anika in mexico

I got up early to be ready to go to the market. Jenny picked me up on time, and we headed into the heart of Mexico City. The market is near the Zona Rosa, and Jenny still goes once every two weeks. The prices are great, but also there’s a sentimental reason. It’s the same market that her mother went to, and also that her grandmother went to, so Jenny is doing her part to keep up the tradition. She still goes to the same stands that her family has bought their produce from for years and years.

Back in the day, the market was outdoors, like most typical Mexican markets. At some point in the history, the government built big warehouses to hold the market, and assigned specific areas to each little stand, so they could have a more permanent place to sell from. When this happened, the stands visited by the family were stationed in different buildings, and so every other Thursday, Jenny has to go to one big warehouse and then go to the next big warehouse a few blocks away in order to get everything that she needs.

We parked the van in a crowded little Estacionamiento and headed to the government supermarket that is nearby the produce markets. Jenny needed a few staple items, and she said she goes to this supermarket when she can because they have a great variety and really good prices. Variety indeed. It was huge. I’d say the building was bigger than a Costco or a Sam’s Club, but it wasn’t a wholesale place. Just a supermarket with TONS of stuff. There was an entire area filled with cleaning products–detergents, disinfectants, polishes, bleach, you name it. They had stacks and stacks of the stuff. You’d think Mexico would be a cleaner place! There was an entire aisle for sugar. One corner of the store was dedicated to cheese, milk and other dairy. There of course was the candy aisle, and the cereal aisle, and the pasta aisle, and the liquor aisle, and the toilet paper aisle, and the housewares aisle. I really think they had everything you might possibly need. Jenny only selected a few choice items, and then we headed out to the real market.

We made our way to the first actual market building, and wiggled our way around fruit and vegetable stands until we got to our specific fruit and vegetable stand. We were greeted by the sons and grandsons of the original stand owners, and Jenny started buying. She’d make a little note in a notebook about the quantities and prices for everything. When she’d bought everything, she added up the prices and payed the total amount. We bought potatoes, onions, nopales (cactus leaves), chiles and some tangerines (which were totally green on the outside, but a nice orange color on the inside, and they let me try one and it was so sweet and good).

While Jenny was working out the details of everything she wanted, I walked around the market a bit. There were lots of fruit stands, and a few meat vendors. There were also tons of little stands where one could stop and have a taco, a bowl of soup, or some cut fruit with lime and chile. These little restaurant stands are a new phenomenon. Jenny said the market used to only be fruits, vegetables, meats, seafood, and spices, but in recent years the little restaurants set up because it’s more and more common for people to stay out all day working. Since they don’t go home, they need someplace to eat, so the restaurant stands do very well.

We wiggled through some other aisles when we were finished at the first stand, and arrived at the next which is the place to buy fruit. Here Jenny selected papaya, grapes, pears, a couple of mangos, a pineapple, apples, tuna (cactus fruit) and some bananas. Sergio is the guy who ran the stand and is the grandson of the original owner. The son of the original owner didn’t like working in the market at all, and kept Sergio and his siblings away from the market, thinking it an awful place to make a child hang out. Sergio’s father was never very friendly, but my family remained loyal and always bought from him. Sergio actually likes the market, and likes his job, so he’s always a friendly nice guy to buy fruit from.

Fruit purchases completed, we took our first bags of loot back to the car and headed right over to the second market. Jenny has lots to do, and she walks very fast. Faster than I’d walk naturally, plus she has a broken toe! I did my best to keep up with her, and we were at the next market which was several blocks away in just a few minutes. As we approached the building, we passed a woman selling chile salsa in little plastic cups that were sealed with some plastic wrap and a rubber band. She was also selling wriggling worms/maggots that were bright magenta. Jenny said that they are considered a delicacy, but she’s never eaten them, and never plans to. I told her that sounded like a good plan. We walked just a bit further, and I looked over to my left and exclaimed, “ah! more bugs!” but really it was just someone making hibiscus tea, and straining the blossoms, which oddly resembled the wriggling maggots of the same color. I laughed at my mistake as we turned right into the market.

I was greeted with a very different scene than the last market offered. I didn’t see any brightly colored fruit and vegetable stands, but instead my eye rested on pale dead chickens. Their necks hung limply over the edges of counters, their heads dangled lifelessly. I was fascinated. Fascinated, and a bit horrified at first. But in a way, it’s honest. Chicken comes from real live chickens. Pork was once an actual pig that probably rolled in the mud with all his pig friends. Goat meat comes from real live, furry goats with heads and hooves and big glassy eyes. If you see the pig that your pork tenderloin comes from, I think you’re more connected to it somehow. You’re not removed from the actual source of your food. It’s not pre-packaged, pre-seasoned chicken breast that resembles a coaster more than it does a bird. It’s not vacuum sealed in bright colored plastic with the words “low fat” or “lean” plastered over it, ensuring that you won’t get any chicken juice anywhere, like *shock* on your fingers.

Jenny walked around quickly and placed orders with various meat, seafood, and cheese stands. She could then walk back around and pick up her orders and they’d be ready for her. After placing orders we went to another vegetable stand where she had a lot to buy. Again, I went and walked around the market. I walked around the fruit and veggie stands first. They had a much better variety than the first market. They even had persimmons and figs! The people were very different here too. They were much more aggressive with their sales tactic. They’d call out as I passed, “Senorita, que quieres??” They’d offer samples of whatever I wanted to try. I would just smile pleasantly, say, “no, gracias,” and walk by, but they’d continue to call, “no quieres comprar algo?” and I’d just shake my head and keep walking.

I eventually walked over to the meat section to take a closer look. On the counters I saw whole pigs, whole chickens, whole turkeys, whole fish, whole rabbits, you name it. They were all piled or dangling there, quite dead. I saw a butcher skinning a goat. I didn’t linger in that section, but it was interesting to see.

I met up with Jenny, and we made our way out, and went over to a small store that sold only spices. I was delighted when I spied powdered anis in one of the jars. Jenny was doubtful, but I was sure Sigrid needed it for one of the new recipes she was trying. We bought 100g of it, and I couldn’t wait to tell her that I’d found it!

We then walked back to the car, all of the errands for that area accomplished.

Next we headed for the area known as Tacubaya which is kind of between where I live in Lomas and where I went to school for Spanish. We headed down a side street and went to buy some fresh masa for making tortillas. The machine that they use to grind/make the masa was turned off, but the guy who ran the store was very obliging and turned it on so I could see how it worked. I even got to climb the steps to see the hopper where the corn was stored and mixed slowly with water as it was ground up. The masa was quite hot when it came out, but it didn’t seem to bother the shop keeper who grabbed it with his bare hands to form big balls of it that he would bag and sell. The first batch was apparently not the right consistency, so he set it aside, adjusted the flow of water that was mixing with the corn, and when he was satisfied, he put some in a bag for us to take.

We passed a stand where they actually make tortillas with another machine that’s like a conveyor belt, but the lady wasn’t so friendly and wouldn’t turn it on for us, saying that she’d finished for the day.

We hopped back in the car and Jenny dropped me off with about half of everything she bought.

That was enough activity for the day, and I was definitely tired. I made myself a sandwich for lunch, and just rested for the rest of the afternoon. I’d seen so much!