The colors and flavors of Mexico’s Xochimilco market

My friend Ruth leads culinary tours in Mexico City. Last week, after months of hearing her fabulous stories about the Xochimilco market — where one woman peddles frog-leg tamales, and ladies sell fresh blue-corn tortillas, and green, spicy chile atole sits in a big olla, just waiting to be tasted (this kinda blew my mind… there are savory atole flavors, too?) — I finally booked one of Ruth’s Xochimilco tours, since my mom was in town. And my mom loves food as much as I do, especially if said food is a Mexican gelatina.

A group of us went down in Ruth’s car. Xochimilco lies about 17 miles south of the city center; driving is definitely the easiest way to get there. Public transportation does exist, but there isn’t a direct route. You have to take the metro and then transfer to the Tren Ligero, and then get a cab.

It was a beautiful day, so we parked just a few blocks from Xochimilco’s main church and the market. In front of the car, a man sold embroidered Mexican blouses. (This is when my mom’s eyes started to sparkle. She loves shopping as much as gelatinas.) We bought a few things and then wandered inside the San Bernardino de Siena church, which dates to 1535. It was lovely. Here and there you could see patches of 16th-century murals, which had recently been uncovered in a restoration project.

We bought little cards with the face of the Niñopan, Xochimilco’s patron saint. The Niñopan is another story in himself — he’s a wooden figure of the baby Jesus who’s treated as a living God throughout the city. Different families care for him each year, and they dress him in different outfits. He has parades in his honor. You can even go down to Xochimilco and visit him, just by knocking on the caretakers’ doors. It’s fascinating.

Anyway. The best was yet to come, because then we hit the market.

Now, I’ve seen some markets in my day. But this one. THIS ONE. I think it might be my favorite yet. Yes, even beating out the Central de Abastos.

There were mounds of quelites, stacked on tables. Corn cobs speckled with black kernels. Rows of women selling tortillas and tlacoyos. (At my tianguis, there is just one tortilla stand.) A group of vendors sat outside the market building, displaying the most beautiful produce I’ve ever seen in Mexico City, all of it extremely cheap. And then inside the building: antojitos sizzled on hot comals, and you had to squeeze past them on this narrow aisle, so close to the grill you could feel the warmth of it on your hips. So close to the lady spooning oil onto a gordita, you could have reached out and swiped some with your finger.

In the barbacoa aisle, goat meat with glistening, crispy skin sat inside glass display cases, and goat-head skulls rested on countertops. Vendors yelled, “Take this!” and offered me chunks of soft, greasy goat meat on squares of gray paper. A tortilla maquina churned out corn tortillas, one after the other after the other, so you could have something to eat with your barbacoa sample. An old woman with gray braids sold the tamales de rana, and when I expressed interested, she opened up the husk to show me a meaty, froggy thigh…

All of it was kind of unbelievable. Made me again realize how lucky I am to live in Mexico.

Pictures — a lot of them — below.

One of the sweet little Mexican street gelatins we saw…

The church (the second photo depicts the ceiling):

And… sigh… the market:

Pinole, below, is a coarse flour made from corn. It’s often mixed with milk and drunk as a beverage:

Below is the elusive woman who sells frog-leg tamales — she doesn’t like her picture taken, so I had to be sneaky.