Patti had arranged for a their cab driver to take us around to several craft pueblos today; and a driver indeed showed up, just not the one they had hired. But his cousin proved perfectly nice and a very competent driver. We squeezed into his yellow jalopy–the leg room wasn’t made for David and me–and off we went. First stop was Ocotlan de Moreles, a town that takes its second name for its most famous artist. The market was huge and brimming with life…
and chiles…
and death…
And of course no provincial market is complete without someone monetizing Frida.
The arcades of the town hall had been painted with murals by Rodolfo Moreles, the local hero, and one of Mexico’s most talented painters.
Moreles had used the wealth he had earned to improve many aspects of life in the town, including a beautiful restoration of the old Spanish Colonial church.
From the center of town it was just a hop and a skip to Moreles’s home, which has been turned into a foundation. One of his cousins guided us through the place; a lovely, cool house with a gorgeous courtyard garden.
The absolute highlight of Ocotlan, though, was the visit to the house of Josefina Aguilar, an aged, blind artist who has created an entire world of charming painted terra cotta figurines based on Mexican village life.
Although she can no longer see, she still shapes the figures and they are painted by her (adult) children. Her work is in many museum collections; Nelson Rockefeller was for many years her principle patron. We brought back a woman making tortillas, complete with a grinding stone and a comal, and a woman selling fruit with a huge hat spilling over with colorful produce.
Next stop was Santo Tomàs Jalieza, where the entire town rotates around the open air cooperative where the work of dozens of backstop weavers is displayed.
Patti and Sue both chose some placemats…after due consideration, of course!
We stopped for lunch at Azucena Zapoteca, a restaurant at the edge of the carver’s pueblo, San Martin Tecajate; we later learned that the restaurant was opened by Jacobo and Maria Angeles, the most renowned artists in the village. When the first thing you see at a restaurant in Mexico is a wood-fire comal, you know you’re in for something good.
And it was better than good: squash blossom quesadillas! Wonderful meal on an open porch in the sunshine.
We walked around the center of San Martin for a while, ducking into several of the many carving workshops that sell alijibres, the fanciful, brightly colored animal figures that one finds on every corner in Oaxaca.
Alijibres originated in Mexico City, where they were made of paper mâché; they were introduced to the Oaxacan pueblos only in the 1980’s, but the form proved a great fit with the local woodcarving traditions as well as the shamanistic aspects of the indigenous religion.
One of the most prominent carving studios in Mexico is run by Jacobo and Maria Angeles in San Martin. Although the most exquisite pieces are produced by these two artists, they also employ dozens of local people in the many rooms of their workshops.
The objects produced here are extraordinary, and I was immediately taken with some of the most unusual objects. I settled on this:
Precious purchase carefully wrapped, we headed back to the hotel, our heads buzzing with the incredible array of impressions from the day.
One more treat awaited us: dinner at Criollo, Enrique Olvera’s restaurant in Oaxaca (the chef was the Executive Chef at Pujol, Olvera’s flagship in Mexico City). We weren’t altogether sure what we were in for: there isn’t a lot of information out there about the place, no menu, no prices, nothing. The exterior is unassuming, but the first step inside is reassuring: a big open kitchen, with chefs bustling around, opens immediately to the right. Then you step out onto a large patio arranged around an open courtyard, with lights twinkling in the trees. Our server asked just one question: any allergies? There is a great mescal list, good beer, and Patti and Sue were happy with their Mexican wine. Then the food started coming out: seven courses, each one a somewhat modern play on the core of Mexican cuisine. The tortillas were amazing, and even better, there were several courses based on masa, with some heavenly tamales on a deep, dark mole. The bill? 45 Bucks a head plus alcohol!
We were so taken with the place, the atmosphere, and the food, that we tried to get a table for the next night, our last in Oaxaca, but they were fully booked.
We strolled home through the darkened streets, eager to walk off our meal and reflect on what had been a remarkable day.
