suit that belonged to Emiliano Zapata.

The adjective 'handsome' barely does justice to the charro. From his wide-brimmed heavy sombrero, fitted with a woven horsehair or tooled leather hatband, to his fine leather or ostrich-skin boots, he is every centímetro the gentleman cowboy.

The national organizations strictly supervise and enforce the dress code of the charros. There are several approved levels of clothing, from working outfits to a full dress suit which can double as a tuxedo for formal occasions. The most familiar charro outfit includes a starched white shirt, subtly colored floppy bowtie, tight-fitting jacket and slender belled pants adorned with rows of botondura, hundreds of silver or gold buttons linked with chains. These elegantly dressed charros are hardly the Wrangler-wearing, mud-covered cowpokes we associate with rodeo in the States or Canada. By 11 am, the crowd began to arrive in the arena. The dignitaries were dressed in costumes styled from the period of the Porfiriato (1876-1910). The women wore long, ribboned dresses with multi-colored skirts, fabulous rebozos (long, intricately patterned rectangular shawls with hand-knotted fringe) were draped around their shoulders and their hair was pulled severely into buns secured by large flowers. Little girls were dressed as beautifully as their mothers and grandmothers.

Charrería is predominantly a male sport. Women perform in only one event, the escaramuza (skirmish). An escaramuza team consists of eight women who perform precision patterns while riding sidesaddle, often to musical accompaniment. This event is traditionally held after the coleadero and before the jineteo.

The adjective 'handsome' barely does justice to the charro. From his wide-brimmed heavy sombrero, fitted with a woven horsehair or tooled leather hatband, to his fine leather or ostrich-skin boots, he is every centímetro the gentleman cowboy.

The men, so elegant in their finest trajes de charro (cowboy suits), looked as if they had stepped out of the 19th century. Bristling mustaches and huge hats were the order of the day. These were the honored guests; the rest of us spectators wore normal clothes, but all jeans were knife-creased, all hats impeccable and everyone was considerably more dressed up than one might expect at a typical rodeo.

The crowd erupted in applause as the announcer introduced each charro and each took his place. Special announcements were made as the famous old charros took their places of honor, and the crowd erupted in applause at every name. It is easy to see why the charreada is a revered sporting tradition in Mexico and to understand why so much reverence is given to the founding fathers.

The grand parade of charros began with blaring music, led by a young woman from the escaramuza team who rode sidesaddle in full Porfiriato-era finery: a deeply ruffled long skirt, ribbons in her hair and the ubiquitous wide-brimmed sombrero, tilted at a just-so angle. Cheers and clapping continued as she led the teams, each with its team banner, around the perimeter of the arena. Then the fun really started.

Charro weddings are spectacular!

All nine suertes were played out that Saturday by the three competing teams. My favorite was the coleadero, in which the bull is let out of the chute as a charro on horseback waits by the chute gate. As the bull comes storming out of the chute, the cowboy's task is to gallop his horse full-tilt alongside the bull, grab the bull's tail, wind it twice around his leg and pull the bull to the ground, by the tail, all within a distance of about 200 feet. The bulls fell hard but always jumped right up and went running to their pens again.

The piales y manganas were spectacular, as the charros handled la riata (the lariat) with enormous skill. We were amazed to see one man first lasso and free the two front feet of the mare. In the second pass around the arena he lassoed and freed the two rear feet of the mare. In his third and final pass around the arena, he simultaneously lassoed all four feet of the galloping mare! No other charro that day was able to match his accomplished roping ability.

Some of the most famous mariachis in the world, Los Camperos de Nati Cano, played during the entire charreada. We were entranced by the music, fascinated by the color and action of the spectacle and thrilled by the acts of bravery and skill that the charros performed. What a day!

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.

12 de October de 2019
Market to Table :: Second Annual Encuentro de Cocineras Tradicionales de Oaxaca, Days Three and Four

Oaxaca's Mercado de la Merced. It's small compared to the city's downtown Mercado 20 de noviembre, yet quite complete in its offerings and is arguably the most traditional of Oaxaca City's markets. You'll find everything from freshly baked pan de yema to–well, to anything you might need from a market. The Merced also has a number of excellent fondas–small, often family-run restaurant stands where one can eat well for a relatively low price. The market is at the corner of Calles José María Morelos and Leandro Valle in the city of Oaxaca.

We started our morning at the famous Fonda Florecita inside the Mercado de la Merced. Foamy hot chocolate was the envy of this piggy bank. Although I have eaten here with great pleasure on many other occasions, none of us were too happy with breakfast today. We finished fairly quickly and took a walk through the market to see what was available and interesting.

These oval, "pleated" tomatoes are shaped almost like kidneys–hence their name, jitomate de riñón (kidney tomatoes). They are endemic to Oaxaca and have a slightly different and more intense tomato flavor that gives a truly special taste to the dishes in which they're used.

On the left, locally grown granadas (pomegranates). On the right, a tiny fruit called jiotillo, similar to its large cousin, the pitaya.

Anywhere you wander in Oaxaca, you'll find chapulines (grasshoppers) for sale. They come toasted with salt, chile, and a little jugo de limón (juice of Mexico's most common lime). These are my favorites, the tiniest ones. Sprinkled into a quesadilla, served with guacamole, or as a botana (snack) on their own, they're delicious. Yes, they really are.

What we see in Mexico is often a surreal juxtaposition of objects. Here, a market vendor displays raw chickens with their feet splayed out below a huge and beautiful magnolia flower, still on its branch. And why not.

Left to right: locally grown and freshly harvested ajo (garlic), an enormous green pod–close to 18" long–called cuajinicuil, tiny green miltomates in a plastic bag, and granadas (pomegranates).

Later we cut the cuajinicuil open at the edges to see and taste the edible parts inside. The raw, fluffy, white, fibrous material protects the green seeds and is the part that's eaten as a sweet fruit. The green seeds, which are just under two inches long, can be cooked and eaten, but are not eaten raw. We and several friends tried the white part and pronounced it delicious and refreshing.

Outside the market, newly laundered jeans hung on a chicken wire fence to dry.

We grabbed a cab from the market to the Plaza de la Danza in Oaxaca's Centro Histórico to continue with Day Three at the Second Encuentro de Cocineras Tradicionales de Oaxaca.

Just inside the entrance to the event, we saw this wonderful example of ingenuity: a wheelbarrow, converted into a fogón (fire enclosure, the flames are just visible)–complete with a cal (builder's lime) coated clay comal supported by bricks for preparing tortillas. The use of cal gives the surface of the comal a non-stick coating. Cocinera tradicional Sra. Martina Sánchez Cruz of the Valles Centrales de Oaxaca, was in charge of preparing the tortillas. We'll see more of doña Martina next week, in a special event at the Encuentro. "Doña" is an honorific given to women (it's "don", for men) as a sign of respect.

Ceviche made from wild mushrooms by young cocinera tradicional María del Carmen Gómez Martínez from Tlahuitoltepec, Sierra Norte, Oaxaca.

Garnachas–in this case, five small tortillas similar in size and shape to the antojito known as sopes, served with frijoles negros refritos (refried black beans), and with picadillo, among other toppings, all accompanied by delicious crumbled cheese and verduras encurtidas (pickled vegetables). Served with choice of salsas.

Cocineras from the Zona Triqui, west and slightly to the north of the city of Oaxaca City. The indigenous Triquis live in some of the most remote villages of Oaxaca state; outside their region, their food is very little known. These women, and several other Triqui women, traveled with some difficulty to bring their cuisine to the Encuentro. They were unfortunately disappointed in the public's limited understanding and acceptance of the food they prepared.

We were much enamored of each community and region's typical dress and hairstyle. Unfortunately I don't have notes to indicate some of the communities. There was simply too much to see, to much to hear, too much to experience, and above all, too many people crowded into booths to take highly detailed information.

Making tortillas with a press.

These beautifully dressed and coiffed cocineras tradicionales are anticipating what writer/chef Margarita Carrillo de Salinas will say as she takes notes on what the food they prepared and served in their stand.

Panza rellena con barbacoa (sheep stomach stuffed with meat and spices and then long-cooked). The panza had just been removed from the cooking vessel and cut open. The fragrance was delicious! The panza, along with several other dishes made of sheep, was prepared and served by cocinero tradicional Sr. Irving Sergio Clemente Villegas from Villa Tejuapam de la Unión, Teposcolula, in the Zona Mixteca. Men rather than women are almost always in charge of making barbacoa. Each molcajete (volcanic stone grinding vessel) filled with tradition
al green and red salsas was actually bigger than the panza itself.

One other barbacoa expert was selling his wares at the Encuentro.  Sr. Alejandro López Cosme from the Villa de Zaachila in the Valles Centrales prepared Niño Envuelto made of barbacoa de res (beef barbacoa) or barbacoa de cerdo (pork barbacoa). Niño Envuelto translates literally to "a child wrapped up" and is the term used for making a jelly roll, so you can imagine how the meats are prepared for this dish. The beef is cut very thin, the way tasajo is cut, and well-seasoned. Then it's rolled around vegetables, layer upon layer, in a covering of native avocado leaves; the native avocado imparts an anise flavor to the meat. Then it's slathered with a concoction made by don Alejandro, covered, cooked for several hours, sliced, and served with salsa. Photo courtesy El Universal.

Cocinera tradicional Sra. Faustina Lucía Valencia Sánchez from San Antonino Castillo Velásco in the Valles Centrales, preparing chocolateatole early on the morning of the fourth day of the Encuentro. Sra. Valencia generously took the time to instruct us in the specifics of this uniquely Oaxacan drink. The foam for the drink, made of a particular kind of cocoa beans that are buried underground to ferment for as many as eight months–along with ground, toasted wheat, sugar, cinnamon, water, and other ingredients–is made separately from the atole itself, which is white. The foam is whipped until quite stiff with a special molinillo (chocolate beater) which has no loose rings. Once the foam is ready to be used, it will hold its shape for several hours or more. To serve the drink, one's cup is first filled with atole blanco, and then the thick, heavy foam is heaped on top. The foam is often made some time prior to the day it will be served, and then dried solid; when the festivities are about to start, the dried hunks of foam are ground to powder, sprinkled with water, and beaten again to use on top of the atole blanco (white atole).

Cacao fermentado (fermented cacao beans), the principal ingredient for Oaxacan chocolateatole. You might be familiar with champurrado, the chocolate atole (note separation of the words) made in many parts of Mexico. Chocolateatole is not champurrado, it is a drink unique to Oaxaca.

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Grinding the fermented cacao beans on a metate to prepare for the foam for chocolateatole.

Chocolateatole oaxaquéño, topped with a large amount of extremely thick chocolate foam and ready to be drunk.

The Encuentro offered four full days of academic conferences in addition to offering food from every region of Oaxaca. We heard panel conference about El Quehacer de una Cocinera Tradicional (The Tasks of a Traditional Cook), moderated by chef Margarita Carrillo de Salinas; about La Cocina Oaxaqueña como Patrimonio del Estado de Oaxaca y la Importancia de Preservarla (The Oaxacan Cuisine as a Heritage and the Importance of Preserving It), presented by teacher, writer, and designer Claudio Sánchez Islas; El Maíz Como Patrimonio Gastronómico (Corn as a Gastronomic Heritage), presented by Maestro Rafael Mier Sáinz Trapaga (photo above); and Conversario de Cocineras Tradicionales del Estado de Oaxaca "Historias de la Vida" (A Conversation Among Traditional Cooks from Oaxaca: Life Stories, again moderated by writer/chef Margarita Carrillo de Salinas.

The group of eight cocineras tradicionales who willingly shared their life histories. Left to right: Sra. Carina Santiago Bautista, Sra. Faustina Lucía Valencia Sánchez, Sra. Martina Sánchez Cruz, Dra. Ana Laura Martínez (director of the Culinary Arts School in Tijuana, Baja California); Sra. Dolores García Arroyo; Sra. María Sarah Gómez Galán; Sra. Emma Méndez García (holding the microphone), Sra. Elena Tapia Flores (in the white cap), Sra. Porfiria Bautista López, and chef/writer Margarita Carrillo de Salinas, the moderator of the panel. This conference was so moving that we in the audience wept unguardedly as these women spoke. They opened their hearts and minds to tell us who they are, why they cook, and the incredible deep personal meaning their cooking holds for them, for their children, and for future generations. It was an honor and a privilege to be present.

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At the end of that conference, cocinera tradicional Sra. Emma Méndez García, from Huautla de Jiménez, La Cañada zone, sang her gratitude to the audience with this song in her native Mazateco language. Sra. Méndez prepared five distinct dishes for the Encuentro, among them pipián con huevo duro (a seed-based sauce with hard-boiled eggs), tamales with tesmole (a pre-Hispanic recipe), and quelites (native greens).

On that beautiful note, we'll stop until next week. Come back on June 9, 2018, to enjoy Mexico Cooks! final report about the Second Annual Encuentro de Cocineras Tradicionales de Oaxaca. We're going to visit 70 cocineras traditionales as each of them prepares tamales important in the region where each cook lives. You know that I've been to many, many of Mexico's fantastic food events, but I have never been so bowled over as I was by the tamales demonstration. Don't miss it, right here in one week.

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2 de June de 2018
De Vaga en Veracruz, Tierra Jarocha :: Vacation Wanderings in Veracruz, Part I

On the malecón (pier) in the port of Veracruz. Mexican president Venustiano Carranza used this lighthouse building, built at the turn of the 20th century, as the Palacio Nacional (federal government offices) from 1914 to 1915. During that short period, the city of Veracruz was the nation's capital. Today, the Faro Venustiano Carranza (lighthouse of Venustiano Carranza) serves as part of Mexico's naval headquarters. All photos by Mexico Cooks! unless otherwise noted.

Directly across the street from the lovely old building in the photo above, the hyper-modern port of Veracruz receives and sends enormous quantities of goods to and from everywhere in the world.

Vacation! And not just vacation, but vacation in Veracruz, one of Mexico's most beautiful states–I was so excited at the prospect of re-visiting the Puerto de Veracruz (port city), where I had not been since about 1994. Two friends and I carefully chose two weeks for travel that would not be too hot, not be too humid: the temperatures along the Veracruz coast can range as high as more than 100ºF, with humidity equally high. Even during the second and third weeks of December, the high temperatures were in the mid-80s and the humidity was in that same range or higher. Did we get used to it? Not so much, but we definitely enjoyed a most fascinating trip together. From the Puerto to the mountain towns of Xalapa, Coatepec, and Xico, and from the Córdoba flanks of the Pico de Orizaba (Mexico's highest mountain, an inactive volcano) to Papantla, the land of vanilla's origin, we traveled and learned. And ate. And ate some more. Come along!

One of our group seriously craved and insisted on breakfast at La Parroquia. In researching the trip, I'd read that this old-time restaurant was muy de caída (had gone a long way down hill), but oh my goodness, our first breakfast in Veracruz was fantastic.

La Parroquia is most noted for its ritual lechero–freshly brewed Veracruz-grown coffee, poured from on high to the level you prefer in your glass, the glass then filled (again, from on high) with steaming hot milk. This first morning, the coffee wowed all three of us.

Hot milk from the heights! Photo courtesy Mexico Destinos.

The place was jam-packed for breakfast; there was no sign of a down-hill slide in quality or quantity the late-morning we were at La Parroquia. Best of all, our server, don Galindo, was a real treasure-trove of knowledge about the area. He directed us to–well, we'll go there next week on Mexico Cooks!.

Among many other regional specialties on the breakfast menu, the house special tortilla parroquia intrigued us. It's a tortilla española (Spanish-style omelet with egg and potato), cooked and then submerged in rich turkey broth. It's topped with shredded turkey, grilled onion, and chile serrano toreado (lightly fried in oil until the skin blisters and the chile is soft). Doesn't it sound odd? We were entranced by the flavor combination! Just writing about it makes me want another one right now!

Gorda negra with cheese, from La Parroquia.

We also requested other Parroquia specialties: gordas negras (corn tortilla dough combined with finely ground cooked black beans), patted out or pressed to form tortillas a bit thicker than usual. These are then fried in oil until they inflate and are served with salsa and cheese or cream. We also ordered gordas dulces (corn dough mixed with a little flour, a pinch of baking soda, and quite a bit of brown sugar), patted out and fried the same as the gordas negras, and served with thick grated mild white cheese and salsa. We also asked for what turned out to be a perfect plate of huevos motuleños, specialty of the Yucatán peninsula. We relished everything, shared among us, along with freshly squeezed super-sweet orange juice (the state of Veracruz produces nearly 40% of the oranges grown in Mexico) plus a second glass of lechero filled us to the brim.

That night, we enjoyed watching danzón in the Puerto de Veracruz zócalo. The group of both dancers and spectators was small but happy. Danzón is the official dance of Cuba and also very, very popular in Mexico.

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Just to show you the dance form, here's a danzón video from Guadalajara, where one can danzón (or take inexpensive danzón classes) every Sunday evening in the plaza just in front of the Templo Expiatorio, at the corner of Calle López Cotilla and Av. Enrique Díaz de León.

In our meanderings close to the port city, we happened upon an island restaurant in tiny Mandinga-Alvarado. "Happened upon" is, of course, a euphemism for "asked everybody in the general area where to find it". Once we found the town of Mandinga, population approximately 1500, we stopped at the town taxi stand and asked a cabbie for directions to the restaurant, Isla Paraíso. He had no idea! Another fellow approached the car and said he'd guide us; he went running down the street ahead of our car and led us right to this bridge. We walked across into a world apart: Isla Paraíso opened nearly 40 years ago and is still going strong.

Mandinga is famous world-wide for its oysters. The oyster (Crassostrea virginica) is harvested throughout the entire Eastern coast of North America, from the Gulf of St. Lawrence in Canada to the Gulf of Mexico, including huge daily harvests from the Mandinga lagoon. Of course we had to eat a plateful.

The specialty of the house at Restaurante Isla Paraíso, oysters cooked in various ways and, in this case, served as an appetizer.

The restaurant owner, Patricia Waters Mújica, is British. Her Mexican husband, who passed away just a few years ago, met her in England and moved her and their family to Puebla, then to Australia, then to the Puerto de Veracruz–and ultimately to Mandinga, after many fascinating life adventures. They opened the restaurant, and Patsy has lived in tiny Mandinga all that time, raising their two daughters and running the restaurant. It was a delight to spend the afternoon and evening hearing her story.

Our last morning in the Puerto de Veracruz, we once again had breakfast at La Parroquia. This time, the restaurant unfortunately lived up to its current way-down-hill reputation. Almost everything we ordered, including this repeat plate of huevos motuleños, was far, far below the quality of what we ate the first morning. Even the coffee was disappointing. We shared the opinion that had this been our initial breakfast, we wouldn't have returned.

Next week, come back for much more de vaca y de vaga (vacation and wandering around) in central Veracruz.

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11 de March de 2017
Celebrating February 2: The Christ Child on Candlemas Day in Mexico

Niños Dios: one Christ Child, many colors: ideal for Mexico's broad range of skin tones. Mercado Medellín, Colonia Roma, Mexico City.

For about a month prior to Christmas each year, the Niño Dios (baby Jesus) is for sale everywhere in Mexico. Mexico Cooks! took this photograph in 2013 at the annual tianguis navideño (Christmas market) in front of the Mercado Medellín, Colonia Roma, Mexico City. These Niños Dios range in size from just a few inches long to nearly the size of a two-year-old child. They're sold wrapped in only a diaper.

When does the Christmas season end in your family? When I was a child, my parents packed the Christmas decorations away on January 1, New Year's Day. Today, I like to enjoy the nacimientos (manger scenes), the Christmas lights, and the tree until the seventh or eighth of January, right after the Día de los Reyes Magos (the Feast of the Three Kings). Some people think that date is scandalously late. Other people, particularly my many Mexican friends, think that date is scandalously early. Christmas in Mexico isn't over until February 2, el Día de la Candelaria (Candlemas Day), also known as the Feast of the Presentation.

The Holy Family, a shepherd and some of his goats, Our Lady of Guadalupe, an angel, a little French santon cat from Provence, and some indigenous people form a small portion of Mexico Cooks!' nacimiento. Click on the photo to get a better look. Note that the Virgin Mary is breast feeding the infant Jesus while St. Joseph watches over them.

Although Mexico's 21st century Christmas celebration often includes Santa Claus and a Christmas tree, the main focus of a home-style Christmas continues to be the nacimiento and the Christian Christmas story. A family's nacimiento may well contain hundreds–even thousands–of figures, but all nacimientos have as their heart and soul the Holy Family (the Virgin Mary, St. Joseph, and the baby Jesus). This centerpiece of the nacimiento is known as el Misterio (the Mystery). The nacimiento is set up early–mine is always out at the very beginning of December–but the Niño Dios does not make his appearance until the night of December 24, when he is sung to and placed in the manger.

Niños Dios at Mexico City's Mercado de la Merced. The figures are dressed as hundreds of different saints and representations of holy people and ideas. The figures are for sale, but most people are only shopping for new clothes for their baby Jesus. All photos copyright Mexico Cooks! except as noted.

Between December 24, when he is tenderly rocked to sleep and laid in the manger, and February 2, the Niño Dios rests happily in the bosom of his family. As living members of his family, we are charged with his care. As February approaches, a certain excitement begins to bubble to the surface. The Niño Dios needs new clothing! How shall we dress him this year?

The oldest tradition is to dress the Niño Dios in hand-crocheted garments. Photo courtesy Manos Mexicanos.

According to Christian teaching, the Virgin Mary and St. Joseph took the baby Jesus to the synagogue 40 days after his birth to introduce him in the temple–hence February 2 is also known as the Feast of the Presentation. What happy, proud mother would wrap her newborn in just any old thing to take him to church for the first time? I suspect that this brand new holy child was dressed as much to the nines as his parents could afford.

The Niño Dios dressed as San Juan Diego, the indigenous man who brought Our Lady of Guadalupe to the Roman Catholic Church.

Every February 2, churches are packed with men, women, and families carrying their Niños Dios to church in his new clothes, ready to be blessed, lulled to sleep with a sweet lullaby, and tucked gently away till next year.

The Niño Dios as el Santo Niño Doctor de los Enfermos (the Holy Child, doctor of the sick). He has his stethoscope, his uniform, and his doctor's bag. This traditionally dressed baby Jesus has origins in mid-20th century in the city of Puebla.

Every year new and different clothing for the Niño Dios comes to market. A few years ago, the latest fashions were those of the Archangels–in this case, the Archangel Gabriel.

The Niño Dios dressed as Peruvian San Martín de Porres, the patron saint of racially mixed people and all those seeking interracial harmony. He is always portrayed holding a broom.

Niño Dios de la Eucaristía (Holy Child of the Eucharist).

Niño Dios dressed as San Benito, the founder of the Benedictine Order.

Niño Dios dressed as a Chinelo (costumed dancer from the state of Morelos).

Niño Dios de la Abundancia (Holy Child of Abundance).

The ceremony of removing the baby Jesus from the nacimiento is called the levantamiento (lifting up). In a family ceremony, the baby is raised from his manger, gently dusted off, and dressed in his new finery. Some families sing:

QUIERES QUE TE QUITE MI BIEN DE LAS PAJAS, (Do you want me to brush off all the straw, my beloved)
QUIERES QUE TE ADOREN TODOS LOS PASTORES, (Do you want all the shepherds to adore you?)
QUIERES QUE TE COJA EN MIS BRAZOS Y CANTE (Do you want me to hold you in my arms and sing)
GLORIA A DIOS EN LAS ALTURAS. (Glory to God on high).

One of the most popular 'looks' for the Niño Dios in Mexico City is that of San Judas Tadeo, the patron saint of impossible causes. He is always dressed in green, white, and gold and has a flame coming from his head.

Mexico Cooks!' very own Niño Dios. He measures just 7" from the top of his head to his wee toes. His purple and gold finery is very elegant.

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This lovely video from Carapan, Michoacán shows both the gravity and the joy (and the confetti!) with which a Niño Dios is carried to the parish church.

Carefully, carefully carry the Niño Dios to the parish church, where the priest will bless him and his new clothing, along with you and your family. After Mass, take the baby Jesus home and put him safely to rest till next year's Christmas season. Sweet dreams of his next outfit will fill your own head as you sleep that night.

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28 de January de 2017
Mexico’s Independence Celebration: A Month of Fiestas Patrias

Street vendors hawk la bandera nacional (the Mexican flag) in dozens of forms for several weeks during August and right up to September 16, Mexico's Independence Day.

Mexico's official struggle for freedom from Spanish colonization began sometime between midnight and dawn on September 16, 1810, when Father Miguel Hidalgo gave the Grito de Dolores (Cry of Dolores) from the parish bell tower in the town known today as Dolores Hidalgo, Guanajuato. Mexico celebrates its day of Fiestas Patrias (Patriotic Holidays) on September 16 with parades of school children and military batallions, politicians proclaiming speeches, and general festivity.

Hundreds of books have been written about Mexico's break from Spain, millions of words have been dedicated to exploring the lives of the daring men and women who knew, a bit more than 200 years ago, that the time had come for freedom. You can read some of the history on the Internet. Another excellent source for Mexican history is The Life and Times of Mexico, by Earl Shorris. You'll find that book available on the left-hand side of this page.

But the best-kept secret in Mexico is the Independence Day party. No, the big deal is not on September 16th. Held every year on the night of September 15, the Gran Noche Mexicana (the Great Mexican Night), the real celebration of the revolutionary events in 1810, is a combination of New Year's Eve, your birthday, and your country's independence festivities. Wouldn't you really rather hear about the party?

Jalisco town kiosko (bandstand) decorated for the Fiestas Patrias.

For years I've attended the September 15 celebrations in a variety of towns and cities. In Mexico City, the country's president leads hundreds of thousands of citizens in late-night celebrations in the zócalo, the enormous square surrounded by government buildings and the Metropolitan Cathedral. Every Mexican town big enough to have a mayor holds a reenactment of the Grito de Dolores, Hidalgo's cry for independence. The town square is decorated with flags, bunting, and ribbons. Cohetes (sky rockets) flare and bang. Sometime around eleven o'clock at night, the folks, assembled in the town plaza since nine or so, are restless for the celebration to begin. The mayor's secretary peeks out from the doorway of the government offices, the folkloric dancers file off the stage in the plaza, the band tunes up for the Himno Nacional (the national anthem), the crowd waves its flags and hushes its jostling. The mayor steps out onto the balcony of the government building or onto the stage built just outside the building's front door to sing the Himno's emotional verses.

Dressed in his finest and backed up by a military or police guard, the mayor clears his throat and loudly begins an Independence Day proclamation. He pulls a heavy rope to ring the Independence bell, then he waves a huge Mexican flag. Back and forth, back and forth! In every Mexican town, the proclamation ends with Hidalgo's 205-year-old exhortations: "Long live religion! Long live Our Lady of Guadalupe! Long live the Americas and death to the corrupt government! Viva México! Qué viva!"

Father Hidalgo's 1810 banner. He carried this banner as his standard as a leader in the fight for Mexico's independence from Spain.

The mayor and the crowd shout as one voice: "Viva México! Qué viva! Qué viva!" The mayor grins and waves as the fireworks begin, bursting huge green, white, and red chrysanthemums over the heads of the attendees.

Later there will be dancing and more music, pozole, tostadas, mezcal, tequila and beer, and, in larger towns and cities, all-night revelry in the plaza, in private homes, and in hotels, restaurants, and events halls.

About five years ago my friend, música ranchera singer Lupita Jiménez from Guadalajara, invited me to a Gran Noche Mexicana where she was performing. The event was scheduled to start at 9.30, but Mexican custom normally dictates late arrival. By ten o'clock I was on my way to the party. At the salón de eventos (events hall) the parking lot was already full, but a man was parking cars on the street just a block away. As I left my car, he said, "Could you pay me now for watching your car? It's 20 pesos. I'll be leaving a little early, probably before the event is over."

"How long will you be here?" I asked, a bit anxious about leaving the car alone on this night of prodigious revelry.

Lupita Jiménez in performance at a Gran Noche Mexicana in Guadalajara.

"Till six." My jaw dropped and I handed him the 20 pesos. Six in the morning! Surely we wouldn't party quite so long as that!

The sad truth is that I didn't. I couldn't. My stamina flagged at about 3:00 AM, after dinner had been served at 10:30, a city politician had proclaimed the Grito, the Himno Nacional had been sung, and fireworks (I swear to you) had been set off on the indoor stage of the salón de eventos. Then the show started, a brief recapitulation in dance of Mexican history, starting with concheros (loincloth-clad Aztec dancers) whirling around a belching volcano, and ending with the glorious jarabe tapatía–the Guadalajara regional dance that most speakers of English know as the Mexican hat dance.

After innumerable trios, duets, and solo singers, the show paused for intermission at close to two in the morning. Several of my table-mates slipped away, but I thought I could make it to the end. The first half of the Gran Noche Mexicana had been invigorating and exciting and I loved it. During intermission, a wonderful Mexican comedian poked fun at politics, functionaries, and Mexican life in general. We were all roaring with laughter. When the comic left the stage, I realized that I was exhausted and needed to go home to bed. Just as the performers stepped onto the stage to begin the next round of song, I sneaked away.

When I called Lupita the next afternoon to congratulate her on the success of the event, she asked if I'd stayed for the last few costume changes. "Mija, I had to go home early. I lasted till three, but then I just couldn't stay awake. I'm so sorry I missed the end."

Lupita laughed. "I'm glad you lasted that long, but next time you have to stay for the whole night! You missed the best part!"

The Zócalo (main city plaza) in Mexico City, dressed up for the Fiestas Patrias.

Viva México! Qué viva!

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26 de September de 2015
Mexico Cooks!, Touring Off the Beaten Path

A November market tour in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán. I'm holding a mamey fruit. The mamey's scientific name is poutería sapote.

One of the great pleasures of my life is the number of tours Mexico Cooks! gives to lots of excited tourists. Small, specialized tours are a joy to organize: the participants generally have common interests, a thirst for knowledge, and a hunger for–well, for Mexico Cooks!' tour specialty: food and its preparation. Touring a food destination (a street market in Michoacán, an enclosed market in Guadalajara, a crawl through some Mexico City street stands, or meals in a series of upscale restaurants) is about far more than a brief look at a fruit, a vegetable, or a basket of freshly made tortillas.

A Pátzcuaro street vendor holds out a partially unwrapped tamal de trigo (wheat tamal). It's sweetened with piloncillo (Mexican raw sugar) and a few plump raisins, wrapped in corn husks, and steamed. Taste? It's all but identical to a bran muffin, and every tour participant enjoyed a pinch of it.

A tour planned to your specifications can lead you to places you didn't know you wanted to go, but that you would not have missed for the world. Here, Donna talks with the man who makes these enormous adobe bricks. He let her try to pick up the laden wheelbarrow. She could barely get its legs off the ground! He laughed, raised the handles, and whizzed away with his load.

Several times in recent years, small groups wanted to tour traditional bakeries in Mexico City. The photo shows one tiny corner of the enormous Pastelería La Ideal in the Centro Histórico. Just looking at the photo brings the sweet fragrances back to mind. And never mind the taste of the delicious pastries!

Ramon and Annabelle Canova wanted an introduction to how ordinary people live and shop in Guadalajara. We spent a highly entertaining morning at the Tianguis del Sol, a three-times-a-week outdoor market in Zapopan, a suburb of Guadalajara. Our first stop was for breakfast, then we shopped for unusual produce, fresh spices, and other goodies that the Canovas don't often see in their home town. Annabelle said she felt right at home because so much of the style and flavor of this market was similar to what she experienced in the markets near her home town in the Phillipines.

We went for comida (main meal of the day) to the original location of Guadalajara's Karne Garibaldi. The restaurant does one thing–carne en su jugo (meat in its juice)–and does it exceptionally well. The food is plentiful, delicious, and affordable. The place is always packed, and usually has a line to get in!

Ramon wanted to try tejuino, a regional specialty in the Guadalajara area. Mixed when you order it, the refreshing, lightly fermented drink is thickened with masa de maíz (corn dough) and served with a pinch of salt and a small scoop of lemon ice.

Pillars of nopal cactus paddles, taller than a man, at Mercado de la Merced, Mexico City. La Merced is the largest retail market in Mexico, if not in all of Latin America. It's the ultimate market experience and just a partial tour takes the best part of a morning. Comfortable walking shoes are a necessity–let's go!

A more intimate, up-close-and-personal Mexico City market tour takes us through the Mercado San Juan. The San Juan is renowned for its gourmet selection of meats, fish and shellfish, cheeses, and wild mushrooms–among a million other things you might not expect to find.

Pepitorias are a sweet specialty of Mexico's capital city. Crunchy and colorful obleas (wafers) enclose sticky syrup and squash seeds. Mexico Cooks!' tour groups usually try these at the Bazar Sábado in San Ángel.

Lovely and fascinating people and events are around almost any Mexican corner. The annual Festival Internacional de Música de Morelia opens every year with several blocks of carpets made of flowers. Residents of Patamban, Michoacán work all night to create the carpets for the festival. This piano is made entirely of plant material. Enlarge any picture for a closer view.

Entire flowers, fuzzy pods, and flower petals are used to create the carpets' ephemeral beauty and design; these carpets last two days at most.

In November 2012, one of Mexico Cooks!' tours was dazzled by a special Morelia concert given by Tania Libertad. With Tania is Rosalba Morales Bartolo, a fabulous traditional cook from San Jerónimo, Michoacán, who presented the artist with various handcrafted items from the state–including the lovely coral necklace and rebozo (shawl) that Tania is wearing.

No matter where we start our tour and no matter what we plan together for your itinerary, a Mexico Cooks! tour always includes a terrific surprise or two, special memories to take home, and the thirst for more of Mexico. Marvey Chapman had a wonderful time! By all means come and enjoy a tour!

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.

27 de June de 2015
Violin Shop Querétaro: Laudero (Luthier) Alejandro Díaz Martínez

Irene Adriana Carrasco (Judy's former cello teacher, foreground) and Judy, rehearsing in our Morelia garden, just before the guests arrived for Judy's mini-recital in April 2009. It was a delightful evening spent among friends.

Living with a cello is lovely when its deep-voiced, sweet music pours out of the rehearsal room. Occasionally the tone is so beautiful that tears spring to my eyes. Living with a cello is not so lovely when the cello suddenly changes its tune, as Judy's did about six months ago. After a number of attempts to give the instrument a quick fix, she decided it needed more radical treatment. Her then-cello teacher, Irene Adriana Carrasco, recommended Maestro Alejandro Díaz Martínez of Violin Shop Querétaro, in the state of Querétaro, and offered to take Judy's cello to him for a consultation. A few days later, rather than send the cello with Irene, Judy and I visited Maestro Alejandro in his taller (workshop).

Maestro Alejandro Díaz with Judy's cello. Maestro Alejandro is a Morelia native with deep family roots in the city.

With a twinkle in his eye, Maestro Alejandro recounted a bit of his history. "I liked the idea of studying architecture, of designing a building and watching it come to life. But I also liked studying music, especially the violin. When I was almost finished with my architectural studies, after three years at the Universidad de Michoacán de San Nicolás de Hidalgo, I had to switch. Some people thought I was crazy to quit my architectural studies when I was so close to finishing my degree, but it was something inside me that I could no longer deny: I had to study violin. It was a passion.

Clamps and other tools of the luthier's trade hang at the ready.

"I dropped my architectural courses and went to study violin at the Conservatorio de México in Mexico City. Fortunately my parents, the rest of my family, and my friends supported my idea. Four years of hard work were all worthwhile. I was honored to study with Arón Bitrán, one of the founders of the Cuarteto Latinoamericano. My grades were good and I loved to play, but something new was happening to me. I discovered another path, that of the laudero (luthier): building and repairing stringed instruments. It was risky to take yet another direction, but it was so fascinating! And in some ways, laudería combined my love of architecture with my love of music. It made sense to me, and once again, with the help of some friends, I made a new decision.

One of Maestro Alejandro's several work benches. It may look disorganized, but he knows exactly where to find what he needs.

"In 1985, I was studying violin for six hours a day, then studying for six hours a day at the taller de laudero (luthier's workshop) with Maestro Luthfi Becker, who specializes in baroque instruments. I built my first violin during that same year, and I graduated in 1987 with six others, the first generación de lauderos (luthiers' graduating class) in Mexico City.

A violin in process of repair.

"In 1992, I came to Querétaro, where the Instituto de Bellas Artes in Mexico City founded the Escuela de Laudería in the mid-1950s. In 1993, I started teaching at the school, and I've been giving classes here for 16 years. I have nine students right now. They're studying the full course that leads to licenciatura (similar to a bachelor's degree) in laudería.

Various tools for cutting, piercing, and sanding new parts for stringed instruments.

Maestro Alejandro removed the top of the cello, made and replaced the bass bar, and re-glued the top. He kept the top clamped until the glue was thoroughly dry. Photo courtesy Alejandro Díaz.

"Learning laudería requires tremendous discipline. It's not just about patching up an instrument that needs repair, using any wood you happen to have on hand. The course consists of ten semesters and includes studies in everything from the biology of wood to the history of instrument building. For example, when I looked inside Judy's cello, I could tell the age of the trees used in its construction–by the rings of the wood. I could see the type tree the wood came from, and I can tell you exactly where those trees grow. I could also approximate the age of the wood itself, when it was used to build the cello.

Erick Iván Díaz Garcia polishes Judy's cello. Erick has studied with Maestro Alejandro for two years. The long program of studies for luthiers at the Universidad Autónoma de Querétaro is unique in Mexico.

"One of the joys of laudería is receiving an instrument, whether an ancient violin or a late-20th Century cello like Judy's, and bringing it to its fullest expression of tone, resonance, and beauty. The instrument that still gives me chills when I think of its restoration is an 18th Century violin that came to me in dire condition. The 'stomach' of the violin was sunken, the bridge feet were dug into the top of the violin. Little by little I used my skills–traditonal skills as well as inventions that I thought up to overcome the obstacles of the violin's condition–and slowly brought the instrument back to life. The violin's owner, Cathy Meng Robinson of the Miami String Quartet, insists that the quality of the instrument since I repaired it is better than a Stradivarius violin that she owns.

Maestro Alejandro explains a fine point of cello repair.

"Lauderos in other parts of the world–in the United States, for example–would like me to go work in their talleres, even take ownership of their workshops. But how could I? Here in Mexico, there are so few of us, maybe 100 fully trained lauderos. I have the responsibility and the joy to teach the lauderos of the future, and to rescue the instruments of the past. Here in Mexico, I have such a full life: my family, my work, my students. Compared to the fullness of my life right now, what could more money, the money people in other countries promise me for my work, give me? My son is 15; he studies violin and will soon study with me to follow in my footsteps. My daughter is only nine; her future is yet to be told. Laudería gives me the chance to know the world, from the United States to Canada to Cremona. And look–I've just begun, and already happiness fills my life."

Contact
Alejandro Díaz Martínez
Violin Shop Querétaro
Calle Ángela Peralta#19
Centro Histórico
Santiago de Querétaro, Guanajuato
Tel. 01.442.243.1488
Cel. 044.442.136.9128

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.

2 de May de 2015
Tamaliza (Tamales Feast) with Dear Friends on February 2: El Día de la Candelaria

Mexico Cooks!' dear friends Edmundo Escamilla Solís (L) and Yuri de Gortari Krauss. Between them, Yuri and Mundo know more about Mexico's history and its cuisines than most of the rest of our friends put together. I can't imagine that anyone would disagree. Photo courtesy wradio.com.mx. All photos by Mexico Cooks! unless otherwise noted.

Several years ago, mutual friends introduced Mexico Cooks! to Edmundo Escamilla and Yuri de Gortari. Within minutes, we realized that we were in the presence of two of Mexico's treasures. Far from being museum pieces or distant ruins, these men are a vibrant, living storehouse of this country's past and present. Today, my wife and I are honored to count Mundo and Yuri among our dearest friends. We don't see one another as often as any of us would like–they're busy, we're busy–but the moments we spend together are precious.

The double stairway into the Escuela de Gastronomía Mexicana (Esgamex, School of Mexican Gastronomy), Colonia Roma, Distrito Federal. Since 1990, Yuri and Mundo have dedicated themselves to an in-depth study of Mexico's gastronomy; after running a restaurant and catering company, they founded the school in 2007. Esgamex is unique among culinary schools in Mexico, teaching not only Mexico's regional and national cuisines, but also teaching Mexico's history, art, and culture. Although the school offers no program leading to a culinary degree, it continues to attract students who want to learn traditional recipes from the best teaching team in the city.

A few weeks ago, my wife and I received an invitation from Yuri and Mundo–please come share our tamaliza (tamales party) on the night of February 2, el Día de la Candelaria (Candlemas Day). An intimate circle of friends gathered in homage to a close friend of our hosts, who had passed away. In her honor, we ate tamales–and more tamales–five varieties in all.

First were tamales de cambray, from Chiapas. These corn masa (dough) tamales, wrapped in banana leaves and steamed, were savory and delicious.

Tamal de cambray unwrapped. Each tamal was small enough to leave us hungry for the ones that followed.

The tamal de cambray cut open to show its savory filling.

This rectangular, flat tamal de cazón is filled with flaked baby shark meat. It's a specialty of the state of Campeche.

A marvelously spicy salsa made with chile habanero accompanied the tamal de cazón.

The next three varieties of tamales looked almost identical to one another. Each was wrapped in corn husks and steamed–but despite appearances, each was very different from the other. The first variety was a tamal de pollo, frutas, y verduras (chicken, fruit, and vegetables) from the state of Sinaloa. The second was our first sweet tamal of the evening. A tamal from the state of Colima, its masa is prepared with mixed corn and rice flours as well as dried coconut. The sweet filling is a mix of various dried and crystallized chopped fruits.

The last (but definitely not the least!) tamal was a tamal de almendra (almond). The masa contains not only corn and rice flours and sugar, but also blanched, peeled, and finely ground almonds. The almonds both sweeten and give texture to the masa. And sweet surprise!, the tamal is filled with sweet crema pastelera (pastry cream). If we had had one inch of space in our stomachs, we each would definitely have eaten two of these!

[youtube=://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HonJ3sz8HOw&w=420&h=220]
Here's Yuri de Gortari, teaching the proper way to prepare tamales de almendra. Even if you don't understand all of the Spanish-language instructions, you'll be fascinated by his teaching manner as well as his techniques. And his lovely speaking voice is simply hypnotizing.

When our group finished eating, we stayed for hours in the sobremesa–the after-dinner conversation that is frequently as delicious and nourishing as the food itself. What better way to enjoy an evening than in the company of precious friends, sharing ideas, feelings, and loving laughter? Next year, have a tamaliza at your home on February 2, invite your friends, and deepen your love and appreciation for one another–and of course for the marvelous cuisines of Mexico.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.

8 de February de 2014