Holy Molé

Holy Molé!

Puerto Morelos is just south of Cancun, 20 km, and is touted as the next Isla Mujeres, but it isn’t. It has two main streets. One is called Avenue Ninos Heroes. Unlike Cancun, it has no Krispy Kreme, Hooters, McDonald's, or bull fighting ring. It does have a quant zocalo (park) where you can watch current movies for free against a white cinder block wall, or taste all the food that the vendors are cooking, frying and selling on Sabado (Saturday) night only.

Domingo is playa day, and every Mexican family is enjoying the beach. Most swim in their clothes. They bring Cokes, Orange Fanta, and Sol or Tecate cervaza, sandwiches and salty treats to eat. People-watching is fun. One year, as we were sitting on a park bench, the kind where you face one another like in Valladolid (by-a-dough-leed), a Mexican man armed with a machete brushed passed us, climbed a coconut palm, and cut down some coconuts.

Puerto Morelos is a really easy place to snorkel, with a long reef just off the white soft sand playa. It is the world’s second largest barrier reef. The signs say, even though it is a short distance, "DO NOT try to swim there." Snorkeling fuels Puerto Morelos’s economy along with some wonderful ristorantes. The pace is a slow, hot crawl.

Sandy comes back from getting her hair done at Layla’s and tells me that she has signed us up for a bird tour on the only road leading west, called the Ruta de los Cenote. The girl that colored her hair told her about it. Damn. Now the secret is out about Sandy’s hair. The hairdresser/waitress is from Milan. Of course. That makes perfect sense. A visit to a cenote is not on the schedule today. A cenote is a fresh water cave that you can swim in. The names of a few on this old chicle railroad bed are Kin Ha (I know “ha” in Mayan is “water”), Zapote, Verde Lucero (verde is green), and La Noria. There are many pantera crossing signs. It’s a jungle out there.

See these cuts? The sap runs down and is collected to make gum. Do you remember Black Jack or Double Bubble or Spearmint? Well it was. Now gum is man-made.

There are thirteen of us on this bird tour. Most are Canadians from White Horse, Alberta and Toronto, who come away from the cold the first of December and do not go back until May. You thought our 50-day Mexican vacation was excessive.

We pull over and park. Robin, our guide, walks us into the jungle. What the hell? This looks like a junkyard, but instead of cars, this Maya village has wood carvings -- started, finished and complete. Do you want a wooden bust made for you that really looks like you? Chain saws are sawing. Chainfalls abound for lifting.

Wooden benches carved in the jungle, at Mango's.

Wooden beams from the jungle at the restaurant at Na Balam.

We are in a Maya village that gets no sunlight. There are no bugs. A man who seems to be the village chief greets us. Robin says his name is Braulio Poc Chuc. He is a fourth generation wood carver and artist. His Spanish sounds Mayan. He points out macaws in the tall trees.

Macaws were high in the trees over the Maya village.

A group of green parrots fly by. Across the road where we are parked, there are many spider monkeys putting on a show, hanging from their arms and legs and really long tails. We are not that far from busy route 307 which takes you south down to Chetumal and the Belize border. So close to a major highway, yet the animal life is amazing.

We saw many of these parrots flying freely, in a group.

 Sandy kept it a secret from me that this is also a food tour. A woman introduced as Adalita has a huge pot of molé heating under an outside wood fire.

None of us understand the words she is saying, but we know the foods that she is adding. Plantains, pollo (chicken), tomato, hot peppers, azucar (sugar), and animal crackers to thicken. Mexico introduced tomato, White Owl cigars, chocolate, and tequila to the world. The original recipe in molé was stale bread. She slides in three of those big chocolate hockey pucks of Abuelita Mexican bitter sweets into the boiling cauldron. 

 I counted seventeen ingredients. Her mother, the abuela, stands to her side just silently watching. Yogi Berra said you can observing a lot by watching.

This original recipe is from the west side of Mexico at Puebla. Rumor has it that 16th century nuns of the convent Santa Rosa, upon learning that the archbishop was visiting, went into panic mode because they had nothing to serve him. Nada. The nuns started praying desperately and an angel came to inspire them. They basically threw everything they had into the pot. What they served him is today called molé poblano. Do you believe in angels? I do.

We go into the kitchen to make the tortillas. Adalita has a refrigerator covered in rust. She even has a blender and a microwave. The roof is of rusty corrugated tin. The floor is dirt. There are no walls. Somehow this works in the jungle.

 

We sit on outside picnic tables and are served some kind of jungle bebida. There are no knives or forks. Think about it. Mexican food was made to eat with your hands. Tacos, tortillas, pico de gallo (beak of the rooster), chile rellenos. Maybe not chile rellenos. Perhaps, at an all inclusive, they will mash some avocados at your table while making guacamole. Do not pronounce the “G.”  Oh and when you say salt, do not pronounce the “T.” Gracias.  

Bob with jungle bebida.

This was an awesome experience -- one of the best of this vacation.  Wish you had been there.

We say hasta la bye bye.

Hasta la juego, see you later alligator, via con dios (may god be with you). He was.

While writing this I am listening to our amigo Chucho's (Jesus, he plays saxophone) band’s CD, recorded in Puerto Morelos. Chucho and Melania met at college in es-Spain, at Salamanca University. She is Basque. He is from Mexico City. His mother’s father was Chinese. Do you still want me to read fiction?

Chucho, Melania and their niñas.

The band plays a lot of reggae. My favorite is “Tree little birds by my door step, singing sweet songs, the melody pure and good. Don’t worry bout a ting. Cause every little tings gonna be alright.” It is by Bob Marley. Chucho's esposa, our friend Melania, says, “Sometimes the lead singer / guitarist shows up, sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he shows up without his guitar.” Right now they are singing, “I’m still in love with you girl.” I am.

Chucho plays the same instrument,

 They play for tips on Playa Norte (North Beach) on Domingo. You just sit in the warm sand and sip your mescal sour, rimmed with chile pepper and sal, while the sun sets. Comedian / drinker W.C. Fields once said, “We lost our corkscrew and had to live on food and water for the next several days."

Life is muy bien in Quintana Roo, Yucatan, Mexico.

- Tocino   

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