Waiter, there's a wasp in my opossum

Last Sunday we were going to go to a water park in Etla, which is a half hour north of Oaxaca.  We encouraged Max to invite a friend from school.  The first person he called could not reach his mother, who was in Mexico City, to ask her.  The second person said he could go, but they live 40 minutes south of Oaxaca, in Ócotlan.  Since all of it is new to us, we decided to go to Ócotlan instead, and to look for a swimming pool there.  Then the first friend called back.  He had reached his mother, and she said he could go.  Then, when I called the family in Ócotlan back to tell them we were leaving, they invited us to eat with them before going to the pool.


And that is how a day at a water park in Etla turned into an excursion to Ócotlan, where we did some sight-seeing, ate lunch at a funky restaurant /compound outside of town, and did not go swimming.  But no regrets.  To the contrary, most of our days here are fairly structured.  When we wake up we have a decent idea how the day will play out.  We have to, in order to manage school, Spanish classes, dance classes, soccer practices, a homework tutor, etc.  So it is a treat to drop the pretense of a plan and to see where the day takes us, like we did last Sunday.  In that case, it lead to a wonderful day of discoveries, and to meeting a gracious family that we will surely spend more time with.

Which leads to the restaurant.  It took our two-minivan convoy about 15 minutes driving on a dirt road to get there.  We parked next to a wall that hid a “palenque,” where they make mezcal, a liquor similar to tequila.  The two men running the palenque were like caricatures of whom you would expect to find making moonshine in any number of countries, our own included.  They have sampled their share of the product.

In front of the fermentation tanks

On top of the still.  Please, don't fall.

A footbridge across from the palenque lead to the restaurant, called "La Herencia."  The bridge crossed a stream that the kids explored while the adults sat at the restaurant and talked and enjoyed the mezcal.  The restaurant was a collection of brick and adobe shacks with thatch roofs surrounding a small lawn that served as a makeshift soccer field.  

Bridge to "La Herencia"

Our table

The lawn.  Cacti double as goal posts.

We ordered grilled beef fillets with pasta and vegetables, and deer in yellow sauce.  Helen preferred the deer, but she thought it was chicken.  We felt no need to correct her.

Beef with pasta and veggies

Deer in yellow sauce (that's actually red)

After lunch, we asked our hosts about chapulinis, the fried, seasoned grasshoppers that are a prized snack food here.  They said chapulinis are delicious, but it is best to eat them fresh instead of getting the old ones sold at the market in Oaxaca.  While we were talking, the restaurant owner brought us a plate of small black pellets.  He explained that they were out of chapulinis, but we might enjoy these too.  (We are left to wonder:  did he just find some random bugs and drop them into the fryer?)  At first we thought they were pill bugs, but on closer inspection we decided they were wasps.  Whatever they were, Natalie and I thought they were tasteless, and our hosts agreed.  They insist we will prefer chapulinis.  (Update:  yesterday we ate fresh, baby chapulinis at a different restaurant.  Indeed, they tasted better.  Even Max and Helen tried them.)

Fried wasps.  Surprisingly bland.

Wasps aside, we had a very nice meal.  And, as we learned after a behind-the-scenes look at where they keep some of the ingredients, with three days notice we could have sampled a number of other dishes. But they probably would have tasted like chicken.

The tortilla kitchen

Bunnies

Back-flipping squirrel

Tlacuache (aka opossum)

Now we are off to visit the ruins of Mitla with our neighbors.  At least, that's what we think we are doing. Maybe we will end up at a water park in Etla.  --Harrison