Los Cazadores: entre la historia y el buen comer

Restaurantes de todo tipo abundan en los pueblos que bordean la ribera norte del Lago de Chapala, pero Los Cazadores sobresale como un establecimiento que además de alta cocina, ofrece una buena ración de historia local.

Los Cazadores se ubica en el número 16 del Paseo Ramon Corona, esquina Madero, junto al templo de San Francisco, mirando al lago.

La hermosa mansión de ladrillo de tres pisos se distingue por las dos altas torretas que la coronan en cada extremo, es nada menos que un punto de referencia histórico, asegura su propietario Gerardo Hernández Martínez.

El edificio, que alguna vez fuera una casa de descanso visitada por importantes políticos, empresarios y otras personalidades, fue construido en tiempos de la presidencia de Porfirio Diaz –en la considerada Época de Oro de Chapala– con materiales en su mayoría importados de Europa; casi todos sus elementos distintivos permanecen intactos hasta la actualidad, asegura Gerardo.

Luis Perez Verdía, notable escritor y político mexicano, inició la construcción en 1903, pero para cuando se terminó en 1906, la casa ya había cambiado de manos. Muchos de los detalles finales fueron elegidos por el segundo propietario, Alberto Braniff –de la familia fundadora de la aerolínea que lleva su nombre– quien la conservaría por casi 50 años, razón por la que hasta la fecha se le conoce popularmente como Casa Braniff. El edificio pasó a manos de la familia Hernández en 1970, cuando José Luis Martínez Covarrubias, la adquirió del industrial jalisciense Zenén Camarena. A mediados de los 50 la familia Martínez fundó la prestigiada cadena Cazadores  y José Luis abrió el restaurante de Chapala en 1971.

Insatisfecho con el desempeño de la administración a cargo y la consecuente pérdida de clientes, hace más de una década Gerardo asumió el control del negocio.

A la fecha, el ahora experimentado restaurantero manifiesta sentir por su negocio el mismo orgullo que por el notable edificio que lo alberga.

"Nos esforzamos por ofrecer excelente servicio y platillos atractivos y apetecibles", dice Hernández mientras repasa el amplio menú. "No pretendemos manejar una cocina gourmet, sino comida sencilla elaborada con los mejores y más frescos ingredientes".

Los cortes importados y las tortillas de mano servidas directo del comal son ejemplo de la calidad que exige. Los platos fuertes incluyen una amplia selección de carnes, aves y mariscos, complementada con especialidades como la joya de la casa: Chamorro en mole casero ($145), preparado con la receta familiar, envuelto en hojas de platano y cocinado en su punto para lograr una perfecta textura.

Otro favorito del menú es la Tabla Especial ($130) que consta de lomo de puerco y filete de res asados al carbón y una variedad de delicias regionales como el Pescado Blanco de Pátzcuaro o el Caviar de Chapala, un delicioso aperitivo de huevas de carpa ($80).

Es evidente que el amable y atento servicio a los visitantes ha sido una de las grandes ventajas de Los Cazadores; la atención a los detalles es esencial para mantener una clientela fiel, por eso el extremo cuidado en la higiene y limpieza en todos los rincones del restaurant y los detalles finos como las servilletas y la mantelería.

Además de enfocarse en ofrecer buena comida a precios accesibles, en Los Cazadores se esfuerzan en mantener el momento tan feliz como sea posible. La selección de la música para cada momento del día y de acuerdo al tipo de clientes, así como dedicar y sugerir espacios especiales para quienes buscan un ambiente más adulto o quienes acuden en grupos que celebran algo o niños pequeños.
 Cuando el tiempo se lo permite, Gerardo disfruta hacer de guía para sus comensales mostrándoles los secretos y tesoros de la Casa Braniff, como la tapicería original de seda, los vitrales, los paneles de cristal biselado y grabado al agua fuerte en las puertas, los techos finamente decorados y el adusto retrato de Porfirio Diaz, que solía vacacionar con frecuencia en la mansión. Hay una infinidad de maravillas más, como el enorme retrato de bodas de los abuelos Hernández y diversas antigüedades coleccionadas por la familia a través de los años.

Con una creciente clientela y la vista siempre puesta en la siguiente temporada vacacional, Gerardo confía en que los años de trabajo duro seguirán rindiendo frutos. Sin duda la visión, cordialidad y energía de su gerente seguirá llevando adelante a este hito histórico de Chapala ahora colocado en el mapa como un gran lugar para el buen comer.

Abierto de martes a domingo de 1:00 a  8:00 pm
Teléfono: (376) 765-2162

Pan Dulce: A Mexican Way Of Life

Mexicans love their pan dulce (sweet bread), usually washed down with a full glass of milk, coffee or hot chocolate. Morning, afternoon or evening, these pastries adorn nearly every table at every friendly gathering. Some foreigners find Mexican pan dulce too dry, too heavy, too bland, too crumbly – complaints about them abound. But no matter how you feel, it's hard to resist that marvelous smell of freshly baked dough luring you into your local panaderia (bakery). Before you know it, you find yourself loading up a tray full of pan you can't hope to polish off; without the faintest idea of their contents or names.

Not knowing what to expect from your purchase can be half the fun of the adventure, but for those who are curious about how Mexican pastries got their start and their character, the following is a brief guide:
The Spanish brought the tradition of wheat-flour pastries with them to the new world. According to the "Diccionario Enciclopedico de Gastronomia Mexicana," by Ricardo Muñiz Zurita, it was clergymen and women who first started baking pastries in Mexico, teaching their techniques to indigenous bakers, who quickly turned them into popular artisanry, experimenting with shapes, textures, and flavors. Pan dulce became integral to Mexican identity. Muñiz wrote, "Bread, for Mexicans, is not only nourishment, it is a fundamental part of the culture, and the sheer variety is proof of that."

Many of the same colonial recipes and methods are employed for the bread you find on sale today. However, Muñiz says it wasn't until the 1940s that daily trips to buy pastries at the corner panaderia became a widespread ritual. Over the years, pastries from around the world have influenced consumer demand, and it is quite common to find Danishes and U.S.-style fruit pies amongst the more traditional conchas and bisquetes.

There are several types of masa (dough) used for sweet bread. Masa de bizcocho is heavy on flour and sugar and is used especially for orejas, donas (doughnuts), and campechanas. Masa de manteca is lard heavy, not very sweet, and is used for rock-like cookies such as marranitos and piedras. Masa de panque, used for molded, spongy breads, has more sugar, butter, and egg. Most filled pastries, like empandadas, use masa fiete, while masa de gendarme is used for most cookies.

Here's a listing of the most common pan dulces:
Bandera: Light and flaky pastry baked in long strips. Sometimes sprinkled with powdered sugar.
Mantecada: Muffin-like spongy bread, heavy on the butter. Common flavor variations are vanilla and chocolate, often lightly sprinkled with nuts.
Concha: Perhaps the most iconic Mexican pastry, the crackled sugar coating resembles a seashell. Often dyed bright pink or yellow.
Cuerno: Named for their shape of a horn, often molded into neat little half-circles. The texture can range from buttery to dry, from light to heavy.
Empanada: Triangular or Half-moon shaped, traditionally filled with fruit preserves or pudding.
Oreja: Ear-shaped or heart-shaped, depending on how you look at it. Thin, flaky pastry, sometimes covered with a thin glaze.
Piedra: Heavy roll, often made with whole-wheat flour or oats, sometimes includes raisins and nuts.
Danes: Mexican version of the classic Danish pastry, lightly coated with butter and often includes a jelly center.
Bisquet: Biscuit, not usually very sweet, can range in texture from light to dense. Sometimes spruced up with chopped nuts or raisins.
Rol: If prepared correctly, should have spongy texture and a syrup made of honey or piloncillo wrapped in its coils. Sometimes it has cinnamon, and/or sugar glaze.

ABC to Tapatio Culinary Delights

When you think of Mexico you think of Food

Guadalajara is the capital of Mexican folklore and its world ambassador of culture. And as such, dishes from around the country can be found on Tapatio tables. But Jalisco has its own culinary traditions. If you have never had a late breakfast of tortas ahogadas (literally: a drowned sandwich) then you have not experienced what many Mexicans think is Jalisco's supreme gift to the cornicopia of street stall foods. Guadalajara's famous birote (French-style) oblong rolls are sliced open and filled with roast pork, cut into small cubes, then the sandwich is covered with ladles of a red sauce made from tomatoes, chile de arbol and salt. This dish and another, menudo, are claimed to be surefire hangover cures.

Sundays most restaurants offer menudo, both white and red (laced with chile ancho). It is a tripe soup served with chopped tripe and topped with chopped onions and cilantro, a squeeze of lime and minced chile if you so desire. It is best devoured with a basketful of fresh hand-made tortillas. Posole, another local favorite, is a broth made from pigshead and brimming with hominy. It also comes in red and white varieties and served with diced onion, cabbage or lettuce. It is generally accompanied with tostada--those thin fried tortillas.

Another street-side Tapatio snack is the sope, a small thick tortilla, cooked on the comal and topped with thick guisados (stews) of beef, chicken, pork or vegetables and topped with lettuce tomatoes, grated cheese and thick cream.

If you have never tried birria de chivo (goat) then you haven't experienced the earthy taste that typifies Mexican cooking. Take a calandria (horse and carraige) from downtown and head over to the Nueve Esquinas area, where from Noon on you can dine on the most renown birria in the land. The dish is shredded stewed and roasted goat meat served in its own broth mixed with tomatoes and spices and a salsa on the side made from the vegetables that went in the broth.

Head over to Plaza Las Americas across from the Basilica in Zapopan,  famed as the milpa (cornfield) of Mexico for some meat- or vegetable- filled tamales and atole de maiz, a thick sweet drink made from ground corn.

If you've got a sweet tooth head over to Ixtlahuacan de los Membrillos for some ate (aspic) or cajeta de membrillo (a creamy spread). In Guadaljara a great spot for an evening treat is La Bombilla, an eatery where the only dish is churros (long thin donuts made from an egg rich batter) dipped in cinnamon and sugar and served  with hot chocolate, made the old fashioned way with white atole in three varieties of thickness.

The Sour-tasting Bread & The Belgian Connection

'Nestor Pirrot with Guadalajara's famed birrote bread – created by his virtual namesake, Camille Pirrote, during the French occupation of Mexico.' - Photo By J. Hepp

In 1949, 22-year-old Nestor Pirrot came across a peculiar magazine. Although he had just returned to Belgium from military service in the Congo, the stories about La Malinche, Chichen Itza and Cortez in the tiny bi-weekly magazine about all things Mexico seemed more fantastic than anything he could have dreamed. Imagine his delight when he discovered the story of a sargeant in the French army with a last name strikingly similar to his own ... Camille Pirrotte.

"At that point I wasn't even dreaming that I'd be in Guadalajara one day," says Pirrot, who has now been living here for 28 years. His penchant for languages – French, Spanish, Dutch, German, Portugues, Italian, and English – allowed him to travel to the corners of the earth with his engineering job. After experiencing places like Saudi Arabia, Morocco, Aruba and Buenos Aires, he was finally assigned to a post here in Guadalajara.
Throughout all his travels, Nestor Pirrot never completely forgot about his countryman, Sargeant Pirrote.

"When I arrived in Guadalajara I read several articles on the subject," says Pirrot. "Some of them were pretty close to reality, but some of them were wrong, so I decided to do more of my own research."

Over the years he read what he could about the man responsible for bringing the famous birrote bread to Guadalajara. In his research he discovered that, although they are not directly related, they both came from Verviers, a small town in the French-speaking region of Belgium. He was also able to put together a pretty solid story.

On January 6, 1864, Camille Pirrote, a Belgian volunteer in the French Army arrived in Guadalajara just in time for the occupation of the city.

Thanks to a not-so-brilliant move by Napoleon Bonaparte, Mexico was under French control with an Austrian emperor, Maximilian I. Part of the emperor's grand scheme to win over the hearts of the Mexican people was to enlist the troops in teaching French culture and customs. Maximilian would later meet death by firing squad, but Mexico was bequeathed bread, mariachis and fine furniture.

Camille Pirrote was charged with teaching the locals to make French bread, but not long after he set up shop in a house near avenidas Vallarta and Juarez, he realized that he couldn't find yeast anywhere in the city. He improvised and left the dough out to ferment for a few days, which turned out to be a fine substitute. He began to give away day-old pieces of baked bread to the growing legions of poor in the city and the crusty slightly sour-tasting bread took the city by storm.

When the French were finally ousted in 1867, soldiers were given the option of returning home or maintaining residence in Mexico. Pirotte caught wind of the news of a passenger ship that was scheduled to make a special stop in San Jeronimo to pick up French and Belgian soldiers before rounding South America and heading back to Europe. He made the trip to San Jeronimo, but the ship never did. Disheartened but not defeated, Pirotte moved back to Guadalajara and opened up his own bread shop. He eventually married a Tapatia and took her last name, Garcia. And that, according to Nestor Pirot, is the reason why Camille Pirotte disappeared into relative obscurity.

At some point – Nestor Pirot hasn't quite worked out this detail yet –Pirrote turned into Birote, and now the bread is the essential ingredient for one of Guadalajara's most famous dishes, the torta ahogada.
There are many different versions of this story. Most maintain that Birrote was French and some say he was actually Maximilian's palace baker, but Nestor Pirrot will likely stick to his own version.

"I'm not a historian or a researcher. I'm an engineer," Pirrot says. "I do have to recognize that my interest in learning is due to the fact that our names were the same."

Homemade Mexico Cheeses: A Cornucopia Of Delicious Tastes And Textures

After those indispensable basic items of this republic's cuisine, tortillas, chiles and beans, the most important staple of the Mexican kitchen is queso – cheese.

Hernan Cortez conquered the Mexica (Aztec) capital of Tenochtitlan in 1522, and by 1527-28, the conquistadores were introducing cattle into Mexico.
Spain historically was renowned for its cheeses, and the indigenous inhabitants of what abruptly had become Nueva España quickly learned how to make a variety of quesos, which fit exquisitely with their native cuisine. It now is impossible to think of the soups, certainly of the antojitos and tamales of Mexico, without thinking of cheese.

The variety of Mexican cheeses is extensive, many of them mirroring the most flavorsome of Europe. Among the cheeses that are most widely well-known, produced and appreciated here are asadero, queso fresco, panela, quesillo de Oaxaca, manchego, añejo and Chihuahua.
The most delicious of these, of course, are not commercially manufactured but are hand-made at local farms and ranches.
Queso fresco, asadero and panela are the mainstays of most cheese-making family ranches and farms surrounding Guad-alajara.
The most popular and widely used cheese in Jalisco is a fresh, white, crumbly variety called with rural plainness queso fresco. There are several commercially manufactured brands of this "fresh cheese," but they taste exactly like that term – manufactured – in contrast to the rich homemade product.
Queso fresco is ubiquitous here. It's the cheese you find garnishing your tacos, enchiladas, tostadas, chilaquiles and frijolitos refritos, as well as being used to fill chiles rellenos (stuffed peppers).
A pale, cream-colored, moist, crumbly soft cheese, it has a creamy, somewhat mild yet faintly piquant flavor. As its simple name implies, it is not aged, but made daily, and used within a day or two. It traditionally is produced with raw milk and, after clabbering, mashed in a metate (grinding stone). It usually is formed into round cakes by hand or bound in wooden hoops.
Panela is white and damp, salty and semisoft, and easily recognized by the distinctive textured surface that comes from the shallow round baskets in which it is set to drip overnight. Panela owes its popularity both to its gentle price in local public markets and its pleasantly mild, slightly brisk flavor. It usually carries less fat, for part of the cream is skimmed off the milk before it's heated.
It is superb served with refried beans and for the topping of tostadas. As one connoisseur of panela has said, "An astonishingly simple and delectable Mexican dessert consists of equal portions of sliced panela and ate de membrillo -- quince paste."
Some aficionados of panela believe this cheese is even more tasty after it is aged. This is achieved by wrapping it in cheese cloth (manta cielo), and letting it stand for a week or more.
As it ages, the texture grows firmer, the taste sharper and the color a buttery yellow. With a week of aging, panela melts especially well, making it ideal for queso fundido (cheese fondue).
Aging panela for about three weeks also can produce a delectable soft-center cheese. Like Camembert, this aged panela is tastiest when made with milk from cattle grazing on lots of green grass. Thus, the summer rainy season is the ideal time to try it.
Asadero is, literally, "boiler" queso. An aged cheese, it is made, like queso Oaxaca, by adding rennet to warm milk into which some soured milk has been added. When the curd is firm, it's cooked and stirred carefully, in the same direction, over a vigorous flame until tough, skeinlike curds form. These are broken off into lengths, wound into small balls and cooled. Asadero is rather similar to mozzarella in both taste and consistency. However, asadero is slightly softer in texture and sharper in taste.
The process of producing such homemade cheeses has changed only slightly since 1529, though the hygiene has improved greatly. Milk is heated and stirred until the watery whey separates from the curd. Rennet is added. This is the enzyme rennin, prepared from the lining of the fourth stomach of unweaned calves, and possessing the property of curdling milk. Commercially prepared today, it comes in the form of a quickly dissolving pill. (It also has been important in coagulating casein for plastics as well as in medical and pharmaceutical preparations.) This fresh curd (in the case of panela) is kneaded by hand, pressed through sieves and the cheese placed in small baskets and left to set overnight to drip off the remaining whey, then refrigerated.
This time-consuming process, tasting the heady flavors of freshly-made cheese, buttermilk cream and butter, constitutes not only a gourmet's delight, but helps put one in touch with life's basics in an edifying and important way. Like cultivating one's own vegetables or slaughtering one's own meat, such experiences address the fundamentals of the natural world, and help us get back into accord with the primal wisdom -- at once simple and complex -- of nature, of our root animal being.
But it can be if you're not careful.

Micheladas: A Spicy Beer Craze Made in Guadalajara

Among all the great food and drink that Mexico has to offer the world – taco, quesadilla, tequila, horchata – the michelada does not rank very high. Nor should it. Who in their right mind would drink beer laced with salsa, chile pepper, tomato juice and tabasco sauce?

But if the number of michelada advertisements in Guadalajara is any indication, Tapatios just can't get enough of the drink. In any commercial part of the city, you are bound to find at least a couple of places offering a one-liter Michelada in a large Styrofoam cup for as low as 30 pesos. The basic recipe is two beers with salt and lemon. Very often there is Clamato (clam juice and tomato sauce). As for the spicy stuff, that all depends on the cruelty of the bartender.
"Anybody who sells food and alcohol can prepare a michelada," says Juan Ontiveros Gomez, one of the pioneers in the micheladas business. "You don't need [official] permission because it is nothing more than pure beer with some common ingredients."
The taste of the michelada does not sit well with many Americans, says Ontiveros. His gringo customers prefer drinking plain beer in a bottle. "The michelada irritates their system. It is a stomach bomb."
The history of the drink is about as spotty as its taste. Some say it dates back to the early part of the Mexican Revolution, when a colonel named Agustin Michel stepped into a bar in San Luis Potosi and made that first fateful order. Others claim the drink was invented in Baja California and subsequently exported to Guadalajara in the late 1990s. But that would not explain why a number of American expatriates in the city swear they were drinking micheladas at least fifteen years ago.
There is also some doubt as to where the name of the drink came from. That michelada derived from the last name of the Mexican colonel is a convenient explanation. But others believe that michelada is a shortened form of "mi chela helada," which translates to English as "My Cold Beer."
According to Guillermo Zarate Aguirre, that theory does not hold much water. "It cannot mean 'Mi Chela Helada' because the michelada is more than just a simple frosty beer. The reality is that the taste is radically changed, by making it spicy and delicious, and removing the sour taste that characterizes a regular beer."
Zarate Aguirre is the Commercial Director of Compañia Alimenticia del Norte, a Saltillo-based firm that produces a prepared blend of michelada ingredients called MicheMix. Sold in four different flavors – depending on spices and spiciness – MicheMix is a convenient way to make your own michelada. Just add five capfuls to your favorite brand of beer.
So whether you go out to a bar, or try it in the privacy of your own home, drink a michelada at least once during your time in Mexico. Think of it as a form of cultural immersion, or improving cross-border diplomatic relations. Or hell, maybe just to have a little fun. "For nine dollars, you can leave here good and drunk," Ontiveros Gomez said.

Los Cazadores Blends History With Fine Dining

Restaurants of many types abound in the string of towns dotting Lake Chapala Chapala's north shore, but Los Cazadores stands out as an establishment that dishes up a healthy serving of local history along with first rate cuisine.

Los Cazadores is located at Paseo Ramon Corona 16 at the corner of Avenida Madero, next door to the San Francisco Church in the heart of lakefront Chapala. The handsome three-story brick mansion, distinguished by two tall turrets at each extreme, is nothing less than a historical landmark, says manager Gerardo Hernandez Martinez.
Once a grand vacation home visited by Mexico's leading politicians, business entrepreneurs and other well known personalities, the building dates back to the turn-of-the-century and the presidency of Porfirio Diaz - a time considered as Chapala's golden era. Built almost entirely with materials imported from Europe, right down to the brick, most of the original features of the structure remain intact today, Hernandez says.
Luis Perez Verdia, a noted Mexican writer and politician, began construction on the elegant home in 1903. By the time work was completed in 1906, the building had already changed hands. Many of the final details were added by second owner, Alberto Braniff, whose family founded the U.S. airline of the same name. He kept the mansion for nearly 50 years, explaining why it is still widely referred to as Casa Braniff.
The building has been in Hernandez's family since 1970, when his grandfather, Jose Luis Martinez Covarrubias, bought it from Jalisco industrialist Zenen Camarena. The family founded Guadalajara's prestigious Cazadores chain in the mid-1950's and Martinez opened the Chapala restaurant in 1971. Concern over unsatisfactory outside administration and dwindling clientele spurred Hernandez to take over management of the local branch more than a decade ago.
The now experienced restaurateur shows equal pride in both his business and the extraordinary building in which it is housed. Proof of Hernandez's tireless hands-on management style became apparent when this writer called to schedule an interview, only to learn that he was working in the kitchen and "not available to pick up the phone."

"We strive to provide excellent service and attractive, appetizing platters," Hernandez says as we begin reviewing the extensive Cazadores menu. "We don't pretend to run a gourmet kitchen; it is simple food made always with the freshest ingredients."

Simple fare
Imported beef and tortillas made by hand and served hot off the comal are examples of the kind of quality he demands.
Main courses include a wide selection of meat, poultry and seafood dishes, complemented by the house specialty: Chamorro en mole casero (145 pesos), a hearty pork shank bathed in the classic Mexican sauce prepare according to a secret family recipe, wrapped in banana leaves and cooked to tender perfection. Among other popular menu selections are Tabla Especial (charcoal grilled pork loin and beef fillet served on a plank, 130 pesos), and a variety of regional delicacies such as Caviar de Chapala (a spicy carp roe appetizer, 80 pesos) - and Patzcuaro white fish.

The manager suggests local residents keep an eye out for regular ads in The Guadalajara Reporter promoting special short-term discounts available to members of different community organizations.
Hernandez says assuring friendly, attentive service to foreign customers has been one of his chief goals. Under his watch Cazadores pays close attention to the details he believes are important to this clientele, from extreme care for hygiene in the kitchen and food handling, to special touches like linen napkins. Intent on offering the best in hospitality, he works as arduously at improving his English as he does at training his waiters about all the niceties of serving the customer.

In addition to a focus on providing good food at affordable prices, Hernandez makes an effort to keep diners as happy and comfortable as possible in their surroundings. He selects background music he thinks will appeal to the clients on hand at any given moment. He tries to guide older adult customers to one end of the long outdoor porch where most clients enjoy their meals, seating families with small children to the opposite end where there is a small play area.

When time allows, Hernandez also enjoys acting as tour guide, showing his guests around Casa Braniff and pointing out the original silk tapestry wall coverings, stained glass windows, beveled and etched glass panes in the doors, handsomely adorned ceilings, fireplaces, and a stern portrait of Porfirio Diaz, who vacationed regularly at the house. There are lots of other treasures to see, including a huge wedding portrait of Hernandez' grandparents from the 1930s, and assorted antiques collected by his family.

With a growing regular clientele and expectations of receiving plenty of Easter holiday visitors, Hernandez is confident that the hard work of the Cazadores staff is starting to pay off. A personal perspective has made this writer believe the restaurant's cordial, energetic manager will be successful in keeping this historical Chapala landmark and long-known dining spot on the map.

Open Tue-Sun 1:00 to  8:00 pm
Phone: (376) 765-2162

La Bodega: Cool Comfort and Fine Cuisine

The cool and shady patio of La Bodega restaurant, located at 16 de Septiembre 124 in Ajijic, has been offering fine cuisine and a soothing oasis to satisfied customers for more than 13 years. Owner Javier Gonzalez, a public accountant and construction company executive for many years, first opened what had been the family vacation home to the public as a showroom for his artesania export business. His wife, Marta, suggested that they put in a few tables to accommodate those customers who might enjoy a coffee break. We began adding things to our menu, one thing led to another, we became a restaurant and the artesania business is gone," laughs Gonzalez.

Gonzalez, who sometimes shares the cooking duties with his employees, is clear about what his clientele prefers.
What is the most popular dish at La Bodega?
Gonzalez: Well, for pasta it's definitely fettuchini Alfredo. For fish it's the one steamed with shrimp, broccoli, tomatoes, mushrooms, green peppers and onion, all wrapped in foil. The favorite meat dish is Doc's Filet, served with both mushroom and pepper gravy.
La Bodega's official cooks are Carmen Banda and Maria Padilla. Banda has been cooking in local restaurants, including La Nueva Posada, Club Nautica, La Real de Chapala and Telares, for 15 years. Padilla began her career at La Bodega.
What's your favorite dish on the menu?
Carmen: The fettucini Alfredo.
Maria: Garlic shrimp.
What's the most important ingredient you use in your cooking?
Carmen: Garlic.
Maria: Pepper and salt.
What's the best thing about cooking for a living?
Carmen and Maria: Seeing the plates come back empty and knowing the clients enjoyed the meal.
Don't your feet get tired?
Maria: No.
Carmen: I get more tired when business is slow. When it's busy, the shift flies by.
What items are you always careful to have in your home?
Carmen: Beef, vegetables and fruit.
Maria: Beans, vegetables and fruit.
What do you do when someone sends food back, saying he or she doesn't like it?
Gonzalez: It doesn't happen very often, but when it does, we all taste it to see what went wrong. Sometimes it used to happen out of confusion because the English on the menu wasn't so good.
How are Mexican and foreign customers different about their food?
Gonzalez: Mexicans like their food heavier, more pork, more fat. Foreigners are more conscious about cutting back on fat. I have to be able to think both ways.
La Bodega's menu is composed of suggestions from the staff and customers. It's ever-changing and runs the length and breadth of flavors and textures. Gonzalez is busy putting together a special lunch menu served from Noon to 4 p.m., specializing in traditional Mexican food. He promises that it will be tasty and economical.
Comfy and refreshing on a hot afternoon, romantic with live music and twinkle lights at night, La Bodega is open every day from Noon to 10 p.m. Visa credit cards are accepted. The phone number is 766-1002.

Taco Day

I was calmly cruising the aisles of the local supermarket when I got blind-sided by the goofiest question I've had thrown at me by a fellow expat in three decades living south of the border.

"Excuse me," the pleasant looking lady said. "Can you tell me where I can find taco shells?"
"Sure thing," I fired back. "Jump in your car, head north and as soon as you cross the border, hit the nearest Safeway."
I know, it was a petulant reply, but jeez Louise, here she was in the kingdom of the fresh tortilla, looking for a box of vile imitations. And you just know she intended to take those perfectly uniform, shopworn shells and stuff them full of hamburger meat, grated Kraft cheese and some American-made so-called salsa.
In hindsight I realize the poor woman didn't have a clue what she was missing. Mexico offers more kinds of taco than Imelda has shoes, but none that even vaguely resemble what this poor soul had in mind.
That singular interlude came to mind the other day when I learned that March 31 has been declared as the Dia del Taco... as if there weren't already enough fiestas and commemorations on the nation's collective calendar!

Actually it turns out to be a totally bogus celebration, cooked up by the Televisa television chain for unknown motives. I discovered that Mexican bloggers are going ballistic over the issue. But for me it's a great justification for sinking my teeth into a platter of piquant taste treats... once my salivating palate works through all the menu options.
Diana Kennedy, the grand master of Mexican cuisine, describes the taco in its simplest terms: "a fresh, hot corn tortilla rolled around one of a hundred or so fillings and liberally doused with one of a hundred or so sauces." For brevity's sake, let's go with that definition and forget about anything involving the wheat flour tortilla.
Tacos can be grossly divided into two essential categories: blandos (soft) and dorados (crispy).
A soft taco, as Kennedy explains, is simply constructed by using a plain tortilla as a vehicle for whatever savory strikes your fancy... meat, beans, cheese, vegetables, fish or combinations thereof.
The meat category includes beef, pork, lamb, goat, chicken, even iguana. Without getting too graphic, just about any body part you can imagine is considered fair game.
A big seller is the taco de cabeza, made out of beef carved off the entire head; you can specify the part you like best. The taco al pastor, a universal favorite, is made with pork slathered in a mild chile sauce and roasted on a spit. There are tacos de bistec (thinly cut beef thrown on the grill), tacos de chorizo (spicy pork sausage), and tacos de guisado (any beast, any cut, stewed up in an infinity of manners). And just to be fair, let's mention tacos de picadillo – made with, yes, ground beef, but invariably cooked with finely diced veggies and a tomato sauce.
Choices for non-meat fillings are also endless. Among the most common offerings are frijoles refritos (refried beans), papas (mashed potatoes), rajas (poblano chile strips) and hongos (mushrooms).
There's a special category of super soft tacos that get that way through various wrapping and steaming techniques after the tortilla is filled. These are known as tacos al vapor (vaporized), tacos sudados (sweated) or tacos de canasta (basket).
Tacos dorados can be filled just about any of the fillings listed above. Sometimes the tortilla is folded over before frying, sometimes it's rolled.
The taco is the quintessential finger food, which is what makes it such a marketable, stand-up-and-go snack food for anytime of the day or night.
The topic of the taco knows no bounds, so I'll call it quits with this brief primer, hoping your appetite is sufficiently whetted to get the Dia del Taco marked in red on your calendar. But for heaven's sake, if you find yourself craving plain ground beef crammed into a pre-fab shell, get behind the wheel, head north and don't turn back!

Fonda Portugesa: Lisbon revisited

A soccer player for a semi-pro league in northwestern Portugal fell victim to ojos tapatios more than a decade ago while on a trip to Spain and now is cooking up a mean Bacalhau a Vizcaina at his Fonda Portuguesa, located in Colonia Americana.

Nino Ramos Trigueiro offers up recipes culled from the north and south of Portugal, including a daily special, that in these blustery days tends more toward the bean and garbanzo-based specialties of the north.  His tapas — salt cod with spices, Pamplona chorizo, egg and potato omelette, Serrano ham —are delicious, but the only difference from Spanish tapas he admits is that they are being prepared by a Portuguese chef.

The main menu includes fresh tuna stew, Norwegian salt cod a la Vizcain (stewed onions, tomatoes, olives, almonds served with potato slices), Mozambique-style shrimp and both octopus and conch salads. Also available are sandwiches of beef, pork loin and a Salami-like chorizo.

Saturday specialties are chard soup with potatoes and a seafood and rice dish.

A Portuguese-only wine list includes a fruity house red, two dryer reds, a sparkling wine and a semi-dry white. Two ports for dessert or apertif round out the wine cellar. Some Modelo beer brands are available. A creme tart and peach and pineapple pie finish the meal.

None of the dishes is spicy, although a hint of chili is used in some dishes.

Fonda Portuguesa is open Monday to Thursday, 9:30 to 6 p.m., Fridays until 10 p.m. and Saturdays from 2 to 10 p.m.
Morelos 1895, corner of Av. Union
Phone 13-68-26-00

La Rinconada: Downtown Guadalajara’s pearl

Some say Guadalajara’s central historical district is short on high quality businesses, but an established yet relatively undiscovered restaurant — La Rinconada — near the huge pedestrian area known as Plaza Tapatia proves to be an exception.

[Diners eat lunch in the Porfirian style restaurant La Rinconada in downtown Guadalajara. The restaurant is in a designated historical building.] How has La Rinconada managed to be both well established (it has been in business over 25 years) and at the same time often overlooked? Located in the shadow of the Teatro Degollado and in one of Mexico’s officially designated patrimonio historico buildings, the restaurant faces stiff signage restrictions that prevent passing tourists from flocking in. Yet its owner and manager, Jesus Guerrero, selects food and drink with a discriminating eye and has designed an exceptional Mexican and international menu at a reasonable price. The result is a restaurant that is not as well known as it should be, considering the food and the stately, Porfirian-era surroundings.
A few details tell the story: the deep, red color of the mild salsa served at the table, the cask of house tequila reposada that is smooth enough for a tequila non-fan to enjoy sipping straight up; a large and tender arrachera steak imported from the United States which sells for a reasonable 140 pesos; high ceilings and large windows; even the sparkling clean bathrooms.

The corner outside the restaurant is a stop on the free Saturday walking tours (7 p.m. from the Palacio Municipal or City Hall). Here, costumed guides explain the old legend. [La Rinconada manager Jesus Guererro stands proudly in the gleaming kitchen of the restaurant with his waiters and chefs.]

“It’s called the Rincon del Diablo,” manager Guerrero explained, looking skeptical. “They say that at 10 p.m., a well-dressed man would ask a passerby for the time. On hearing the hour, the man would inform the passerby that it was the hour of his death — and the passerby would die!” Of course, the name of the corner is the source of the restaurant’s name.

If one is planning on dinner at La Rinconada in connection with the Saturday guided tour, it would be well to go before the tour, as La Rinconada closes at 8 p.m. daily and the tour lasts three hours, until 10 p.m. — just in time to catch el diablo, should one so desire.

But whether going for breakfast (beginning 9 a.m.) or dinner, expect to feel well treated and relaxed. Guerrero says that any number of dignitaries have dined at the restaurant over the years, from governors to movie stars such as Liz Taylor, who came during one of her stays in Puerto Vallarta. La Rinconada also accepts large group reservations and hosts weddings and the like.

The large, international menu offers soups (I had delicious tortilla soup), salads, pastas such as Fettuchine Tres Quesos, five different cuts of steak, seafood dishes such as Shrimp with Mango and Coconut, and Italian coffee and wine.

La Rinconada Restaurant and Bar, Morelos 86 in Plaza Tapatia, two blocks behind Teatro Degollado. (33) 3613-9925. Open daily 9 a.m. to 8 p.m.

La Matera: Sublime service and flavors

The Argentine restaurant La Matera opened its doors almost 15 years ago and continues to be a big draw for fine dining.

Although well known for its varied selection of meats, the restaurant’s slogan best sums up its reputation: “Buenos vinos, buenos amigos, buenos aires.”

Unlike many restaurants in Guadalajara, La Matera’s exterior doesn’t call a lot of attention to itself. In fact, it’s easy to miss if you’re driving down Avenida Mexico because it’s set back from the street and partially hidden by a few large trees and strategically placed planters.

At first glance, the building looks like something you might find in the Deep South, with its brick exterior, wooden wrap-around porch, and ceiling fans. Inside, though, the feel is more New York, with white tablecloths, cloth napkins, low-level lighting, and servers dressed in white shirts and aprons.

My dining companion and I arrived around 2 p.m. without a reservation, but were fortunate enough to land the last available table. Once seated, a waiter promptly came to our table to take our drink orders and hand us menus. While we were glancing over the offerings, a tray arrived with three types of bread: breadsticks, rolls, and some spicy, triangular-shaped chips.

To get things started, we ordered a plate of sautéed mushrooms (champiñones y setas) and a cream of corn empanada (humita).   The mushrooms were tender, juicy and flavorful; the portion size was generous, to say the least.  The empanada, which was served in its own basket, was hot and slightly sweet, but could have been a little crispier.   

For our second round, we decided to skip the soup, salads, and pizzas – although very tempting – and went right for the main dishes... three of them: vegetable lasagna, Angus beef, and octopus.   The lasagna was loaded with fresh vegetables and served piping hot.  Unlike most lasagna I’ve tried, this one was really light on the pasta.  In fact, the vegetables dominated this dish, which was a good thing because I didn’t feel so stuffed after eating it. The Angus beef was served exactly as ordered: rare. My fellow critic, a huge meat eater, said it was the “best piece of meat” he’d ever eaten. Not being a big fan of red meat, I can only comment on the mashed potatoes that came as a side dish. In my book, they were perfect: salty, buttery, and a little bit lumpy. The octopus scored really high on the presentation scale, but was probably the least favorite of all the dishes we ordered. It tasted fine, but it was a little tough and chewy.  

Throughout the meal, the service was very attentive. The empty empanada basket and bottle of water almost magically disappeared andpassing waiters seemed nearly invisible. But before the waiters removed the other dishes, they actually asked us if we were finished, instead of assuming we were. Nice touch. (I’ve lost count of how many times a waiter has taken my plate or glass before I was actually done with the last bite, or last sip.)

Overall, the restaurant scored high in the service, ambience and food quality departments. The restaurant was completely full, yet service never suffered, and it didn’t feel too crowded or get too loud.  Prices were reasonable: 39-100 pesos for appetizers, 130-175 pesos for pizza, 115-170 for pasta, and 160 pesos and up for meats.

La Matera is located at Av. Mexico 2891 (a few blocks west of Terranova) and opens Monday-Saturday, 1 p.m. to midnight and Sunday, 1 to 8:00 p.m. Reservations recommended – call 3616-1626.

 For more information about the menu and wine list (although a bit outdated) and directions go to: www.lamatera.mx