House of Many Moles
Explore the deeply flavorful cuisine of Oaxaca at Guelaguetza
By Richard Foss
Thanks to the recent electoral upheaval that put the southern Mexican state of Oaxaca in the news, a fair number of Californians now know where the place is and even how to say it (a change from the days when I regularly heard it pronounced O-axe-acka). The unrest has led to disruption of daily life and vandalism of beautiful architecture; possibly the only good thing to come of it would be people getting curious enough to learn about its distinctive culture and cuisine.
The restaurant that introduced Los Angeles to Oaxacan food is Guelaguetza, named after a folk dance of southern Mexico. L.A. has three restaurants with this name, but the original on Palms Boulevard is by far the best. The interior of this small place just east of Sepulveda is cozy and colorful, decorated with folk art and old photographs, and, though the clientele is mainly Hispanic, Anglos are warmly welcomed.
The most famous specialty of Oaxaca is mole sauce. (No, it's not made from furry underground critters; it's pronounced mo-lay.) These rich concoctions contain chocolate, herbs, ground nuts, and spices, and they're profoundly savory and complex. Our meal started with two baskets of chips, one topped with a lightly spicy red mole made with roasted chile peppers, the other with the famous black mole, a denser sauce with strong aromas of herbs and a rich, chocolate undertone.
We intended to start with a cactus salad ($4) and empanadas filled with chicken in yellow mole sauce ($6), then follow with tamales and a pizza-like clayuda, but the items arrived so close together that the center of the table quickly filled with food, and we tried it all.
I've had the cactus called nopalitos in salad before and liked the flavor, but not the slightly slimy texture. Here, the cactus was cut small, so the texture was less apparent, and the other vegetables added flavor and texture contrasts. Nopalitos still aren't my favorite vegetable, but I liked them more here than anywhere else.
I expected the empanada to be finger food - the usual fried or baked turnover found all over South America - but the Oaxacan version is more like a corn-flour crepe. Ours was thin and crisp, stuffed with chicken in a yellow mole made with olives, raisins, and spices - ingredients introduced by the conquistadores, put to good use by the indigenous people. We've since tried an empanada filled with pumpkin flowers and squash, which was just as delicious, and we also eyed a version with the corn mushroom called huitlacoche and one with a mix of chopped grasshoppers(!).
While the clayuda ($8) is among the most famous Oaxacan specialties, I found it more odd than good. Perhaps it's a matter of texture - the base is a tortilla that's slow-smoked for hours over a low fire, giving it an interesting flavor but a texture similar to stale bread. That texture is deliberate and prized among connoisseurs, but not to my taste, especially when combined with the slightly dry, feta-like Oaxacan white cheese. Our clayuda with mixed meats included a very good homemade sausage, dried beef that was delicious but halfway to jerky, chicken, and spicy smoked beef. As a way to sample several meats in an interesting culinary context, it was quite worthwhile, though I'm not in a hurry to order it again.
I'd certainly get the chicken tamale again, though. Encased in a banana leaf, rather than a cornhusk, it was the most moist and flavorful I've ever had. The masa was ground so fine that it resembled lasagna noodles, and I scraped at the inside of the leaves for every last bit.
Guelaguetza serves beer and wine, but try a fresh fruit drink like pumpkin water, or the freshly squeezed tamarind juice that is vastly better than the sugary soda version many places offer. Finish with the best hot chocolate you've ever tasted - the Mayas discovered chocolate, and they've had plenty of practice at making it a hedonistic delight.
I have visited Guelaguetza several times and am working my way through the menu, savoring the cuisine of a corner of Mexico I hope to visit one day. Whether or not you dream of going there, you should investigate this pleasant little restaurant with its deeply flavorful cuisine, so unlike the boring parade of tacos and burritos found elsewhere in L.A.
Published: 11/09/2006
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