Food is my gateway to understanding culture. Whether I’m learning to make pozole in Oaxaca, sharing a meal in rural France, or discovering hole-in-the-wall restaurants in Bangkok, I believe the best way to know a place is through its flavors. These posts celebrate the universal language of good food and the stories it tells.
Oaxaca city is full of wonderful markets bursting with amazing produce. Many of them are unassuming, tucked away through a doorway, down an alleyway, or around the corner. Access to fresh & delicious produce is one of my absolute favourite things about living in Mexico.
Before you go: produce markets in Oaxaca
I’m yet to find a mercado that’s disappointed me, they all have excellent produce for sale. I’d recommend visiting a few different ones to get a feel for it, but ultimately the one closest to where you are living or staying is probably going to be the best choice.
This is far from a comprehensive guide! But a couple of my favourite mercados (markets) in Oaxaca Centro are:
Mercado Sánchez Pascuas
Mercado Organico la Cosecha
Mercado de la Merced
Mercado de abastos
Mercado Centenario
At the market: buying your produce
Once you’ve decided which vendor to shop from, the next step is choosing what to buy. They will have a stack of some kind of basket or plastic tub for you to take one, and fill it with the fruits and vegetables you want.
Now is the fun part – choosing what you want to buy from the many piles of gorgeous looking fruits and vegetables. I always come home with so much more than I planned, because all of the wonderful produce is so tempting! So get to work, filling up your basket.
Sometimes, certain things like fresh herbs will be behind the counter. So if you don’t see what you want right away, don’t be afraid to ask!
One your basket is full, hand it to them and they will weigh up, count, and work out the price for you. If you struggle with Spanish, they will almost always have a pen and paper or a calculator to write the total down for you as well.
At the market: some useful words & phrases in Spanish
Although you may come across vendors who speak some English, a large majority of them will not. And besides, your visiting one of the most beautiful and traditional parts of Mexico – so using one of the local languages is not only part of the experience, but it’s part of being a considerate guest!
Estoy buscando / I’m looking for
¿Tienes …? / Do you have … ?
Necesito una bolsa / I need a bag
No necesito bolsa / I don’t need a bag
¿Cuánto cuesta? / How much is this?
¿Cuánto va a ser? / How much will it be?
¿Aceptan tarjetas de crédito o débito? / Do you take credit or debit cards?
¿Tiene cambio de un billete grande? / Do you have change for a large bill?
¡Muchas gracias! / Thanks very much!
aguacate / avocado
tomate / tomato
cebolla / onion
tomatillo / tomatillo
plátano / banana
manzana / apple
frambuesa / rasberry
mora / blackberry
arándano / blueberry
fresa / strawberry
papa / potato
toronja / grapefruit
naranja / orange
limón / lime
champiñón / mushroom
zanahoria / carrot
ejote / green beans
mango / mango
guayaba / guava
piña / pineapple
carambolo / starfruit
lechuga / lettuce
espinacas / spinach
pepino / cucumber
rábano/ radish
At the market: what does produce cost in Oaxaca?
The pricing for produce here is quite different from the USA, New Zealand, or Canada; for example. I love arriving into Mexico and enjoying the abundance of fresh, seasonal, and locally grown produce. But what does it cost? Here’s a breakdown of my most recent produce trip to the mercado:
Total price: $269mxn (at the time of writing in 2022 this is $12.79USD)
Once you get home: preparing your produce
Many of the things that make produce in Oaxaca so darn wonderful also make it a little problematic to eat right out of the bag. This is not a situation unique to Oaxaca, and is something you will encounter right across Mexico.
Everything is grown locally, often organically, and fertilised here in the Oaxaca valley with cow manure. Once it arrives at the mercado, as well as during the journey, it’s often sitting on the ground, in the dust, or on dirty truck beds and mercado floors. The dirt and bacteria that produce collects can make many people sick, so it’s important to prepare your produce properly – like locals & restaurants all do.
How to prepare fresh produce from the market in Mexico. This is done right when you get home from the mercado, before putting them away into the fridge and cupboards! It can take a little time, but it’s worth it to know all of your fruits, vegetables & salads are safe to eat right off the shelf.
Trim & shake
Shake off any visible dirt, and trim off things like roots, old leaves, and any parts of the fruit or vegetable which look undesirable/bad. It’ll go a long way to cleaning them if the dirt is already off!
Rinse them off
Take your produce and give them a rinse off in some water to get any loose dirt and particals off, it doesn’t need to be purified water at this point – under the tap is just fine
Soak & Sanitise
You can buy microdyn from just about any supermarket, and many mini-marts and oxxos. It’s a disinfecting liquid, and you add a few drops to a bowl of water, then put in your produce to soak. I tend to leave things up to 15 minutes – especially those which collect a lot of dirt and don’t have a peel or skin, such as lettuces and fresh herbs.
Some fruits in particular such as rasberries and strawberries can become waterlogged, so in those cases I soak them a bit less and/or use a separate citrus seed oil spray on them.
Drain & dry
Once they are finished soaking, leave them to dry. I like using a drying rack, or a colander. The most important thing is to place them somewhere clean, and not right back on the surface you were preparing the pre-soaked produce on.
Into the fridge and onto the shelves!
Now, place your produce however you like to store them. It doesn’t matter how, the main thing here is that you don’t put them back into the bags or containers they arrived in unless the containers have also been thoroughly washed & sanitised. Otherwise you will just be undoing all your hard work!
I am many different things, but three of the most prominent of those are an avid researcher, borderline obsessive foodie, and Mexico fangirl. This cocktail means that I arrived back in Mexico armed with an enormous amount of lists, mostly centered around where (and what) to eat in Puerto Vallarta.
Having spent most of my previous time in Mexico based out of Oaxaca, I was prepared for the food to be different. Jalisco is famed for tequila, birria & torta ahogada; quite the change from the lands of mezcal, chocolate, & mole I’d come to know.
To say I was eager was an understatement. Armed with my encyclopaedia-reminiscent lists, and guided by what was nearby in barrio Las Canoas where we were to start our adventure. So in this edition, the restaurants are all around the Emiliano Zapata (Zona Romántica), Centro, and 5 de Diciembre areas.
Without further ado, here are the best restaurants I tried in my first month of Puerto Vallarta.
A Handy Map of Restaurants in Puerto Vallarta
In case you’d like to try any of the places mentioned in this post, you can find them all in the map below:
I did my research, and Marisma was touted as one of the best fish taco spots in town. This made it one of my first stops after a number of years away from Mexico and yep, I would agree – excellent fish tacos. My favourites still come from Puerto Escondido, but these are a perfectly wonderful alternative.
Marisma has a well priced menu of baja-style fish, and other seafood, tacos – but the real drawcard is the awesome selection of salsas that come along with them. I trotted down in the mid afternoon and was treated to the whole stall to myself – but be warned, this place is popular and I hear amasses quite the queue around mealtimes.
Baja style fish tacos from marismo fish tacos in Puerto Vallarta
We arrived into Puerto Vallarta in search of Chilaquiles – my favourite Mexican breakfast food. I’m still not convinced that anywhere does them as well as Oaxaca, but I was willing to have my mind changed. So, I did my research. Cuates y Cuetes came up as a perfectly excellent choice to not only eat some chilaquiles, but also curl my toes into the sand & hear the ocean lapping whilst I did so.
Since that first visit, we’ve been back here more often than just about anywhere else. The view is amazing, the staff are unbeatable, and they make an excellent margarita. I love to bring guests to Puerto Vallarta here, and continue to recommend it.
A newcomer to the far, top end of Zona Romantica, Fonda el Cucon was one of the most convenient restaurants to our AirBnB in the Las Canoas neighbourhood. Immediately, we were welcomed like locals. Ever since, we’ve been welcomed back as friends. The food is wonderful, and I cannot recommend this little spot enough. Great for any meal of the day, I am particularly fond of their red enchilada sauce.
Best tacos in town, as it turns out, is a completely subjective thing. But Pepe’s has my vote, every time. I especially love their Hawaiian on a crispy tortilla – just amazing. But so far, nothing we’ve ordered has been disappointing. The el pastor is worth the walk on it’s own. Open late, super quick, always delicious – no complaints from me!
Soco’s place is a small joint on the corner in the riverside corner of Emiliano Zapata. We only went their the one time, so I don’t have a lot to say. But the chilaquiles were great, and that’s all that really matters … right?
River Cafe is always bustling. Maybe it’s the placement right on the Isla Rio Cuale in the heart of the tourist zone, maybe it’s the wonderful live jazz. Most likely, it’s the gorgeous tranquil paradise they’ve created on the edge of the river.
The food here is fine – it’s good, but the real attraction is the atmosphere. Go here for the experience of being here and enjoy a hidden paradise amongst the bustling Centro city area.
El Banquito is a tiny lunch spot in the heart of centro, just off the beaten tourist trail. It quickly became a beloved lunch stop of ours, and now we eat there frequently. They are most known for their (excellent) birria tacos, however the cubano torta is well worth a taste.
We discovered this cute, typical taco stop when looking for somewhere closeby to Vallarta Cowork to eat lunch when we first came to town, and we’ve been back numerous times since. Be prepared to use your Spanish skills here, and don’t miss their awesome agua frescas, too.
After two years away from Mexico, one of the things I felt most in need of was a decent margarita. So, first thing – I got to work quizzing the local expat groups on where to find an excellent margarita.
I gotta be honest – the results were incredibly divisive.
Some people recommended margarita grill for an excellent margarita, the others dismissed it as super touristy and a bit gimmicky. Turns out, I think both are true. In any case, they do make a great margarita & the cochinita pibil is pretty wonderful too.
In search of pozole, my research led me to the base of the Parroquia de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, and to the unassuming traditional-style El Campanario.
Cheap, delicious, traditional – what’s not to love? I’ve been back plenty since – the pozole is excellent, the comida even better. Also, for somewhere so central, everything is remarkably affordable too. Since that first visit, we’ve continued to return to El Campanario many times.
Joe Jacks is an oft recommended dinner spot that popped up onto my radar numerous times. So, for a nice dinner out in the Zona Romantica we decided to check it out.
The upstairs terrace is charming, and the food was wonderful. They mix an excellent cocktail, too. The only downside is that is does get pretty busy in the high seasons, and is generally pretty full of tourists.
I’m a self professed Oaxaca obsessive. Mole is one of my favourite Oaxacan delicacies, and despite being in Jalisco I was still keen to track down some delicious Oaxacan cuisine. As it turns out, the opportunities to eat Oaxacan are slim in Vallarta.
But, luckily enough there is still one option, and they do make a few delicious different moles. Mole de Jovita didn’t quite stand up to my (unfairly high) expectations after living in Oaxaca, but it’s the best I’ve found in Puerto Vallarta, and I would gladly eat there again.
We found Los Muertos early on in our time living Puerto Vallarta as it’s only a few blocks from where we were based for the first month in Las Canoas.
Los Muertos brews some great beers, the El Duderino (a delicious vanilla java porter) being a personal favourite. They also make great (albeit massive!) pizza, and everything else I’ve tried on the menu has been good too.
This is an excellent spot if you’re looking for a beer and a momentary break from Mexican food, or if you’re just craving a slice of pizza!
Monzón was the second brewery we quickly checked out in our first few weeks in town. They also make really good beers, and I love how often they switch them out and try new things.. although I haven’t yet found anything I like quite as much as the El Duderino (mentioned above)
What I really love about Monzón is the tacos!
They are more US styled & priced than the kind you’ll find out on the street all about town, but gosh are they delicious! Right now I’m specifically enamoured by their baja fish, but the caramelized pork belly is pretty excellent too. Monzón very quickly became our go-to spot for a boozy Friday late lunch.
Right at the fartherest end of Emiliano zapata, right by the mercados & fruterias that border the rio cuale is Mariscos el Colera. We’ve only eaten there the once, but I can vouch for their fish tacos being excellent, and they mix up a mean raicilla margarita.
There are plenty of tables, it’s excellent for watching life go by in a less touristy part of an otherwise tourist-heavy neighbourhood, and the prices are excellent. Many neighbourhood locals eat here, and it’s an excellent respite from the cloying & heaving crowds of holiday makers closer to the malecon.
I had saved Marrakech for later. To me, it felt like an advanced destination – suited to skilful travellers who know exactly what they are doing. The more I reflect, the more I see how wrong that assumption was.
I had bundled Morocco away with the likes of Japan and India for quite some time – a place not dangerous or in the midst of war, but somewhere that might pose a unique set of challenges. Having now visited all three countries with a difficulty rating of high in my mind, I can comfortably let you know they were all awesome and I held off in my earlier travel years for absolutely nothing.
Marrakech charmed me, and although I spent over a month exploring Morocco, I only had a few days in Marrakech and I would gladly return for longer next time.
“I believe that Marrakech ought to be earned as a destination. The journey is the preparation for the experience. Reaching it too fast derides it, makes it a little less easy to understand.”
Kefta mkaoura is found just about everywhere in Morocco. Known by many as Moroccan meatballs, It’s a staple tagine and the fragrance wafts from rooftops across Marrakesh.
It’s served bubbling with a film of tasty oils rising to the top, lava hot cinnamon-fringed tomato sauce bathing just-poached eggs and spiced meatballs ranging in size from a small cherry up to a golf ball.
I ate this frequently throughout my time spent in Marrakesh – watching intently as the sizzling hot tagines were pieced together. Knowing that next time I had my own kitchen, this would be one of my first recipes to craft.
I worked on this recipe during the covid-19 lockdown, while following a low fodmap elimination diet – which made this recipe a particular challenge!
Served with soft, fresh Khobz (Moroccan bread) for dunking – think bold, tart, tomatoes rounded off with wafts of spices and a meaty bite to finish.
A quick Q&A :
Can I cook Kefta Mkaoura without a tagine?
Absolutely! A tagine is a very cool piece of equipment to keep in your kitchen, but it’s by no means a necessity. Any deep frying pan with a well fitting lid will do the trick! You’ll still get all the wonderful Moroccan flavours, and it’s well worth giving it a go with whatever you have.
Which meat would be best for Kefta Mkaoura?
A blend of ground beef + lamb would be excellent! But either of the two works. Lamb or goat is a very typical flavour in Moroccan food, so goes very well. Many Moroccans don’t eat pork due to their faith, so it’s unlikely you’d see pork showing up in this recipe.
How could Moroccan meatballs be made vegetarian?
You don’t have to eat meat to enjoy this! There are a number of excellent vegetarian and vegan ‘meat’ ball recipes out there using chickpeas, lentils, or meat replacements. Just be mindful if you’re following a fodmap diet to find a recipe without onions and garlic.
What to serve with moroccan meatballs
Typically, some good Moroccan bread – also known locally as khobz. Outside of Morocco many people might serve Moroccan meatballs on a bed of Couscous, however, in Morocco Couscous is more usually a meal in itself instead of a side dish! If you went to a typical Moroccan restaurant you would enjoy your tagine with a plate of bread and a pot of mint tea.
Is Kefta Mkaoura gluten free?
Yes, absolutely. If you make it using this recipe it is, anyhow. However, many people do put breadcrumbs into their meatballs so be cautious if you’re eating out. For a gluten free and low fodmap side dish, I recommend investigating the totally underrated grain millet. It cooks a lot like quinoa, and makes a tasty side.
Garlic & Onions: Aren’t allowed through the elimination phase, so I left them out of this recipe. Instead, I used chives & garlic oil to create a similar flavour profile. If you’re not sensitive to fructans, or on some crazy diet like I am, feel free to sub back in crushed garlic and onions in the beginning stage of heating the oil.
Peppers: Green peppers go really well here, but red have less fodmaps. Per serving, its okay to eat up to 1/4 of a medium red capsicum/pepper, but only 1/2 a cup of green. So either go with red, or reduce your quantities of green pepper down to one cup max if you are following a low fodmap diet.
Mix all the kefta ingredients together with your hands
Roll the keftas into small, evenly sized balls
Prepare the sauce in a tagine or deep skillet/pan
Once the sauce is prepared, line up the keftas
Moroccan Kefta Mkaoura (Low Fodmap)
A signature dish in Morocco, with a fodmap friendly twist. Kefta mkaoura is made up of cherry-sized fragrant meatballs in a spiced tomato sauce.
Think bold, tart, tomatoes rounded off with wafts of cinnamon and finished with poached egg.
For the Kefta (Meatballs)
500 grams minced beef (minced lamb, or a blend of the two.)
2 tbsp fresh parsley (chopped)
3 tbsp fresh coriander (chopped)
1 tsp paprika (smoked)
1 tsp cumin (ground)
1½ tsp salt (sea salt or kosher – preferably not iodised)
½ tsp tumeric (ground)
½ tsp cinnamon (ground)
1 tbs finely diced chives ((substitute with onion if your not fructan sensitive))
For the Sauce
¼ cup olive oil
1 kg fresh tomatoes ((or the equivalent in cans, if it’s what you have available))
1 small red capsicum, diced ((green will work well too if you’re not on a low-fodmap diet))
2 tablespoons garlic oil ((for non-fodmap dieters you can use 4 cloves of garlic instead))
2 tablespoons smoked paprika
2 tablespoons cumin (ground)
½ tsp salt (or more, to taste)
½ tsp pepper
½ tsp chilli powder
2 leaves bay leaves
2 tbsp parsley (chopped)
2 tbsp coriander (chopped)
To finish
4 eggs
1 handful olives (whole)
Make the kefta (meatballs)
Combine all of the ingredients from the kefta section (ground meat, herbs & spirces) into a bowl and mix with your hands until it’s well combined
Take portions of the meat and roll into meatballs, the size is up to you. Traditionally, the keftas would be around the size of a small marble.
Make the sauce
If working with fresh tomatoes, use a cheese grater to grate them to a pulp, discarding the skin.
Place your tagine base, or pan, over a medium to low heat with the oil. Once heated, sauté the diced capsicum and onion for several minutes, before adding the garlic for just 1-2 minutes more.
Add your tomatoes, and stir in all the herbs and spices. Bring to a simmer, then cover and cook until the tomatoes cook down and the sauce thickens, for around 45 minutes, checking every 10-15 mins or so to give it a stir and mash the tomatoes down with the back of your stirring spoon, and adding water if necessary.
When the sauce is thick enough, give it a taste and adjust seasoning as desired. Now, add the meatballs, cover and continue to cook until the meatballs are cooked through for a further 10 mins
Put it all together
5 minutes before serving, add the olives into the sauce to allow them to warm through, placing them gently between the koftas.
Once the olives are added, carefully crack the eggs over top (careful not to burst the yolks!) and cover the tagine or pan for the final cooking minutes. Cook until the eggs are set (but not overdone)
Add the finishing touches
Traditionally served with Khobz (Moroccan bread) for dunking, but if you prefer (or if you’re on a fodmap elimination diet as I was at the time of writing) you can eat these over some moroccan spiced millet
Main Course
Moroccan
GlutenFreeDiet, LowLactoseDiet
Dairy Free, Gluten Free, Low Fodmap, North African
When I first landed in Mexico, I’d come from New Zealand – a country so far away that we barely had any understanding of what Mexican food meant beyond hard shell tacos and burritos. The the concept of breakfast in Oaxaca had never crossed my mind, and I was delighted to discover an entire new world awaited me.
Unlike in New Zealand, breakfast in Oaxaca is rarely toast or cereal – instead, it’s an entire cuisine of its own full of flavours, traditions and specialities.
It’s been my absolute pleasure to introduce the people I care about to the food of Oaxaca, and in all the times I’ve spent living in the city of Oaxaca I’ve managed to host a number of guests and introduce them to the magical world of breakfast that I believe exists uniquely in this incredible food capital.
Chilaquiles Rojo o Verde: how do you choose?
My favourite breakfast food? Chilaquiles – hands down. Chilaquiles are not uniquely Oaxacan, and despite Mexico’s heavy lean toward regional cuisine, this is one dish that can be found ubiquitously across most of Mexico’s incredibly diverse range of foods.
Chilaquiles are where nachos meet enchiladas. Triangles of crispy tortilla doused in salsa, topped with crumbly fresh cheese and herbs. Rojos (red sauce) or verdes (green sauce) are the most popular varieties that you will find in all good chilaquiles stops, but there are also other varieties to be had.
As with all Mexican culinary tradition, everyone covets their special salsa recipes. This means that your chilaquiles verdes at one restaurant, may taste completely different at another.
However, generally speaking, the salsa verde will be more sour – made with green chiles and tomatillos. The salsa rojo may be more spicy, and is usually more rich and tomato flavoured.
After deciding on the salsa, you can order your chilaquiles sencillos (with just cheese and herbs), con huevo (with an egg) , or usually with a choice of meats – pollo (chicken) and tasajo (thin beef) are the most popular.
Chiaquilies Rojos con Pollo
Chilaquiles Rojos con Tasajo
Chilaquiles Verdes
Chilaquiles Rojos
Other Varieties of Chilaquiles
It was my Spanish language tutor who introduced me to the idea of Torta de Chilaquiles (or as Thrillist put it, a delightfully decadent carb bomb) – a torta (sandwich made on bolillo roll) filled with chilaquiles, crumbed chicken, cheese and other toppings.
Where to find the best Chilaquiles in Oaxaca?
My favourite spot for chilaquiles is Ancestral Cocina Tradicional, who boast not just the delicious rojo + verdes varieties available with a selection of meats or egg, but also I can highly recommend just about everything on their menu for a traditional breakfast, Oaxaca style.
The other excellent choice is Pan-am Cafe, who do a stunning job of mouth watering chilaquiles with excellent fresh toppings. You can check out the Oaxaca Breakfast Spots map for more inspiration.
Antojitos: Memelas, Quesadillas, and Tetelas
Oaxaca has a deep and significant history intertwined with maize and corn, and this is reflected in the wide variety of masa-based antojitos available everywhere in Oaxaca. The different names reflect the shape and size of your antojito, as well as the way it’s folded or presented. From there, you can choose your desired filling or topping.
Memelas and Quesedillas on a comal
Memela with chicken and fresh cheese
Quesadillas De Flor De Calabaza (Squash-Blossoms)
Memelas
I was delighted to see Oaxaca, and memelas, get some special attention on one of my favourite Netflix shows : Street Food Latin America where they introduced us to the delightful Doña Vale of The Memelas Doña Vale in the Mercado Central de Abasto (the largest market in the City of Oaxaca)
Memelas look simple – a round of flat masa, warmed on the comal and smeared with some pork fat, beans and a crumble of queso fresco but their simplicity lends to one of the most memorable, comforting, and popular breakfast foods to be found in Oaxaca.
Quesadillas
Quesadillas in Oaxaca will look different from what many tourists might be expecting. Instead of being two large tortillas stacked on one another and sliced into wedges, a quesadilla here is more often a single, large tortilla flipped over on itself with delicious fillings sandwiched inside.
Because it’s Oaxaca, a quesadilla filled with queso Oaxaca (Oaxacan string cheese) is a must. You’ll find it in just about all quesadillas in Oaxaca, as the cheese is an important speciality for the region.
Then, try some Flor de Calabaza (squash blossoms), hongos (mushrooms) or tinga de pollo (shredded chipotle chicken) inside, and finally splash it with some good salsa. Delicious!
Tetelas
You can tell a tetela by its triangular shape, stuffed with beans and cheese and cooked on the comal alongside memelas and quesadillas.
Named after a small village in the Oaxaca region, these really are a regional speciality. They are a little harder to find than the other antojitos mentioned here, but worth looking for.
Antojitos can be found at nearly every place you spy a comal. There are wonderful memelas, quesadillas, tetelas and more to be had on just about any street corner.
For a lesser known (but no less special) experience, head to La Abuela on the edge of Jardín Conzatti. The menu is fairly simple, but the topping choices are all home made with so much love. This is one of my favourite little spots to pop into for breakfast.
Enchiladas, Enfrijoladas & Enmoladas
Enchiladas con huevos et chile Ajo
Enchiladas con mole
Enchiladas con pollo
It can seem a little intimidating the first time to see so many breakfast items beginning in en- and ending in -adas! But not to fear.. they are all very similar dishes, the difference being in the sauce used over top.
Enchiladas are tortillas wrapped around something (commonly chicken and/or queso fresco), covered in a chile based sauce made of Ajo or other red chilis.
Enmoladas are just like an Enchilada, but instead of a chili salsa it is covered in a mole sauce. A great choice when in Oaxaca, a land famed for mole!
Enfrijoladas are also an Enchiladas, but instead of a chili salsa or a mole it is bathed in a black bean sauce.
As with most Oaxacan breakfasts, you can usually opt to have a Huevo (egg) on top, or some kind of meat like tasajo or cecina, or they are delicious as they are and you can have them sencillos (without any additions)
Where to eat enchiladas in Oaxaca
My personal favourite spot for enchiladas is in the (sometimes hard to find as it moves around) Pochote Xochimilco Market at Calle Marcos Pérez #217, Colonia Centro (between Crespo y Joaquin Amaro) I get them from the small vendor in the far, left corner when you’re walking in from the entrance.
Tamales in all their many flavours
Tamal Oaxaqueño steamed in banana leaf
Tamale con mole verde
Sweet tamales in their pink skins
Tamales are glorious, and ubiquitously connected with Mexican food and culture. Oaxaca brings their own twist to this in a few different ways. In my experience, the best place to find tamales is at the markets in the morning. In the evenings, you can still find Tamales Oaxaqueños at some night markets and on restaurant menus, but the other varieties tend to be found predominantly in the mornings, and on special holidays.
Tamales Oaxaqueños
Oaxacan style tamales are somewhat flat, square parcels of Masa, some kind of meat, and a mole (commonly mole negro) wrapped in banana leaves instead of the more common corn husk.
Tamales de Mole
Tamales de mole are more typical of what people think of when they think of a tamale – plump, round, and wrapped in a corn husk – Oaxaca is an excellent place for this due to being famed as the land of mole! You can get all different varieties of mole in your tamale, my personal favourite is mole verde (a tangy green mole sauce)
Tamales de Dulce
You can tell a tamale de dulce apart from the tamales de mole by its pinked-dyed skin. Inside is sweet masa mixed with cinnamon, spices, raisons and sometimes sweet fruits like pineapple.
Where to eat Tamales in Oaxaca
The best place to find tamales de mole and tamales de dulce are in the markets in the morning. My favourite tamales can be found at Mercado Sánchez Pascuas by the lady who sells on the edge of the foodcourt (rather than the other tamale stall fixed inside the market building, who is also good and worth a try)
For tamales Oaxaqueños, a great place to try these is in one of the small restaurants inside the Mercado 20 de Noviembre
Molettes – a classic student breakfast
The very first time I tried a mollette, it was my first every trip to Mexico and introduced to me by my tour guide as the breakfast for students. Quick, tasty, found across Mexico – this is a crusty bolillo roll toasted, smeared with beans and served with Quesillo Oaxaca, your choice of meat (or no meat) and a hearty serving of pico de gallo over top.
Mexican grilled cheese, breakfast torta – whatever you want to call it, this is a winning combination and a breakfast option you’re going to be able to find just about anywhere.
Molettes with salsa
Mollettes con carne
Tacos are not only a late night street food
One lesson quickly learned from my times spent in Oaxaca is a taco is really what you make of it. Forget rigid ideas of how you think a taco should work, and reframe it as a tortilla wrapped around something.
Because that’s what taco is, it’s a way of wrapping whatever you would like to eat inside a fresh, warm, corn tortilla. And what better way to start the day with a breakfast taco?
You can find tacos in most breakfast restaurants serving antojitos but my hands-down favourite breakfast taco is the Tacos Rellenos con Pollo Coloradito from Ancestral Cocina Traditional.
Two large tortillas rolled and stuffed with shredded chicken, douses in the mole coloradito sauce and covered in a heaping of shredded lettuce and queso fresco – It’s usually too much food for me to eat alone, but it’s well worth the attempt!
Tacos Rellenos con Pollo Coloradito
Huevos all the way – Divorcados, estrellados & rancheros
Huevos is Spanish for eggs, and something you will see an awful lot of around Oaxacan Breakfasts (and Mexican breakfast in general) there are numerous ways to eat your eggs:
Huevos Divorcados: two eggs served on tortillas, with both red and green salsa split by a row of refried beans across the middle. It sounds complicated – but really, it’s just delicious.
Huevos Rancheros: these are the most well known of the eggs, and are ranch-style because they are named after what one might eat on a rural Mexican farm.
Huevos Estrellados: these are fried eggs, sometimes served on tortillas, sometimes with bacon or chorizo. It depends upon the restaurant and the menu.
Huevos Oaxaqueños: Eggs prepared in a traditional Oaxacan way – scrambled with cheese and served in a rich red salsa, and topped with avocado.
Hot Drinks: Chocolate, Champurrado, and Atole
Chocolate con leche
Chocolate de agua
Cafe con leche with bread in the morning
Cafe de agua
Chocolate in Oaxaca
Oaxaca has been apart of a major cocoa trade route since very ancient times, so despite not producing any cacao trees for themselves, the city of Oaxaca plays an instrumental part of chocolate production, and is considered the chocolate capital of Mexico.
However, it surprises many visitors to learn that eating chocolate is a rarity here. Instead, the rich whisps of roasting cacao that will lodge in your fragrance memory for the rest of time are being used mostly in mole sauces, and for drinking chocolate.
Hot chocolate is a very typical breakfast drink here, enjoyed with bread in the morning. Whilst you can get it with milk (chocolate con leche) the more usual way to drink chocolate is with water (chocolate de agua) and sometimes a little azúcar (sugar)
In Nahuatl (a spoken by the Aztecs and their neighbours, still spoken in many parts of Mexico today) Xocoatl, a word believed to be the origins of our current day word Chocolate, translates directly to mean bitter water (xoco = bitter and atl = water)
And that’s how chocolate de agua tastes – not sickly sweet as many have come to know chocolate, but a rich, slightly bitter drink with much more in common with coffee than with a candy bar.
Where to drink chocolate in Oaxaca
Chocolate Mayordomo is the most famous place to sample chocolate, and see it being produced in all of Oaxaca. It’s for good reason that it’s so famous, and it’s well worth a visit to one of their numerous Oaxaca restaurants for a try.
If you want to veer off the beaten Mayordomo path a touch, for another amazing chocolate experience I highly recommend paying a visit to Texier Chocolatería for an incredible selection of flavours, they also (a rarity!) sell eating chocolate here if you’re in need.
Champurrado and Atole
Aside from chocolate and coffee, there are a number of other important hot breakfast beverages to be found in Oaxaca. Two of the most prominent are Champurrado and Atole, two hot drinks both made from a maize base.
Atole is a hot, corn based drink that is made up of toasted masa, piloncillo (unrefined cane sugar), cinnamon, vanilla and water.
Champurrado is similar to an Atole, but is made also with chocolate.
Both are common breakfast drinks, enjoyed frequently with bread, churros, or tamales and is especially prevalent around the Dia de Muertos (day of the dead) festivities.
Map: Where to eat breakfast in Oaxaca
Frequently Asked Questions
What are Oaxacan tamales wrapped in?
Instead of the usual corn husks, Oaxacan tamales are instead traditionally wrapped in banana leaves.
What foods are Oaxaca most famous for?
Oaxaca is well known across Mexico as being the land of the seven moles – although in truth there are many more than seven varieties to be found here! But to get started, make sure you try the 7 typical moles of Oaxaca: negro, rojo, amarillo, coloradito, verde, chichilo, and manchamantel.
Are there vegetarian breakfast options in Oaxaca?
Yes, there are many vegetarian options to be found. But please be vigilant if you are vegetarian – as many memelas, quesadillas, tllayudas, tamales and other masa-based foods have asiento (pork fat) added to them.
Where can I find Pancakes in Oaxaca?
There are plenty of less typical Mexican options in Oaxaca, and if you’re looking for pancakes, waffles or a matcha latte you’re in lucky – check out A.M. Siempre Café, Boulenc, Pan : am, and Gourmand Delicatessen
It was 2015 in the Southwest French summertime, visiting the Périgord region not far from Bordeaux. Before this, I’d never set foot in Europe. A wide eyed and brand new to this land, so heavy with culture and history. My first glimpse of Paris entailed a zip down the Seine with barely a pause for a face full of religieuse & macarons before departing out of Gare d’Austerlitz bound for the town of Périgeaux.
Later in my travels France would become somewhat of a second home to me, however for now I was viewing these lands with fresh eyes. Completely eclipsing everything I’d grown up with, reminding me that my own land was just an infant in comparison.
Despite being relatively unknown outside of France, Its well worth breaking out of Paris to explore the other side of France. The Périgord region is remarkably lively in the summer months with Parisians seeking an escape from the city, sunshine, countryside and glimpse back in time to what rural French life was like before all the high rises.
Here in the Périgord, each region is more picturesque than the last. Famed for unspoiled natural beauty, abundant wildlife, and exquisite cuisine focusing around duck, truffle, and walnuts. Each quarter of the Périgord is a namesake to it’s most famed product.
Starting in the north, the Périgord Vert gets its name for being rich in forests, meadows and streams, the center is the Périgord Blanc for the white limestone plateaus of Ribéracois-Verteillacois , Périgord Noir named for it’s earthy black truffles In the Southeast, and the Périgord Pourpre in the Southeast who’s region owes its name to the color taken by the vine leaves in autumn, splayed across over 1200 vineyards.
Food is the heart of this region, and even the tiniest of convenience store peddles all manner of duck pate and my most beloved trappe echourgnac
During the hotter months, the small villages in the region host daily get-togethers, where each night of the week it is a different villages turn to host le repas – an out door food court of sorts, but not like anything I’d imagined before. I was excited to find out what a different villages had in store. Audrix is a tiny medevial village, a speckle placed pricisely on the highest point of a small hill. The view is postcard worthy, 360 degree panoramic views across the Southern French countryside, woods and groves occasionally intercepted by fat, rotund hay bales and stone clad cottages.
The summer evenings amble along at an easy pace – with the last round of sunscreen being applied as late at 8pm. In this toasty environment, al fresco dining seems more of a requirement than an option. Long bench tables are set up around the perimeter of the town square, while a band is getting ready to play in front of the roaring hot wood-fired bread oven. A delightful cross between a picnic and an outdoor food market.
Guests bring their own plates and cutlery, often wine too, and then carouse the stalls selecting the rest. The options vary between towns depending on both what is produced locally in the region, as well as what is in season. I made a beeline for a personal favourite – confit de canard, a thigh of duck cooked in it’s own fat, served aside sliced potatoes fried in mushroom and bacon. Stuffed full and happy, I finished off with red wine and cup of strawberries with creme chantilly.
Duck, truffles, fois gras and walnuts are all regional delicacies. Platters of thin, meaty circles of fois gras & rillette sit neatly aside cheese plates and freshly hulled strawberries. Bustling vendors whipping up rich, black truffle fragranced tagliatelle chat to their neighbours grilling up magret canard and steak frite.
The festivities carry on well into the evening as dark doesn’t fall until about 10pm. The local entertainment parades through dressed in traditional clothing; singing, dancing and snaking their way through the crowd in handmade medieval gear. Children play and indulge in rides around the village on a cart drawn by donkey as their parents catch up with their friends and neighbours over a flame-baked, crusty bread. Eventually the crowds disperse for the evening, warm, socialised & sated, ready for a good nights sleep, and maybe even to meet up again tomorrow at the next repas, each day a new village host.
Through the snaking maze of the Marrakesh medina, it’s impossible not to get lost the first time. Everything looks the same, and there’s very little to navigate around. Tucked behind a large heavy wooden door, unassuming and no different from the rest aside from the Riad Romance sign above the entrance way, laid our treasure.
A kind faced Moroccan man opens the door and welcomes us into a whole new paradise. I’m not the luxury traveller type, but when planning our trip to Marrakesh I had splashed out a little. This riad was a relaxing haven amidst the bustling medina.
The interior courtyard borders a central swimming pool with rounded edges, wrapped in glazed blue tiles. The walls a traditional moroccan style of chalky-painting in caramel colour with intricately laid brick facade stretching up a third of the way up. The doors are enormous, carved and wooden. Around the pool is a forest of gigantic pots, coloured in red, yellow, and blue filled with towering palms, banana palms, olives and oranges. Despite the hectic market life outside, the only noises penetrating the oasis walls are those of birdsong from above.
In the corner, a triangle couch clad in deep purple velour and brocade cushions all over. I drape myself over and admire the poolside around me as I sip sweet tea from a bottomless silver pot. Mosaic topped tables filled up the other corners of the space, and around the edges dangle multitudes of coloured lamps.
A small ginger kitten with a flowing tail is pouncing about the place, catching flies and chasing the shadows of birds that flit high above.
Frankensense burns near the pool, leaving a subtle fragrance that intermingles perfectly with the wafts of charring peppers and baking bread snaking out of the kitchen.
After a welcoming mint tea, the first of many, we are taken to our room. Heavy wooden doors open up to a slender, luxurious chamber. In the far left is a huge open fireplace flanked by two decorative, hanging lamps. The curtains are thick, soft gold with shiny golden stripes. The bed is soft, white cotton with velour golden pillows to accent. We have two large, maroon velvet chairs opposite the entrance way, and the floors are tiled in white brick with a large, soft, red rug over top. To the right side is the bathroom – a deep ochre with a large bath tub and small bottles of fragrant soap, shampoo, and lotion.
I feel like a princess with the softest sheets and warm stone tiled floors. The room around me softly lit with elaborate lamps.
The call to prayer echos across the rooftops of Marrakesh five times a day from all directions. A normal part of daily life for most, yet a surreal melody floating in the heavy air to those not yet accustomed to it.
I awake in the morning, rested and full of exploratory energy to a full breakfast beside the pool. Hot coffee gently spiced with cinnamon and served with steaming milk, devine homemade vanilla yoghourt, wedges of fresh mahrash bread, small pancakes with butter and jam, a plate of fried eggs dusted in bright red spices and a silver pot of mint tea.
The medina is a spiraling maze of golden, pink and red. Motorcycles and donkey-drawn carts whip by, and many locals still prefer a more typical dress code of light linen kaftans and pointy toed babushka shoes.
I eat myself into a stupor, frequently. The food is too good, and my self control too little.
Small rooftop terraces overlooking the jumble patchwork of souk rooftops serve up tagines, still bubbling and sizzling. Saffron chicken with olives and preserved lemon, spicy little marquez sausages in rich tomato sauce, couscous piled high with root vegetables, meats and chickpeas. All served with baskets of flat, semolina topped bread and dishes of local olives.
On the final night, a special in-house dinner was prepared. A specialty offering of the Riad. Glittering placemats were set upon the terrace as the large sun set over the rooftops. A feast of salads was laid out under the dusky sky – velvety eggplants, garlic courgettes, fresh moroccan salad, and herbed carrots with bread and olives. The main arrived – a sizzling tagine of lamb with plums, dried apricots and walnuts, followed by thin crispy pancakes layered with orange blossom water infused cream.
But, there are some dark sides to this mystical red city, and a stroll over to the main square of Jemaa el-Fnaa brings those to light. A lively hub of street foods and storytellers, henna painters and musicians. It’s a part of the city that really comes to life in the night, and feels like a tip-toe into ancient Arabic lands, far flung from modern day Africa.
With each step through the medina a new voice comes, ‘you’re going the wrong way!’, ‘It’s closed!’, ‘You can’t go there, it’s forbidden’. None of this true, of course. But a popular Marrakesh scam involving helpful people, tour guides, and extortionate fees.
After another quick whip through the souk, filled with a lifetime of treasures, lanterns, and spices; the space opens up to the large square of Marrakesh’s famed Jemaa el-Fnaa. The unmistakable whining of pungi fills the air – snake charmers are all around. An ancient trade I once considered mysterious and exotic, turns out to be a horrendous exploration of creatures and tourists alike.
The snakes, mostly cobras, are hunted from their holes further out in more remote parts of the country. Many have their teeth pulled, or other methods to make the creature less dangerous. Once captured, the craft of charming them is less and art form, and more a practice in maintaining the perfect distance to keep the snake permanently on-edge, yet not quite close enough to strike. The snakes don’t last long – the stress means they die quickly, and within weeks the charmer will need to head back out to the desert to find a replacement.
Many of the snake charmers in Jemaa el-Fnaa will act in accordance to the tourist – if they spy fear, they will drape the cobra over the unsuspecting victim, demanding a fee to remove it. If instead they catch even a hint of curiosity, they will swarm around offering photo opportunities – for a charge, of course.
Weaving our way through the busy square, paying extra-careful attention to avoid making eye contact with any snake charmers and leash brandishing monkey handlers (if you worry for the snakes, I won’t even start on the monkeys) we made our way back into the relative calm of the medina, and on to our delightful riad.
In the end I fell asleep in our little palace, full and contented, somewhat haunted, and ready for further explorations from Marrakesh out into the South of Morocco.
Some countries are interesting to visit, a nice place to spend a little time. Others, a very select few, are more than that. They feel like another home, somewhere you were always meant to wander. Unexpectedly, this is how Morocco has taken me by surprise. From the fragrance of the spices, wafts of smouldering frankincense, the sounds of the adham, and the bustling souks full of Aladdin’s caves full of flickering lamps and donkey carts.
Stepping out of Aimé Césaire International Airport is an experiment in vacation imaginations being allowed to run amuck. The road to Fort-de-France is fringed in a mess of coconut palms bobbing in a sky heavy with humidity; colourful Caribbean houses painted in pinks, yellows and pale blues teeter on the hilltops; and large French chain stores line the side of the highway.
What happens when you place France on a small Caribbean island? As it turns out, the result is Martinique. It made sense to get away for December, hide from Christmas, and wrap up a year spent in North America by dipping my toes back into some warm sand. Martinique had started as a bit of a joke destination – somewhere exotic and far-reaching, that I knew so little about.
Yet quickly enough, as these things tend to do, I found myself with a flight bound for Martinique, leaving from a very wintery Montreal.
Martinique is part of France
Martinique is a French overseas territory. This means it is not just French reminiscent, but by visiting you are entering the country of France on arrival. The official language here is French, and the currency is the Euro. Stepping into downtown Fort-de-France is a colourful and vibrant reimagining of mainland France where boulangerie meets coco rum punch, and market stalls are overflowing with mangoes and papaya.
Many airlines offer direct flights from mainland France each day, making Fort-de-France a uniquely popular spot for French tourism rather than the hoards of North American tourists who more frequently find their way to other neighbouring Caribbean islands. Cruise ships do stop by, bringing a frontline smattering of harbour-facing souvenir shops opening only when the ships dock, and leading to sporadic days of heightened tourist activity around the small downtown area of Fort-de-France.
Fort-de-France Food
Being France, this is one of the best spots in the Caribbean to find excellent French wines; and boulangeries laden with croissants and local breads with a coconut twist. Varieties of Bordeaux wines stock the shelves alongside an abundance of island produced rum, and if you look hard enough you will stumble upon the occasional typical French bistro serving entrecôte, ratatouille, magret de canard and creme brûlée.
More typical Caribbean food is a staple here too, with cassava and plantain dominating alongside Colombo de poulet – A chicken curry that arrived with Sri Lankans who were brought over to work on the sugar plantations. The food found here is a fascinating blend of traditional French, African, Creole, South Asian and a wide variety of local seafood.
December didn’t prove to be a great month for local fruit, with most of the delicacies of mangos, guavas and pineapples falling out of season. The markets still stocked fruit, however most varieties we got our hands on were under-ripe, poor quality and sadly out of season. However, if you come here during mango season (May to July) the island is heaving with an abundance of the fruit around every corner, and with most of the rural roads lined in mango trees, it makes for delicious roadside mango collecting by the armfuls.
Language Barrier – Do they speak English in Fort-de-France?
The information I’d found about Fort-de-France hinted at not a word of English spoken. Fine by me, my French is enough to get by and practicing the language was a large part of the reason for visiting. Yet, I found much more English spoken around than I’d expected.
While it’s true that French is very much the primary language of both locals and tourists alike, the experience of having people move to English where they could was accomodating and kind. I didn’t encounter any place where there was not even a word of English spoken around Fort-de-France, and I suspect an English speaker who attempted just a few words of French in practice would find themselves understood, and able to get by just fine.
I, on the other hand, wanted to practice my French while here and tried with great determination to avoid switching to English. I found most everyone I spoke with to be patient and understanding, helped with correcting my use of the language and the accent and dialect (to me, at least) felt very similar to mainland Europe French, so I could understand most people without great difficulty.
Fort-de-France shuts up shop in the evenings and on Sundays
Just like on mainland France, supermarkets close on Saturday midday and stay closed through Monday morning. Fort-de-France although lively and bustling during the day, becomes a ghost town at night.
Spending time in this city is much like many other European small towns, and involves some time and planning to get groceries in advance of the weekend, and learn which spots will remain open and when.
Most restaurants also close in the afternoons from around 3 – 7, with many not opening beyond lunch at all. Eating out in Fort-de-France was a careful lesson in always checking opening hours, and never assuming anything.
Where we slept & where to eat in Fort-de-france
We stayed at Patio Gallieni who offered a lovely, clean and very central apartment with cooking and laundry facilities in the apartment (a rarity in this traveling life!) It’s far from a tropical beach resort, but is an awesome option if you want to be central in Fort-de-France and not require a car for the every day.
Grenade et Basilic was the highlight of French food in Fort-de-France. Various review sites place this charming restaurant far down the ranks from where it deserves to be. The owner is delightful, the food is very French, and I especially loved the house made ratatouille, entrecôte, and the varying daily crème brûlée flavours. Extra bonus points for being open on Sundays when most things are closed, this restaurant became a weekly tradition during my time here.
Some other honourable mentions for Fort-de-France food were Le Taj for being a lovely change of scenery and pretty good Indian food, Hasta la Pizza for being open frequently, with affordable good pizza and cold wine looking out to the harbour, and Design Pastry for being a reliable source of delicious pastries, decent coffee, friendly faces and a sunny space to sit in the mornings.
Leaving Chengdu bound for Xi’an provided a yellow fringed landscape until dusk, and a third-tier top bunk to rest the night and reflect. As much as I love traveling by rail, more and more so these nights turned to battles with insomnia and emotions as I strained harder to try and find my father in the long nights framed by the clackclacking of the rails.
Amidst the darkness of the carriage and the otherworldliness of Asia I would lie awake in my bunk, listening to the same songs on repeat and reliving memories. The purpose of this trip was to visit his places, to grieve the loss and experience the hole that was left. So many overnight train-trips provided a perfect opportunity for such a thing, but I can’t say these were easy times – only that they were necessary for my healing.
As the eggyolk sun crawled up above the fields, we crept slowly into early morning Xi’an as people were just starting their days. Disembarking from our carriage out into the heart of one of China’s oldest cities, the beginning of the Silk Road, and home to the Terracotta Warriors, I realised Xi’an was already everything I’d hoped to find, and I believe one of the best places to visit in China
It was during this early morning pilgramage across the old city of Xi’an that I stumbled upon the tiniest baozi house I had ever seen. It sat around four people, and a flour-covered couple were working away at pillowy mounds of snow-white lotus leaf dough to turn into baozi – steamed buns filled with a deliciously oily pork filling and served up alongside a broth starter and a dipping sauce.
These baozi are breakfast buns, and this tiny hole in the wall was already popular with takeaway breakfast orders at five in the morning as we sat there and took in the new environment, the rose wallpaper, the endless kneading of the old couple and the delicious smells emanating from every corner.
I was enamoured, I could return here to eat every day for the rest of my life. These buns make up one of my all-time favourite food experiences since on the road, and I can’t express highly enough how good such a simple looking bun might taste.
The best Bao in China
Handmade bao each morning
When I was younger and my father would return from trips to China, Xi’an is the kind of place I would imagine as I would rifle through my imagination to try and place something as different and exotic as I could possibly envisage. As far as I am aware, he never made it to Xi’an himself, but I have no doubt it would have charmed him in all the same ways it did me.
Every turn provided glimpses of dancing, martial arts, and beautifully manicured trees and gardens to walk through. The city is flanked by a four-sided old city wall, and maintains a very traditional feel of an old-world China. Tea houses and calligraphy stores line ornate alleyways and bustling night markets serve up excellent streetfood until late in the night.
Barley Market Street comes to life at night
I was in love again, with yet another facet of Asia I hadn’t before experienced, and much like leaving Ao Nang in Thailand, it was difficult to choose to move onwards.
This is a city steeped in incredible culture and national importance, and visiting was such a pleasure. After a far too short time spent in magnificant Xi’an, it was time to hit the rails again and make way toward Beijing.
I first discovered Khuushuur in a typical Ulanbataar restaurant. I sat and devoured while the snow fell outside and the rest of the world felt like it was tucked off a million miles away. Enough research had warned me of the local cuisine and prepared me to lower my expectations significantly.
You see, Mongolia is not a country famed for its enticing cuisine. All the inhabited corners of the country are remote and with a climate that swings wildly between inhospitably cold and scorching hot. It makes sense that it’s difficult to grow fresh produce and that most of the diet is focused around the meat of hardy animals.
Before arriving, I’d spent a long while sitting on a very long train journey thinking about what the food might be upon my arrival. I’d expected something more akin to neighbouring China. Yet Ulaanbaatar appears to take much more influence from nearby Russia, not only in the look and feel, but also the food. Borscht and sour cream complement the mostly stodgy, fried, meaty diet of dumplings and beef noodles.
All kinds of Dumplings feature predominantly in Mongolian cuisine (thanks to China and Russia right on the doorstep) and everywhere I ate offered some variation on a dumpling.
Yet, if you cast your mind away from the more unique of offal and fermented horse milk, Mongolia offers some superb comfort food suitable for even the picky eaters. Being such a frigidly cold country for a large part of the year, means that the food is generally high fat and meat content, often fried or preserved.
Take, for example, khuushuur. Meaty, lightly spiced filling, wrapped in a golden fried pastry. A fried version of the more famous steamed Buuz dumpling. Sometimes with some potato inside, sometimes with a dollop of sour cream on the side. Each maker has their own special way of pleating and folding them, like a signature. A universally tasty, crispy, and comforting. Perfect for cold winter days. Of all the Mongolian foods I tried, this simple fried dumpling (which reminded me more of a crispy pie) was one of my favourites.
Making Khuushuur at home
When I was a child, my mother used to make us pies that although not fried in the same way, reminded me so much of khuushuur that I instantly wanted to make these for myself and have them again and again. As it turns out, it’s not at all difficult to make at home, and I have a recipe you can try yourself.
Mongolian Khuushuur
Khuushuur is a large, fried, meat dumpling popular across Mongolia. Wrapped in a golden pastry with a steaming meat inside, it’s a perfect comfort food for those bitterly cold Mongolian winters.
Filling
500 grams beef (mutton, or potatoes (or a combination) (either minced or finely diced for the meat. Finely diced or mashed for the potato.))
1/2 onion (finely diced)
2 cloves garlic (minced)
1-2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon either dried marjoram or cumin (the choice is yours!)
Pastry
2.5 cups flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup water (enough to mix the dough)
vegetable oil (enough to fill a frying pan to around 2cm)
To Serve
1/2 cup sour cream
1 wedge cabbage (Shredded)
1 beetroot (Shredded)
Making the pastry
Mix together the flour, salt, and enough of the water to create a kneadable dough.
Knead dough until it’s elastic and smooth, then set it aside to rest for 15 mins
Preparing the filling
In a large bowl, mix together the meat (and/or potato) along with the onion, garlic, salt, pepper, and herbs/spices. If the mix is too dry, add a little water.
Putting it all together
Once the dough is rested, split the dough into four pieces, then cut each piece in half again. Roll each piece of dough into circles, leaving the edges a little thinner than the middle.
Working quickly to prevent the dough from drying out and becoming difficult to work with, hold the pastry circle in the palm of your hand and spoon a dollop of the filling into one side of the circle, leaving plenty of room around the edges to seal everything together.
Fold the circle in half in your hand, using fingers and palm, so that the edges come together creating a half moon shape. Squeeze out the air and flatten the filling as you work around, pinching the edges closed and tucking them under as you go.
Repeat the process for each khuushuur
Cooking
Add around 2cm oil in a frying pan and heat until hot.
Fry two to three of the pastries at a time, cooking until they are a golden brown. This usually takes around 2 minutes per side.
To Serve
Mix together shredded cabbage and beetroot, along with a small dollop of sour cream to create a salad.
Serve the pastries alongside the cabbage and beetroot salad, along with the remainder of the sour cream on the side.
Khuushuur is a large, fried, meat dumpling popular across Mongolia. Wrapped in a golden pastry with a steaming meat inside, it’s a perfect comfort food for those bitterly cold Mongolian winters.
