Spanish is not my first language. Not even my second. In fact, I don’t pretend to know much of it at all. So, dealing with a Mexican airline that primarily operated in Spanish proved to be... a challenge. Our original flight was changed, then changed again—without notice. After realizing the most recent switch, I called to change it a third time. What was originally supposed to be a Valentine’s Day trip for Grant and me turned into a solo adventure in Oaxaca, Mexico.
Oaxaca is known for its food. Often referred to as the "food capital of Mexico," Oaxacan cuisine is celebrated for its bold flavors, ancestral recipes, and local ingredients like corn, chili peppers, and chocolate. After enduring some truly disappointing meals in Iceland just two weeks prior, I was thrilled to head somewhere renowned for its culinary scene. When I searched for things to do in Oaxaca, I found a calcified waterfall, ancient ruins—and, of course, food. I’d already seen my fair share of waterfalls and ruins. This trip was going to be about FOOD.
On Saturday, I attended Pride in San Diego with Grant and Ripley and then crossed the U.S.-Mexico border via the Cross Border Xpress to catch a Volaris flight from Tijuana directly to Oaxaca. I may have stopped at Shake Shack to grab a quick snack— wish San Diego Airport had this many food options!
Upon landing, I grabbed a taxi to my hotel, Hotel Casa de la Tía Tere. The ride was 490 pesos—much cheaper than the app-based car services, which were asking almost double when booked in advance. I’m not usually a fan of taxis since you never really know what they’ll cost, but this was a fixed price. Uber didn’t operate there, and DIDI (an Uber alternative) worked—but wouldn’t pick up from the airport. So, taxi it was.
The ride to the hotel took me through a rough-looking area, and when we arrived, all I could see from the street was a wall. But once I knocked and was let in by an attendant, the place transformed into a private oasis. My room opened onto a peaceful courtyard patio. It had a spacious shower, just enough pillows, and a working AC. I was set.
Knowing I’d arrive late, I wanted to make sure I started this food journey right. Multiple food blogs had recommended Origen, a restaurant run by Chef Rodolfo Castellanos, a Top Chef contestant, praised for its inventive dishes. I walked over, was seated right away, and chatted with the server about what to order.
I started with an appetizer of plantains stuffed with cheese. For my entrée, I had a pork tenderloin dish in sauce, garnished with... ants. Yes, ants. They also brought out house-made chips and salsa, plus a small tasting of squash blossom soup. Everything was delicious. I was tempted by dessert but ultimately passed—I was too full. After a short walk back to the hotel, I was ready to rest.
Sunday was my big day to explore. I’d originally planned a longer trip, but had shortened it to return early and help Grant with Ripley. After getting ready, I wandered through the town, stopping at a few souvenir shops (okay, more than a few), before heading to my 10 a.m. cooking class at Casa Crespo Cooking School.
Since this was a food-focused trip, I wanted to learn how to cook Oaxacan-style. I chose a class with no fixed menu. Instead, we went to a market, picked out ingredients, and designed our own meal. In a group of 12, we cooked Oaxaca cheese, avocado soup, stuffed chile relleno, adobo tacos, homemade tortillas, chocolate mole, flan, and sweet corn ice cream. I teamed up with a chemistry teacher from Chicago and a lawyer from Munich—great people, which made it even more fun. Best of all? We got to eat it all. The whole experience lasted four hours and was more than worth it.
This weekend happened to be Guelaguetza, Oaxaca’s vibrant indigenous cultural festival. It celebrates the region’s diverse traditions through music, dance, and traditional dress. Guelaguetza means “offering” or “sharing”—a fitting theme for a weekend centered on food and connection. There were marathons, parades, artisan markets, live music, and colorful decorations everywhere. During our cooking class, a parade passed right in front of the school. We took a break to dance, watch the performers, and catch candy being thrown into the crowd. Everyone was having a blast.
My favorite part of the parades was the Tiliche—a dancer in strips of colorful cloth, an animal-skin mask, and an oversized sombrero. Without context, he looks terrifying. But once you realize he’s a beloved, mischievous character, it makes sense why everyone cheers when he appears. I tried to learn more about him—he’s said to have originated in Putla Villa de Guerrero—but beyond that, the history is murky.
After class, I returned to the hotel for a quick cleanup. Though it was close to restaurants, it wasn’t near many tourist attractions. Refreshed, I headed back out to explore. One must-see spot was the Templo de Santo Domingo de Guzmán, a breathtaking Baroque church rich with history and cultural significance. I’ve visited plenty of churches, but this one was especially ornate and awe-inspiring.
I spent another few hours wandering through cobblestone streets lined with colorful flags, oversized decorations, and music drifting from all directions. And yes, I may have stopped in a few more souvenir shops.
Dinner that night was at Las Quince Letras, a Michelin-recognized restaurant known for its creative takes on Oaxacan cuisine. Unlike other restaurants, the menu here was entirely in Spanish. I tried using Google Translate—it failed spectacularly. My server smiled politely as I spoke in English. I had a hunch his English was as limited as my Spanish. With no reliable cell signal, I had to wing it.
I ordered a taco with tasajo (thin-sliced beef), cheese, and chapulines (grasshoppers). Insects are surprisingly common here—you’ll find them at nearly every market. Once I got past the mental hurdle, it was actually good. Grasshoppers don’t have a strong flavor—they’re more of a crunchy texture than anything. Next came a green soup—when I asked what was in it, the waiter simply said, “herbs.” I think it included avocado leaves and other greens. For the main course, I had a mole trio: red mole with beef, black mole with chicken, and almond mole with pork. The black mole was the standout for me—deep, rich, and complex.
And that was it. Since it was Sunday, most places closed early. I went back to the hotel, got a great night’s sleep, had breakfast the next morning, and made my way back to San Diego.
It was a short trip, but I’m so glad I went. The food, the festivities, and the energy of Oaxaca were unforgettable. That said, I’ll probably need a short break from Mexican food—at least until I’m ready to put my new cooking skills to the test. Mole, anyone?