Hospitable Restaurants and Prices in Oaxaca, ‘Land of the Seven Moles’

On the gentle evening in June when my husband and I arrived in the southern Mexico state of Oaxaca, we headed straight for the town’s zocalo , or central plaza. Everyone was there. Women were selling gardenias and men were grilling corn, and although the square was packed with people, the sounds were the muted ones of children chasing balloons and adults out for an evening of gossip.

The zocalo is designed in Spanish colonial style with an important-looking white filigreed bandstand built up high in the center. Generous shade trees and benches line its pathways and the perimeter is framed with sidewalk cafes under classic archways.

As the city’s social center, it is the perfect spot to sit with a cold beer or cafe con leche (coffee with warmed milk) and a plate of antojitos (snacks), and slow the pulse a bit with some leisurely people watching. It is also a fine place to practice the phrase sin hielos , or without ice, essential words when ordering cold drinks.

We came to Oaxaca to sample the cuisine considered by many aficionados to be the most intriguing in Mexico. For although Oaxaca lies only 250 miles south of cosmopolitan Mexico City (about a one-hour flight across the Sierra Madre del Sur Mountains), it retains the strongest Indian identity of any Mexican state.

Over the centuries, its people have created a complex cuisine blending the foods of the Zapotec and Mixtec Indians--with just a little help from the Spanish conquistadors. This is not the land of tacos al carbon or simply grilled lobster and fish. Instead, this is a country of inscrutable, long-simmering sauces, perhaps best epitomized by moles.

To the rest of Mexico, Oaxaca is known as “the land of the seven moles.” Often misunderstood in the United States as a simple dish of chocolate-covered turkey, moles are really complex stews comprised of various dried roasted chiles, tomatoes, seeds, nuts, fruits, herbs, spices and, sometimes , a dash of chocolate.

The common thread is that the main ingredient--be it chicken, turkey, beef, pork or duck--is an afterthought. The sauce, and there is plenty of it, is the main idea. It may range in color from the familiar deep-brown mole poblano to a green one of herbs and seeds or a red chile coloradito .

Oaxaquenos are justly proud of their moles, and although there may be some disagreement about their true number--anywhere between seven and 107, according to the locals with whom I spoke--there is a general agreement about the proper way to eat such a rich fiesta dish. It should always be preceded by a shot of the local mescal, in order to “ease it down” and eliminate any gastric turbulence.

My husband will have to attest to that, though. I was six months pregnant at the time and hence condemned to soft drinks and sparkling water-- sin hielos-- with my mole.

Dining out in Oaxaca is a pleasure. Though it is a capital city, the population of about 400,000 moves at a slow pace and has not yet heard of competitive restaurant dining. As a result, restaurant reservations are unnecessary. We were able to walk into the restaurant of our choice any time between 2 and 10 p.m., and be politely seated and served. (Mexicans traditionally take a large midday meal, or comida , any time between 2 and 5 p.m., then eat a light supper after 8). During our stay, in early June, the restaurants were never overcrowded.

Prices are similarly hospitable. Except perhaps for the dining room at the five-star Stouffer Presidente Hotel, you would be hard pressed to run up a tab of more than $40 for dinner for two at any restaurant in town.

We began our eating in earnest at Mi Casitas, located on the northwest corner of the zocalo , and open only for the midday meal. It is a gracious, unpretentious place serving a wide variety of carefully prepared regional specialties. There we tasted a delicate quesadilla of Oaxacan string cheese and squash blossoms that made our American quesadillas seem clumsy by comparison. It was cooked on a dry comal , or griddle, just until the cheese melted over the crisp flowers and the fresh, soft corn tortilla took on a slightly charred flavor.

Equally delicious, if somewhat more complicated in nature, was a soft corn taco stuffed with bits of chicken in a many-layered black mole sauce, and chicken almendrado , a dish of baked chicken served in a plateful of ground almond sauce seasoned with roasted tomatoes and garlic. For the more intrepid traveler, chalupines, or deep-fried grasshoppers, a local specialty, were available for the asking. That is, unless you are pregnant.

Our waiter, seeing me more as a pregnant gringo than an intrepid traveler, advised us against ordering a plateful--advice I still regret following. (My husband, however, was thankful for the excuse.)

El Asador Vasco, on the opposite side of the square, is a restaurant in the familiar international “continental” tradition. It comes complete with costumed waitresses, strolling musicians, a well-stocked bar and a great view of the square.

The food, essentially from Spain via Mexico City, can be a welcome relief for overworked taste buds. We ordered pork loin served in a thick, garlic-scented brown citrus gravy and accompanied by a mound of good mashed potatoes. Red snapper was served whole, drizzled with olive oil and generous slivers of dried chile and garlic. Overall, the food tasted fine, if a bit safe, but the view and service were lovely.

For any true culinary explorer, a visit to a local market is as important as packing Pepto Bismol. The Veinte de Noviembre market, just two blocks west of the zocalo , delivers the kind of sights, sounds and smells that spell spiritual manna for the food buff.

In addition to beautifully arranged produce and the most brilliantly colored tropical juice bar I have ever seen, there were stalls specializing in fresh and dried chiles, fresh flowers, herbal remedies, fresh dairy products including the salty native string cheese, quesilla , and every herb and spice necessary to the Mexican kitchen.

Indian women along the market’s outskirts and alleyways hawked homemade tortillas, kept caliente in their beautifully woven baskets and carefully cleaned cactus paddles, or nopales , which were neatly arranged on trays for the busy cook to pick up on the way home for soup and salad making.

The seasonings, pastes and packaged moles are said to be among the best available outside private kitchens. And although I took a vow to my obstetrician not to eat market food, I have it from reliable sources that the prepared foods sold at the market were among the most authentic available.

The high point of this particular gastronomic whirlwind, however, was a visit to the tiny village of Teotitlan del Valle, 30 minutes outside Oaxaca on the Pan American Highway on the way to the ruins at Mitla.

There, in a town known primarily for its weaving, Abigail Mendoz Ruiz and her sister Rosario run an immaculate little one-room Zapotecan restaurant called Tlamanalli with the same care and attention to detail as the most worldly four-star restaurateurs.

On the day we visited, Abigail cooked a beautiful sopa de nopalitos , or cactus paddle soup, as colorful as all Mexico with chiles, peas, roasted tomatoes, dried shrimp and delicate egg shreds filling in the spaces between the cactus. We also had large, unctuous chicken tamales steamed in banana leaves, a subtly flavored chicken in green mole garnished with zucchini, green beans and cactus and chicken pipian , or chicken in pumpkin seed sauce.

Fruity mango ices and poached miniature pears in a sugar syrup, along with a cupful of house mescal (for my husband) were perfect light finishes to this delicately balanced, refined meal.

The weavers of the town, many of whom live on the main street, leave the doors of their homes open for visitors to enter and view their wares.

As we negotiated for the kind of hand-woven geometric rugs we had previously pined for on Montana Avenue in Santa Monica, we also caught a glimpse of the simple vegetable herb gardens planted out back and the turkeys and chickens who live there until their time is up.

All in all, our side trip to Teotitlan gave us a clearer picture of village life in Oaxaca and we wished we had allowed more time to visit the surrounding villages that specialize in crafts such as ceramics, the brightly painted wooden animals so popular in the United States and metal work. But our mission on this particular trip was food, so we drove back to town in time for a siesta and dinner instead.

Back in Oaxaca, there are two more eating stops worth mentioning. Both are within steps of the baroque 16th-Century church of Santo Domingo and the Presidente Hotel, a beautifully preserved former convent from the same century.

El Topil, a small casual restaurant, serves the bean, tortilla and rice dishes that are closer to the way people really eat in this part of the world than most restaurant food. The enfrijolladas (tortillas folded in bean sauce), chilaquiles (a casserole of tortillas, salsa and cheese) and entomatadoes (similar to enchiladas) all make good, inexpensive small meals.

And when you need a break from the serious job of eating exotic foods there is always Sol Y Luna, a jazz club, art gallery and restaurant. It specializes in salads and desert crepes, including one traditional version in a caramel-like cajeta sauce of sugar and burnt goat’s milk.

Pizza is popular here, too. Mine came with a basic topping of tomato sauce and cheese. After all, even the most indefatigable food voyager sometimes yearns for a little taste of home and perhaps some comfort for the baby.

GUIDEBOOK

Sampling Moles

in Oaxaca

Recommended:

Mi Casita, 616 Avenida Hidalgo, second floor. Open for lunch until 7 p.m. Lunch for two, with beer, about $35.

El Asador Vasco, Portal de Flores, Cocalo, second floor. Dinner for two, with drinks, about $35.

Restaurant Tlamanalli, 39 Avenida Juarez, Teotitlan del Valle. Open for lunch only. Lunch for two, about $30.

El Topil, 1094 Plazuela Labastida. Lunch or dinner for two, about $10.

Sol Y Luna, 105 Marguia. Dinner or late-night supper for two, about $20.