El Quinto Cerro and Mercado de la Toluca

There are places and not places. Contrary to what happens in the commercial squares, a place outside but busy, there are also markets.

It is a public place, but not outside, simply for buyers and sellers, a place for discussion and exchange and the preservation of the perpetual circle of informal gastronomic knowledge.

Market, flea market, a magical space in which, like a kind of charm on San Juan day, appears at six in the morning and vanishes at five in the afternoon.  A place that exists and is governed by the collective and where the rules and powers of conventional space disappear.

In the foothills of the Macuiltépetl this traditional community magic happens. Macuile, taken from Nahuatl, means five andtépetlmeans hill, is a geographical point that lies in the center of the Gulf of Mexico, very close to the coast and also to the other four volcanoes.

Precisely, it is the Macuiltépetl or "Quinto Cerro" that has served since pre-Hispanic times as a geographical landmark to get from the center of Mexico to the coast. In its foothills the Macuiltépetl gives shelter to one of the most significant flea markets in the City of Xalapa.

In the Mercado de la Toluca we can find coastal and mountain products in the same place, as well as food from multiple regions of the state of Veracruz.

As if a cave was opened, at 6 in the morning the first awnings are set up, the legumes and vegetables spring out of nowhere, set up on the floor by the vendors from Otilpan and San Andrés Tlalnelhuayocan, those who are devoted to cultivating and marketing products of backyard plantings, radishes, lettuces, pumpkin flowers, trails, gasparitos (coral tree) and izote flower.

Some others venture with the perfect pairing of corn and bean, tlacoyos (tortillas) with avocado leaf, chicharrón (pork crackling) and gorditas (pancakes), prepared to reheat at home.

We go down towards the coast and the stalls of the Tuxtlas appear, with malanga (taro) and yucca. The stallholder is not willing to chat with the inquisitive, there she talks among specialists, people who look for the ingredients to remember their land, warmer and more humid like their tamales.

Already when we arrive in Carrizal we find crucetillo, a precious fruit for the field and the city, a remedy that is infused in beer or sherry, it is said that it kills any poison and malaise. There are also deergrass and chaya leaves in case the crucetillo fruit does not solve our pains.

From the sea, a few mouthfuls. Everything is concentrated in a jaiba chileatole (crab soup), with epazote (Mexican tea) and ear-shaped masa dough. They also find acamayas (freshwater shrimp) to cook, from the river to the table, or a mojarra (tilapia) with lemon or chilpaya chili.  Vega de Alatorre arrives with minilla (stew), cheeses and tamales, noble people of 10th campirana. 

In the mercado de la Toluca, you move forward twenty paces, 250 miles to the Huastec Veracruz and the air that is not imported begins to take the flavor and sound of Huastec cockerels, the tangle of the Zacahuil that sticks out between the plastics and, above, a cluster of fruits in the gourd. Everything is for sale, napkins and one or another blouse. Meanwhile, the baskets are laden with bread, together with cubes of beef fat and the corn-meal patties are cooked in the comal (griddle). 

There are many Huastecs in Veracruz, we find people from Chicontepec, Poza Rica and Tepetzintla who have different stalls and each one has their own ritual with their particular cooking style and Huastec ingredients.

We go up to the Misantla mountains, to find canchinchines, bitter nuts of an acquired taste, that are difficult on the first mouthful and then become a delicate flavor of dried fruit. At the hand mill you are prepared a freshly ground coffee and offered in the same place, tintines de maíz (corn biscuits) with a sandy consistency with a sweet flavor of sugar and aniseed.

If we pass through la Joya and las Vigas, we will find rabbit, zetas (pop-rock), tecomates (clay bowls) and hongos trompa (King trumpet mushrooms) or hongos de encino (oak mushrooms) for a marinade. Pulque stored in bottles, with a limited shelf-life, but high demand, smoked cheeses, string cheese, fresh cheese and goat's cheese. Buckets brimming with figs, plums and pears, all new and fresh brought by the producers very early in the morning.

Our Banderilla neighbors arrive with guajolotes (turkeys), roosters, rabbits and marranos (hogs), all standing carefully housed in a makeshift pen. Next to them, a large barrel of pickled wax chilis, Creole eggs and fresh beans. 

The market is a partner of the land, the market is cultivated in the land, but the land is sold in the market. The apparent asphalt sidewalks, barren on weekdays, on Sundays provide food and work to many families dedicated to trade. Trade that has filled my table with food and hope.

After 2 pm you may catch the rain. In Xalapa it always rains, but it is not a stormy downpour, it is one of the delicate and constant rains in the form of chipichipi or "cat hair,"

The stalls that resist the incessant trickle, disappear at five in the afternoon. And as they appeared, the charm closes, space-time that won't be repeated until next week. And the friends, the flavors and the festivals will come back. The guajolotes (turkeys) and the hidden jewels, the fresh piles of chachanas and moritas.