Seeing Jalisco Through a Different Lens
Part One: Tlaquepaque
Jalisco is known for three things: Mariachi, Birria, and Tequila; it’s also my father’s home state. My mother’s from Michoacan, and growing up, I interacted more with her side of the family. Most of my dad’s family lives here in the United States, so there weren’t many people to visit in his hometown of Poncitlan, save for my grandfather and an aunt. My few visits to his town consisted of my dad introducing me to a random assortment of aunts, uncles, and cousins — most of whom I’d never see again.
My dad would talk about visiting other towns in Jalisco, like Chapala, Puerto Vallarta, and Tonalá, but they never caught my attention. A few years ago, my parents met up with my mom’s brother in Jalisco to attend a wedding on my dad’s side. I chose not to go because I wasn’t particularly close to that side, and I wish I had chosen differently — not because of the wedding itself — but for the mini adventure afterward. During a free day, my parents, my uncle, and his family took a day trip guided by my dad’s cousin, Nico. They drove by the ranch of Regional Mexican music legend Vicente Fernadez on their way from Guadalajara to Chapala. The ranch, Los 3 Potrillos, is a popular tourist destination for his fans, with horse stables, a charro specialty shop, and a restaurant. My family stopped by for a few photo ops with a few cardboard cutouts of Vicente and continued their journey.
Before making it to the pier, they stopped for lunch in Ajijic, at the Monte Coxala resort, as Nico suggested. The resort features a spa, spacious outdoor views, and beautiful suites. The resort’s aesthetic is a tribute to Mexico’s ancestral architecture, which you can see in the carvings on the building exteriors and the giant Olmeca stone head. Monte Coxala is big on wellness, so they make excellent use of their natural resources and offer natural spa treatments using chocolate, honey, and their hot springs. Going through all the photos my family took made me realize I was missing out on Mexico’s rich culture, especially in Jalisco.
When my mom brought up the idea of visiting my cousin and her husband in Tlaquepaque, Jalisco, I jumped at the opportunity. I casually scrolled TikTok to get a taste of its attractions, historical monuments, and extensive gastronomy. I was ready to see something new but didn’t know I’d return from this trip with a renewed sense of identity.
I arrived at the Guadalajara airport for the first time, and no less than 5 minutes after deplaning, the mosquitos began to descend on me. I brought bug spray with me, but it was in my check-in baggage, and I was not going to open up my 50-pound luggage on the ground right before going through customs. I tried to distract myself from the little buggers by thinking of getting my hands on some tacos, wherever they may come from. I’ve spent years trying to find a taco in the US that could make me say, “This tastes just like the tacos from Mexico!”
Some have come close, but ultimately, nothing beats a taco from the taqueros lining up the streets in Mexico. Once we left the airport, we took a shuttle to the local Enterprise Rent-A-Car to rent a van for the whole family to travel together. On the way to Enterprise, I looked at all the restaurants and wondered what we would eat that night. Restaurants and stalls selling tacos, birria, tortas ahogadas, and other Jalisco favorites lined the highway.
Once my family completed the van rental process, we were on our way to get those tacos! We stopped at a small chain restaurant, Los Tarascos. I ordered 3 chorizo and 3 al pastor. What was unique about this shop’s al pastor was that rather than having the meat chopped up into tiny pieces, they placed the slices as they came off the trompo right onto the tortilla. For the uninitiated, al pastor is a style of meat heavily influenced by Lebanese shwarma, and like shwarma, the meat is placed on a large skewer that slowly rotates as it cooks. Taqueros typically place a thick slice of pineapple at the top of the trompo and cut tiny chunks onto the tacos with incredible precision.
I ordered a strawberry-flavored horchata to accompany my tacos, which was brought out in a large schooner glass. I ordered the regular size, and my dad ordered the large, so at first, I thought they had given me his horchata, but I quickly realized this was not the large. My dad’s horchata came in a massive glass tankard that would put many Oktoberfests to shame. Soon after, the wait staff brought our tacos out, and we began to feast away. Something about the first bite of a taco in Mexico brings me a sense of comfort and joy. Of course, I also felt quite full after ordering seconds and scarfing those down.
We paid the check and took off to get some much-needed rest before hitting downtown Tlaquepaque later in the evening.
As we arrived at the center of Tlaquepaque, it was clear everyone had the same idea to go out that night and enjoy themselves. The brick-paved streets were filled with local families, couples, groups of friends, and plenty of tourists. Immediately, the scent of freshly baked bread, guajes, and other mouthwatering street foods permeated the warm and humid air. The sounds of vendors selling their wares, music blaring from portable speakers, and laughter surrounded us and created a festive atmosphere.
Stall after stall of artisan crafts lined each side of the wide alleyways with no shortage of beaded art, ceramics, and silver. So much silver. Tlaquepaque takes its art seriously, with endless galleries of mixed media art showcased through vast windows. However, you wouldn’t have to go through the galleries to get your fill of art. Statues of all sizes were scattered through the streets — from small metal birds perched on intricately designed window bars to a towering sculpture of a man carrying a board of tiny people-like figurines above his head.
Only a few minutes into our walk, it became abundantly clear why towns such as Tlaquepaque are deemed Pueblos Magicos. There is magic everywhere you look, and I’m not saying that to be cheesy or sappy. There is something so incredible about being in a town with such a rich history as Tlaquepaque. This town predates the arrival of the Spanish and is known for artisanal pottery and blown glass. Something I’ve always admired about small Mexican towns is the abundance of color on the exterior of buildings. With the mass production of homes here in Southern California came a complete loss of character in homes. Beige, off-white and the lightest shades of brown dominate these builds. It’s not exclusive to homes either; many fast food and casual dining spots we’ve grown up with have rebranded with dull and depressing grays and browns. But in Mexico, there is so much color everywhere you go. I can’t help but feel like Dorothy when she wakes up in the land of Oz when I visit Mexico.
My favorite bread of all time is the concha, and while many people don’t care for them because of how dry they can be here in the States, they’re a whole other deal in Mexico. The conchas here are unbelievably soft and much more moist than the ones in the US. I stopped by a card selling massive conchas, larger than the size of my hand! Whereas most conchas are vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry, the conchas at this stand are both vanilla and chocolate. They reminded me of the famous New York black and white cookies.
After buying some bread, we quickly stopped at the Parroquia San Pedro Apóstol, the main church in Tlaquepaque proper. Regardless of what religion you practice, if you even practice, stopping by the massive Catholic churches in Mexico is a must. There is quite nothing like that here on the West Coast. Towering columns of volcanic rock, gold-painted trim, and the scent of incense envelop you the second you step in. Despite the wild and festive atmosphere right outside the stone walls, the devotees inside the church are at peace, listening intently as the priest leads them in prayer so they may respond appropriately. Tourists come and go to get a view of the spectacular architectural styles of the building, blending various elements of Baroque, Roman, and Byzantine.
After walking through the plaza and taking the town in for a couple of hours, we were off to our main event: El Parian. El Parian is one of the biggest draws for tourists in Tlaquepaque. Formerly an open-air market, this historic landmark houses various bars and restaurants that form a ring around a beautifully decorated bandstand. The restaurants here are famous for their cazuelitas, clay bowls filled with a blend of fruits, grapefruit soda, citrus juice, and your choice of tequila. Note that some restaurants do have a 2-drink minimum, so be sure to check with each establishment if you’re not sure you’ll be able to meet that requirement.
The bright red and white equipal chairs at El Toreo caught our attention, and the staff graciously welcomed us. As I sat, I admired our table, which appeared to be a blend of broken and intact tiles meticulously placed and encased in resin. I then looked at our surroundings and noticed we had a fantastic view of the bandstand and the main patio. Since we were near the first days of November, the patio was decorated for Dia de los Muertos with vibrant and colorful papel picado and cempacuchil flowers, their orange petals setting the place ablaze. Our server came around to take everyone’s orders and informed us the show was about to start. There are two things people come to El Parian for: tequila and mariachi. Before the mariachi took to the stage, we watched a traditional indigenous danza and a group of ballet folklorico dancers.
We sipped on our cazuelitas throughout the night and enjoyed the festivities. My mom thoroughly enjoyed the blend of fresh fruit in our beverages, so I gladly gave her most of mine. By this point, it had been saturated with grapefruit soda and tequila, making for a sweet, sour, and boozy treat.
I have been to my fair share of mariachi performances. Still, there’s something special about watching them in the place where they originated while sipping tequila, another of Jalisco’s exports. We are nothing if not a celebratory culture; we were exhausted by the end of the night. Ready for a good night’s sleep, we paid our bill and returned to my cousin’s house. Tomorrow’s adventure would require a generous amount of goodnight’s rest.
