Tripas.
Wednesday, March 14, 2018
Oaxacan market
carnecerria
Miguel B. Corrigan
Assistant Dean for BUS/FIN/MKT, NVCC-Loudoun
Associate Professor of BUS/FIN/MKT, NVCC-Loudoun
Assistant Dean for BUS/FIN/MKT, NVCC-Loudoun
Associate Professor of BUS/FIN/MKT, NVCC-Loudoun
2014 Fulbright Teaching Scholar, SVRIA, Saratov, Russia
mcorrigan@nvcc.edu703-450-2615
Oaxaca, Monday
Monday was a bit of a lazy morning. As I was wandering on Sunday, I noticed a popular little lunch spot around the corner from our hotel that looked very "local" and seemed to specialize in tacos. I mentioned to Janet and we popped over for lunch. First sign of warning---one menu----dug out from somewhere near the register. None of the locals were using menus. Patrons included what appeared to be couples, families with young kids, working types both men and women, salesmen, and motorcycle messengers. We ordered beers and looked at the completely undecipherable menu. No chicken tacos but something called pollo tinga which they couldn't explain. No fish tacos, but we managed to order a fried whole fish for Janet. I tries to order beef tacos BUT...it turns out the whole place is devoted to tacos made from the head of the cow----my choices through sign language were cheek tacos OR tongue. I chose cheek. Good but.......sort of weird in texture. Very fatty, very soft. Janet's fish was good but a lot of bones. My tacos were....interesting. Two beers each and food. Less than $10.
Back to the room for reconnaissance and then we set off for the large market near the zocalo. The zocalo is old school cool. Same as it was 35 years ago just now everyone has a cell phone. Covered cafes ring the whole thing. Beautiful old church. Hordes of tourists....many Euros. Working classes. Professionals. Everything is being sold by somebody. Balloons, candy, toys, musicians, beggars, Indians, upper class dudes, schoolkids, cuddling teenagers, ancient people, cripples, the blind. A smorgasbord of humans. We duck into the market and it is overwhelming. Mezcal, flowers, clothing new and used, leather, textiles, jewelry, coffee, sweets, baked goods, chapulines, moles everywhere(the completely unique Oaxacan sauces), fish, beef, tripe, and rows of yellow plucked chickens with the head on----the smell of the chickens couple with the beef cheek sitting in my tummy made me, shall we say, slightly nauseous. We bought flowers for our room and some coffee. The place is amazing. Smells, sights, and sounds overwhelm in a good way. It reminded me of the old market in Saratov, Russia,....when I went for the first time, my friend Stepan Orlov helped me buy beans(facol in Russian). They have beans here too....but literally dozens of dried varieties. Beans are my thing. I will certainly be back. It occurs to me often now. I could live here.
We are back for a nap and then off to eat after some more time at the pool. Hotel advertises that no kids allowed under 13. Not true. Loud grandma. Loud grandpa. Loud mom. Loud male au-pair type. Quiet dad. Infernally loud and annoying 8 year old girl with lungs like a hippo is in the pool screaming for literally 5 hours. She is still there screaming and playing pool volleyball when we return in the evening. Ugh. They talk and act like they are the only humans on the planet. oh...and of course American.
Dinner is a great little mescal and dining place nearby. Great service. I have ribs with a sublime mole sauce. Liquor quarenta y tres for a nightcap. In bed by ten
Back to the room for reconnaissance and then we set off for the large market near the zocalo. The zocalo is old school cool. Same as it was 35 years ago just now everyone has a cell phone. Covered cafes ring the whole thing. Beautiful old church. Hordes of tourists....many Euros. Working classes. Professionals. Everything is being sold by somebody. Balloons, candy, toys, musicians, beggars, Indians, upper class dudes, schoolkids, cuddling teenagers, ancient people, cripples, the blind. A smorgasbord of humans. We duck into the market and it is overwhelming. Mezcal, flowers, clothing new and used, leather, textiles, jewelry, coffee, sweets, baked goods, chapulines, moles everywhere(the completely unique Oaxacan sauces), fish, beef, tripe, and rows of yellow plucked chickens with the head on----the smell of the chickens couple with the beef cheek sitting in my tummy made me, shall we say, slightly nauseous. We bought flowers for our room and some coffee. The place is amazing. Smells, sights, and sounds overwhelm in a good way. It reminded me of the old market in Saratov, Russia,....when I went for the first time, my friend Stepan Orlov helped me buy beans(facol in Russian). They have beans here too....but literally dozens of dried varieties. Beans are my thing. I will certainly be back. It occurs to me often now. I could live here.
We are back for a nap and then off to eat after some more time at the pool. Hotel advertises that no kids allowed under 13. Not true. Loud grandma. Loud grandpa. Loud mom. Loud male au-pair type. Quiet dad. Infernally loud and annoying 8 year old girl with lungs like a hippo is in the pool screaming for literally 5 hours. She is still there screaming and playing pool volleyball when we return in the evening. Ugh. They talk and act like they are the only humans on the planet. oh...and of course American.
Dinner is a great little mescal and dining place nearby. Great service. I have ribs with a sublime mole sauce. Liquor quarenta y tres for a nightcap. In bed by ten
Sunday is our first full day in Oaxaca. We went to bed around midnight, exhausted from the long series of flights. Our little hotel, La Casa de la Tia Tere is very centrally located and provides breakfast from 7:30am-to 11am! Little bananas, mangoes, watermelon, tea, coffee, cereal, and EGGS made to order! Janet and I have juevos revueltos a la Mexicana....wonderfully scrambled with tomatoes and spicy peppers. We then hit the streets of Oaxaca, heading towards the church of Santo Domingo de Guzman. it is impressive of course with all types of folks lounging around and various street sellers propositioning you mildly. We walk north of the church for a while exploring. Oaxaca's center is easy to navigate, all square blocks with mountain views in every direction. We pass a man playing accordion beautifully...his little girl with a collection plate. I am bummed because I don't yet have the proper change and I always like to tip a musician. I hope to find him again this week.
We come to sort of the edge of the downtown and turn around. The streets here are all beautiful cobblestone or stone and there are countless choices--little shops, street vendors, tiny restaurants. We decide to enter the Museo de las Culturas de Oaxaca right next to the church above. It is fantastic, tracing the history of Oaxaca---Zapotec then Mixtec, then Aztec, then the pinche Spanish. A huge oil painting of Cortez is spooky. The gold, turquoise, jade jewelry is amazing. Masks, weapons too, but the gold is simply out of this world. They wrapped everything in gold leaf and some of the pieces defy logic---such delicate, complicated, often tiny figures. Everything is in Spanish and we didn't have a guide, we managed to account for ourselves OK. The building itself is spectacular with open views in all directions. The curatorial talent here is impressive. Everything is beautifully displayed and explained with little rooms everywhere filled with treasure. After a couple of hours of walking on all this stone, my lower back begins to ache and we look for a place to sit and eat. We happen upon a nice little artisan mescal restaurant and get a huge order of guacamole and sample the spirits.A guy wheels out a cart, lets us sample a bunch of varietal mezcals...we try a sip of several. I knock down a oaky, inexpensive glass and then we are on to some Anejo, golden, peaty, scotchy almost. Delicious. The guac was supposed to come with chapulines, little fried, toasty grasshoppers, spiced up with lime, chili, salt. This is a no go for my beautiful wife and I ask for it without the chapulines. Still excellent. The service is great and friendly. After an hour or so we head back to our little hotel oasis and get in the pool. We have a second floor room with a fridge, range, and sink overlooking this pool. We while away the afternoon, reading our New Yorkers and planning future endeavors.
We come to sort of the edge of the downtown and turn around. The streets here are all beautiful cobblestone or stone and there are countless choices--little shops, street vendors, tiny restaurants. We decide to enter the Museo de las Culturas de Oaxaca right next to the church above. It is fantastic, tracing the history of Oaxaca---Zapotec then Mixtec, then Aztec, then the pinche Spanish. A huge oil painting of Cortez is spooky. The gold, turquoise, jade jewelry is amazing. Masks, weapons too, but the gold is simply out of this world. They wrapped everything in gold leaf and some of the pieces defy logic---such delicate, complicated, often tiny figures. Everything is in Spanish and we didn't have a guide, we managed to account for ourselves OK. The building itself is spectacular with open views in all directions. The curatorial talent here is impressive. Everything is beautifully displayed and explained with little rooms everywhere filled with treasure. After a couple of hours of walking on all this stone, my lower back begins to ache and we look for a place to sit and eat. We happen upon a nice little artisan mescal restaurant and get a huge order of guacamole and sample the spirits.A guy wheels out a cart, lets us sample a bunch of varietal mezcals...we try a sip of several. I knock down a oaky, inexpensive glass and then we are on to some Anejo, golden, peaty, scotchy almost. Delicious. The guac was supposed to come with chapulines, little fried, toasty grasshoppers, spiced up with lime, chili, salt. This is a no go for my beautiful wife and I ask for it without the chapulines. Still excellent. The service is great and friendly. After an hour or so we head back to our little hotel oasis and get in the pool. We have a second floor room with a fridge, range, and sink overlooking this pool. We while away the afternoon, reading our New Yorkers and planning future endeavors.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)