Oaxaca to Yucatan Peninsula Rick Stein's Road To Mexico

It was 1968 when I first came here to San Francisco.

I wanted to do my own road trip from the United States

to the Mexican border and beyond.

My dad had just died, I'd finished school,

I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.

It was the year after the Summer of Love, and things like enchiladas,

burritos, guacamole, I'd only heard of from the radio,

but they sounded wonderful.

But it wasn't just the food,

I wanted to live a little bit dangerously.

And I did.

Mwa!

Oh!

This is the last leg of my travels, I'm heading towards the Yucatan,

and the Gulf of Mexico,

probably the most romantic and mystical part of the country.

In the early 1900s this was a big tobacco growing area run by Cubans,

and we just happen to spot this roadside cafe

with a rather tantalising spit-roast barbecue pork

that simply couldn't be ignored.

This is just one of those stories

that when people up sticks and move to another country,

they bring their food with them,

it is that important to them.

How wonderful, just to be driving past here, massive barbecue pit,

logs aplenty, pigs are roasting, chickens are roasting.

Just some of the crispest looking skin I have ever seen crackling.

And look at the portions, I don't know if I can finish that.

But my anticipation is immense.

That, and a beer, on a hot afternoon.

Always take the second one, because it is warmer.

It is a bit selfish, though.

My translator and guide has been Verity Oswin,

an Australian who made Mexico her home 15 years ago.

We found ourselves talking about the country she knows so well.

Mexico is a construction, really, it is many countries.

The differences and the contrast in Mexico, the rich and the poor,

so many different indigenous groups, the mountains, the coast,

the topography, it's many countries.

You never stop learning in Mexico.

I have lived here for 15 years and I've still got things to learn.

Before this trip, I have never eaten Cuban pork.

Excuse me.

Buen provecho! That's what we say here, it's bon appetit,

we don't really have an expression in English.

It's really nice, in Mexican restaurants,

when you walk into a restaurant,

you say, "Buen provecho!" to all of the other tables,

which at first I thought was really strange, in Mexico,

but, literally, it's more of a communal atmosphere

and you engage with other diners.

I suppose that is one of the things about Mexico.

Everybody's so welcoming.

You really don't get the feeling

that they don't want you in their country.

Mexicans are very hospitable.

The famous Mexican phrase, "Mi casa es su casa", my house is your house.

That's Mexico for you.

People have said to you on the trip, "Welcome to my home."

Individual Mexicans are the most wonderful people in the world.

Poverty, in my mind, and inequality,

they are the reasons behind the insecurity in Mexico.

I haven't felt threatened in any way here.

I think sometimes I feel more threatened in London,

I know that's an obvious thing to say, but sometimes I do.

You know.

Also, it is just the fact that everybody's so nice, you know.

It's sort of like, you think, they must be

having us on a bit,

because, just, everybody smiles,

everybody is thoroughly pleased to see you.

And the food's rather good!

That matters a lot to me.

Food is very important to them, if you show interest in their food,

they will instantly warm to you.

I love it, I absolutely love it.

I was keen to go to Campeche, on the Gulf of Mexico,

because this was the main port, a sort of springboard, if you like,

for the Spanish conquering Mexico.

Old Town Campeche reminds me a bit of downtown Cadiz.

The architecture's the same,

except, here, there's more of an emphasis on pirates.

Because, in the 1500s and 1600s,

this was pirate central casting headquarters!

This street here could have been full of Cornish and Devon boys,

full of grog and itching for a fight.

All pirates came to Campeche,

whether from Holland, France, and, of course, England

because the booty was so good.

I was told that your average pirate crew man

was looking to make enough money to buy a little pub back home,

overlooking the sea.

Anyway, the focus of their attention, to quote John Masefield,

was the "Stately Spanish galleons",

"Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores."

But it wasn't just the pirates,

everybody in those days who came to Mexico came to Campeche.

It was so bustling and so busy,

that there is even an expression that lives today.

Campechano, which means a veritable mix.

Pirates, to most of us, are rather a jolly figure, rather funny.

The reality, of course, was nothing like that

but then, when you look at history,

in 1663, a certain Christopher Myngs,

assembled a fleet of 14 ships and 1,400 men, all jolly pirates,

and actually invaded Campeche, sieged it,

and took it over for a week,

and made off with loads and loads of booty.

The international outrage was extreme, and Charles II, the king,

had to issue an apology -

however, for his part, took a big proportion of that booty,

and rewarded Christopher Myngs, first by making him an Admiral

and then by giving him a knighthood!

A great example of British hypocrisy, I think you'll agree.

I've been told by those in the know

that one of Campeche's most famous dishes

is the local shallow water octopus.

The dish is named after a famous pirate.

Well, we don't call him a pirate.

This dish is called Sir Francis's, as in Drake, octopus.

I'm just noticing that Carlos is frying the almonds here

and the octopus on a la plancha, in olive oil, and that's not unusual,

in this part of Mexico, simply because the Spanish,

when they arrived here,

needed to have some things that reminded them of home.

Carlos chops up some guajillo chillies,

leaving most of the seeds behind.

Paprika, it came from Mexico,

and the whole of Europe fell in love with it.

And now, some garlic.

I think it is fair to say, judging by the crew's faces,

that this is not a dish that would please everyone but, for me,

it's one of the reasons I'm here.

This tender, sweet octopus from the bay,

with more than a hint of chilli and paprika

seems a fitting dish for the likes of Sir Francis.

Whether he actually had it is another matter.

Well, the kitchen's getting quite busy now,

so I need to get this tasting over and done with,

so they can get on with their work. I've just watched it being made.

Maestro, maestro!

The octopus is superb, a very nice dish, and very simple, like it lots.

So, Carlos,...

..muy bien, that is.

You are fast becoming one of the most famous chefs in Mexico,

why do you think people love your food so much?

HE SPEAKS SPANISH

He says, "The best thing is the flavour, of course,"

"and it is also the heart I put into making these dishes,"

"which people seem to like, and I like cooking them."

I'd just like to say, put it there!

-It's very...

-Thank you.

You know, it's seafood.

He's good at it.

So I thought I'd cook a dish from this part of Mexico,

back home in Padstow.

It's all from the local supermarket.

And it's coconut prawns with a fruity hot sauce.

So the prawns are fairly quick to cook

but the sauce takes a little bit longer.

And it's a very exotic mix of tropical fruit,

citrus juice, and chilli.

Just cut this papaya in half, scrape out the seeds,

and scoop out the flesh,

and into my blender.

You use a blender a lot in Mexican cuisine,

I guess it's because there was a tradition of using a molcajete,

which is their version of the mortar and pestle,

but now everyone in Mexico uses a blender.

And now, the chilli, this should be a habanero,

but actually it's a Scotch bonnet.

They are right at the top end of the Scoville Scale, really, really hot,

but I am scooping out the seeds.

It will still be quite hot, but you need to get rid of the seeds.

In they go. Couple of shallots, and then some orange and lime juice,

and now, apple cider vinegar a couple of tablespoons of that.

A gloop, in other words.

And now some garlic.

You don't need to chop things up to put in a blender,

you do need to chop the garlic in half a couple of times

but, otherwise, don't waste time.

Similarly, ginger, just slice that,

and a little bit of spice, very popular spice in Mexico,

particularly in sweet things, allspice berries, a couple of those.

A little bit of sweetness with some brown sugar.

And, finally, salt.

I'm just going to pour that out

into a pan, and bring it to the boil,

and simmer it for about five minutes,

just to cook the shallots and the garlic out,

and that is going to be the dipping sauce for the prawns.

That's very good, just testing the heat.

It is hot but not seriously hot.

So now to cook the prawns, first of all, make a simple batter,

got some flour in this bowl,

adding a little bit of baking powder to lighten it.

Pinch of salt. And some beaten egg,

about half what I've got in here.

Don't want too much of that.

And water. I never totally specify how much water.

You just...

Thickness of double cream, thick cream, I always say.

Tiny bit more water.

I really like this dish, what I particularly like,

you have this lovely fruity hot sauce, from the tropics,

and then, in the batter, you've got coconut,

so it, sort of, goes together really well.

So, the prawns, season well with salt and then dust with flour.

I'm using raw tiger prawns from the local supermarket,

which mostly come from Thailand.

I don't think there's much out there that would make a good alternative,

so raw tiger prawns it is.

They go into the batter, and give them a good dunking.

Now, the special bit, the desiccated coconut,

mixed with those lovely crisp Japanese breadcrumbs, called panko.

I've got my oil on already at 190 degrees.

No hotter, otherwise it would be burning.

In they go. I think there is enough oil in there, I've judged it,

to take all the prawns in one go.

I just love the way they foam up.

There we go.

Just going to cook those till they're nice and light brown.

I never tire of telling chefs,

don't overcook fish or seafood when you're deep frying it.

You don't need to have a dark brown colour,

because otherwise the prawns or the fish will be well overcooked.

Light brown, always light brown.

These are now ready.

Light brown.

They won't miss one. I've just got to try it.

That sauce, the heat, the sourness, the sweetness, the fruitiness of it.

And these crisp breadcrumbs and the sweetness of the prawns,

that is...holidays!

I have a friend, a chef, like me, who says, with some frequency,

I may add, the best part of a chef's job

is waiting for the boats to come in and thinking of fish.

Well, I know that feeling all too well.

It's an expectant time on Campeche's beach-front, even the birds know it.

We've actually asked these fishermen

to cook fish caldo for us on the beach.

But, this is what they'd normally do.

They go out fishing for two or three days.

They've only been out for a day this time,

but, normally, they'd find an island and cook using driftwood.

Or they've got a little stove

if they haven't got anywhere near an island.

Why I really like it,

is because you think of fish soups, like bouillabaisse,

and these other dishes.

They were always, originally, fish stews that fishermen cooked

when they were out at sea.

These days, bouillabaisse fetches astronomical prices

in South of France restaurants

and no fishermen would dream of cooking a bouillabaisse at sea,

but this is the real deal,

this is what it would have been like.

I think that's going to be quite a lovely caldo.

Tomatoes, onion, green pepper, salt.

Ordinary pepper. But what is going to make it really good

is the freshness of that fish,

and then I think they're going to serve it with a salsa,

made with sliced onion, habanero chilli, lots of it,

and lime juice.

Having made the base, they top it up with water, fresh water.

After all, it is a soup.

And now, the fish.

There's quite an assortment, including little bream,

which they call chachi,

and all the fish have been carefully descaled.

Otherwise, what a disaster.

Finally, coriander, lovely fresh fragrant spicy coriander,

and that, I think, is that.

FISHERMEN CHAT QUIETLY IN SPANISH

Ah!

Very good.

Oh, that's lovely.

I love the lime, I love the seasoning.

Just got to try a bit of the fish.

-Caliente.

-I don't mind.

Habanero, mwa!

It's really good.

With fish as fresh as this and lime juice, tomato, chilli,

green peppers, it's just delicious.

It was very good indeed, I know it looks a bit rustic,

but the taste was terrific and the fish couldn't be fresher.

I think these guys should seriously think

about opening a restaurant here.

After all, eating fresh fish, in a hut, next to the sea,

is part of most people's dreams.

You just need a few ice-cold beers

and a couple of chairs would definitely help!

The fishermen told me that tonight was a very special occasion.

They said I must go to a famous mass by the sea.

-PRIEST:

-Como hijos de dios intercambian ahora

un signo de communion fraterno.

This mass is celebrating the 500th anniversary

of the first mass on the Mexican mainland.

And I've just been told what that would have been like.

Where we are standing now is actually the beach.

Beyond, the sea has receded

but we would have been standing here on the beach,

and just this idea of a group of Spanish people

surrounded by Mayan temples and the Mayan civilisation,

celebrating Mass.

But what I like about it, it's not in some football stadium,

because it is such a big deal, it is just here,

and the mass has been said partly in Spanish and partly in Latin.

Now everyone is celebrating Holy Communion,

which is going to take a while,

because I think the average parish priest

would give their back teeth to have a congregation like this.

But it's not enormous.

The Spanish ambassador is here.

It just feels very local.

We are driving towards Uxmal and the famous ruins.

We happened to pass through this little town.

For me, at least, there seemed to be something reassuring about it.

It was very ordinary and, in some way, familiar too.

I wanted to stop the van, get out and have a look around.

This is a little town called Pomuch.

If you went, as you might,

on holiday to somewhere like Merida, or Campeche, or Cancun, perhaps,

you probably would never come to somewhere like this.

But it is so nice, it's so friendly,

it's so relaxed.

I'm just loving all these bicycle things

which everybody uses to get around.

There are very few cars here and it's the sort of aspect of life

in Mexico which so many people miss.

But I don't think they should because it's good for the soul.

As far as I'm concerned these tortillarias are the kingpin

of any village, or town,

because this is where people come to get their maize ground

and also to buy ready-made tortillas,

a staple of any Mexican meal.

This is really interesting.

I mean, this is the real deal with tortillas.

All these people are bringing their own corn in to have it ground.

But before they bring it in they nixtamalize it.

That's when you boil corn with lime to soften the skin

and make it much more pliable and make it into a proper dough.

But then they take the corn home and make their own tortillas.

And it is worth pointing out that tortillas here

are only truly special when they're made with fresh corn, like this.

In other words, you grind the corn, you make the tortillas.

When you have to grind the corn, dry the ground corn

to make masa harina, that's cornflour, cornmeal,

and then make a tortilla, you lose a lot of flavour.

When I say lime I don't mean the fruit.

No, it is the chalky substance that comes from limestone,

used mostly as a fertiliser.

It is amazing who comes up with these things.

I love riding in the crew bus best of all,

away from all those hot kitchens.

For me, looking out of the window,

observing and thinking about Mexico is manna from Heaven.

There's a couple of explanations

as to where the word Yucatan came from.

The first is Nahuatl language, that's the Aztec language.

Yucatlan, which meant "land of richness".

But the one I like is when Hernan Cortes

sent his first letter back to Charles V of Spain.

He said the name came from the first explorers,

Spanish explorers that arrived in this part of Mexico

saying to the Mayans, "Where is this?"

And they said, "Yucatlan, yucatlan"

which in Mayan means "We don't know what you're saying".

VARIOUS BIRD CALLS

This is the city of Uxmal.

I am tempted to say it's got nothing to do with food,

but really you can't separate

the people who lived here over 1,000 years ago

and the food that Mexicans eat today.

You see, they were very advanced in every way,

especially when it came to growing food.

They knew about slashing and burning, crop rotation, irrigation.

They grew pumpkins, avocados, chocolate, and chilli,

and they were very clever

because they produced more than they could eat.

I remember in the late '60s reading the book Chariots Of The Gods.

Everybody was reading it, it was a cult book,

and it suggested the advanced architecture

and the city planning in the ancient Mayan and Aztec communities

were inspired by visitors from outer space.

Then, we all liked to believe in UFOs,

but I think, over the last 50 years, people, experts,

have pooh-poohed that idea.

But I have to say looking around it looks so modern.

It sort of reminds me of an old Odeon cinema,

the designs look like the origins of Art Deco.

That could be a sign for the tube.

Fanciful, I know,

but the strong overall impression I have here

is that all our ancient castles, cathedrals, and monasteries,

back at home, have a practical explanation.

But this place is still a mystery.

On a more prosaic note and not far away from Uxmal

are these traditional Mayan houses.

They are simple, thatched, one room, no windows,

just two well-placed doors,

one that lets in the morning light

and the other where you can see a sunset.

This is Don Hernan.

He still reveres and worships the Mayan gods.

His grandfather was a priest and he has a shrine in his garden.

He fills these gourds, these cups, with a corn-based drink,

flavoured with the juice from a root called xak.

He doesn't drink it himself.

This is strictly for the gods.

HE SPEAKS HIS OWN LANGUAGE

During the course of this, he's praying,

asking the gods to help him with his crops and protection for his family.

I found it totally absorbing.

HE CONTINUES IN HIS OWN LANGUAGE

Out of the blue the wind sprang up,

the trees came to life, as if on cue.

I don't think I'll ever forget it.

And then, as suddenly as it appeared, it was over.

I wanted some food that was typically Mayan,

something Don Hernan's family would eat on a daily basis.

So his wife Azaria told me she'd make a Mayan dish

called papadzulez, which means food of love.

It comes with a sauce

and here she's making a paste from pumpkin seeds.

I hope she doesn't mind.

I'm just going to have a sniff of that.

That's so lovely.

Those are toasted pumpkin seeds.

She's called Azaria and just said she couldn't do this properly

because she has got a sore arm, but my gosh she's doing a good job.

But testimony to the efficiency of the metate.

But it smells so good and I think pumpkin seeds

are a fundamental part of the cuisine of Southern Mexico.

It's almost like their version

of sesame seeds in the Middle East in things like tahini and hummus.

But I mean it has just got this lovely smell

and you encounter it so often in moles.

It's a really good way

of flavouring and thickening sauces, essentially.

For the sauce they call sikil pak,

she has fresh tomatoes boiled and skinned.

She then crushes them with a little bit of salt.

Now chopped chives and coriander.

I think coriander is becoming nearly my favourite herb of all time,

but basil still has the honour.

So the crushed pumpkin seeds go in with the tomatoes

then the green herbs we've just seen.

Now she simply smooths that mixture on a freshly-made tortilla,

the good old tortilla, the backbone of Mexican,

and, in this case, Mayan gastronomy.

All she does now is to place a boiled egg on top, and that is it.

Muchas gracias, Asaria.

Oh, it's delicious, lovely scent of corn,

a beautiful tortilla,

and the sikil p'aak is the best I have tasted,

it is so fresh.

With that coriander and tomato and the chopped chives in it.

It is a lovely little dish, I must say.

And who would have thought in these very humble surroundings,

you could get something so tasty?

But she is a very good cook.

One of the most popular and cheap dishes I have come across down here

is pan de cazon.

I thought I would make it back in Padstow.

It is layers of tortilla with fish.

Cazon means dogfish,

but that is endangered back at home,

so I am making it with sardines and the famous refried beans.

So, to make the sauce,

I've got some oil in the pan,

and I'm just adding some sliced onions with some chopped garlic.

And now epazote.

You may not have heard of epazote,

it is probably the most popular herb in Mexico,

and it grows like a weed everywhere, but not here.

Well, it would if you could get the plants.

It is a bit sort of thymey, but a bit not.

And now the chilli and I have got a Scotch Bonnet chilli here

so I am taking the seeds out because that is where all the heat is.

It will still be quite hot.

Just slicing that lovely, small, red chilli up.

And finally about 500, 600g of passata and then some salt.

So I am just going to leave that now to cook down for a little bit.

While I'm waiting, I am going to make my refried beans.

Frijoles refritos.

I've got a lot of lard melting in the pan here.

Lard is very important.

And now some onions, chopped onions, and garlic.

And now epazote. It is not to everyone's taste,

but it is like a lot of things.

I remember the first time tasting coriander actually in Mexico

and thinking, "I am not sure if I like this."

But now I can't get enough.

Now a jalapeno chilli.

I'm going to chop the whole chilli up for this

because it is nothing like as hot as a Scotch Bonnet,

and then cook all that down.

Just going to leave that to sweat away for about five minutes.

And now for the black beans.

Well, I have already cooked the black beans,

boiled them in water with a bit of salt.

I like the deep blackness of these beans from Mexico,

also known as turtle beans.

There is probably a Mexican device for bean mashing.

I am using a potato masher, so they are sort of

getting through the holes in the masher.

But it is doing a good job.

Personally, because I like a bit of texture,

I don't mind if they are not totally smooth,

if you see the odd whole bean or half bean

in the general puree of beans,

that is fine by me.

So now I am just going to season that with salt.

Actually, quite a lot of salt

because I do think frijoles should be quite salty.

Now the sardines.

Can you think of another fish

that has so benefited mankind since the year dot?

Well, maybe herrings.

I sort of miss those sardine keys.

You remember you just turn the top of the lid off like that,

but that's progress.

Now you have got a little lift and pull thing.

Look at those lovely fat sardines.

There is a lot of pickiness, and, dare I say, snobbery

about the best tinned sardines,

where they come from and when they were packed.

It is, I think, getting a bit like wine

and good vintages and all that stuff.

So, to make up my pan de cazon, except it is pan de sardinas,

it is a fried tortilla, then refried beans,

followed by my lovely tomatoey, sardiney sauce and repeat.

In the Yucatan, it's one of those dishes eaten all along the coast,

not with sardines, though, but with cazon, dogfish.

One of the first things you see here is at the heart of any town or city,

the life, the drive, the spirit, is found in the main public square.

Sometimes known as the zocalo,

and when the sun starts to lose its heat,

it's time to dance.

This is such fun, I think the same thing happens in zocalos

all over Mexico on Sunday afternoons.

I saw the same thing in Oaxaca.

I don't think it's actually put on for the tourists,

because here in Merida, most of the audience are Mexican.

I sort of think maybe we could have a bit more Morris dancing at home,

but maybe not, because we don't have this wonderful sun

and all the colourful buildings

and the natural exuberance of the Mexicans.

I'm told this dance was created when cattle were first introduced here.

It's called the Jarana,

and the dancers are known as vaqueras, and vaqueros,

basically, cowgirls and cowboys.

I think it's utterly brilliant to see this

in the middle of the town, for free.

Apparently, when all the cattle were rounded up and branded,

then it was time to dance,

and dance they did until it was the last vaquera

and vaquero standing.

One thing I'm really beginning to realise about Mexico

and certainly here in the zocalo in Merida,

is that Mexicans love music and they love loud music and sometimes,

there's so much loud music going on,

you don't know whether you're coming or going.

I love corn on the cob with loads of butter and black pepper,

but here, this is corn-on-the-cob heaven.

First of all, they smother it with cream into every crevice.

Now cheese.

It looks dry, a bit like Parmesan, but it sticks to the cream.

And then, oh, yes, well, it's Mexico, chilli sauce.

I'm told once you taste this,

you'll never go back to just butter and pepper.

We'll just have to see!

Well...

You can imagine corn-on-the-cob corn in Mexico's

is going to be as good as it gets,

but with a bit of cream and some cheese and chilli...

..very, very lovely fast food.

This is as-good-as-it-gets corn on the cob.

Next morning, and about 20 minutes' drive from Merida,

I met up with a fellow chef.

That's quite a long drop for a couple of old geezers!

Thanks. I'm not overwhelmed normally

when I meet up with celebrity chefs.

However, there are celebrity chefs,

but above that, is a category of super celebrity chefs

and Jeremiah Tower is very much part of that bracket.

He used to be the young Turk of new American cooking.

I've followed his career for nearly 40 years.

From Chez Panisse in the very beginning,

to Stars Restaurant.

Gastronomically, he had America at his feet,

but he's given up the restaurant business now

and found a new life here.

It's funny talking to a chef of my age

and the food we cooked when we first started out.

It had to be all French.

Otherwise, in the mid-70s, nobody would take you seriously.

It used to be everybody wanted to be like a posh French, didn't they?

Yes.

Because I can remember even when I started writing my menus in French

to start with, you know?

-Yeah, yeah.

-Why?

-Right. Right.

-But I did.

-So did I.

-Did you?

-Yeah.

-In California?

Well, in the beginning, because everyone assumed...

It's so obvious now.

-Yeah.

-That as you were talking, I'd say, for instance,

there were no fresh herbs. There was no olive oil.

Nothing like that. People just look at you as if you've lost your mind.

But Chez Panisse in the beginning...

..was a little French bistro.

So of course, then I went through a...

To fill the restaurant up and make it famous,

and therefore fill it, I decided we'd do regions of France,

so I did all the regions, ran out of them and the next thing,

the last one was Corsica.

Well, I'd never been to Corsica.

I didn't know anything about Corsica.

Or its food. And so I cooked a dish which was the only one I think that

was an absolute disaster.

It was kind of stock fish, bacalao, but I hadn't soaked it long enough.

It was disgusting.

So I thought, "OK."

That was an awakening and I thought, "Wait a minute.

"We have Petrale sole.

"We have lobsters out there.

"We have these beautiful big, fresh prawns in Monterey Bay,"

so within two hours' drive

of San Francisco was all these products, ingredients

that we were apologising for and I said, "No."

No.

And there was a moment then in 1976, in June, 1976,

I read the California Regional Dinner.

It was all in English.

We used only local wines.

Local meaning Napa Singer, which is not exactly a hardship.

But, I think the dinner was...

..18?

For six courses!

THEY LAUGH God!

And that changed it.

Then the Gourmet Magazine and the Wine Spectator picked up on that,

and that's when everything became what would be now viral.

Well done!

It's a grouper. Oh, it took the whole fish.

Give me my sardine back.

Fresh sardines. How come I never see those in the market?

-Well, this is fun.

-Absolutely.

I suppose one of the reasons I'm not always happy to go fishing

is when we're filming,

we never seem to catch any fish and it's a bit like,

and I'm sure Jeremiah would agree with me,

it's a bit like being in an empty restaurant,

having to cook or not cook, standing in a kitchen,

waiting for customers. Probably.

Oh, my God! I don't have restaurant nightmares any more, but if I did,

that would be the empty restaurant.

You mean, there is a time when you stop having restaurant nightmares?

I thought there was.

No, no, every once in a while, I still think,

"I'm in my restaurant and nobody's shown up."

My restaurant nightmare is everybody shows up, but for some reason,

I can't cook.

Just to cap that, I have actually caught a fish at long last.

It's quite a good-sized one, by the feel of it.

-There we go.

-You see!

Look at that. It's a beauty.

We caught that ceviche.

I know. Isn't that wonderful?

Three or four different fish.

It doesn't cut all the way through.

He leaves that bit connected to the tail.

So you can just slip it.

-Look at that.

-So he can do it in one go.

Look, he doesn't have to hold on to the end of the fillets.

These fish fillets are perfect for ceviche,

Mexico's famous dish of raw fish,

cooked, or rather, cured in lime juice.

It's got a bite and a sweetness when the fish is as fresh as this,

contrasted with the salt.

Some fresh tomatoes, onions,

and then coriander or cilantro, as they call it.

It's all a lovely fragrant sourness.

And that's it.

-Don Ricardo. Esto es ceviche.

-Gracias, Abraham.

-Perfect.

Obviously, this is a bit much for just me and Jeremiah.

Actually, it's for the whole crew.

Abraham's kindly made it all.

I was just thinking we should try it, don't you?

I think so. I can't wait.

No, same here.

That is really good. What I want to ask you, is that,

that's cooked enough in the lime juice, isn't it?

Is that how they would have it?

That's how they would have it, yes.

It just needs a little bit of chilli.

OK. I can do without that.

I'll just have one more.

We'll have some chilli. You can have yours before they put the chilli in!

THEY LAUGH

It's really lovely.

Sometimes when you get ceviche,

I find it's a bit too cooked and it's gone really dry,

but this is really, really juicy.

And I love that lemon in it.

Now the crew can have it!

-Shall we take it?

-Take it to the house.

-OK.

-A la casa.

-Yo me voy a la casa con Usted.

At Abraham's house, his wife Ruby prepares pibil, in this case,

it's a grouper split down the middle,

and then she puts in cooked garlic,

salt and pepper and that's all crushed up.

Next, very sour orange -

they say everyone here has a tree in their garden.

Back home, we'd use Seville orange.

Now achiote paste.

That's made with the seeds from a local tree.

It's slightly sweet and earthy.

That goes over the fish.

A little drizzle of corn oil.

And now Ruby tops this with onions, tomatoes, and fresh chilli.

Finally, a green bell pepper.

I found this a little surprising,

because she then covers the fish with mayonnaise.

I didn't see that coming at all.

She covers all that with banana leaves

so it doesn't burn,

and then it's buried in the sand for about an hour.

The tinfoil, incidentally, helps keep the sand out.

That's quite important because every time I've tried this sort of dish

in Cornwall, I'm sure I can hear my guests' teeth crunch.

Maybe I'm just imagining it!

-Look at that.

-Listo.

-Listo.

Wow, look at that.

-Gosh.

-There's something magic about it.

-Yeah, there is.

-Gentle cooking, yeah.

-You know that.

-Yeah.

It's not rushed. It's much juicier.

-Salud.

-Salud.

Abraham, Ruby.

Well, it's been in... How long was it in there?

-About an hour?

-An hour.

Which I would have thought was too long, but...

Oh, lovely.

It is. Moist, very moist.

Lovely fish, grouper.

Really, really good flavour.

I think what's been really important about this

is that all the veg have cooked together very nicely

and baked together.

-Absolutely.

-So it is.

That's one of the problems with baking fish,

the veg don't cook enough.

You've almost got to overcook the fish a little bit

to get that everything cooked together.

I'm nearing the end of my trip now, not far to go.

Just a couple of days, and I'm heading to the town of Valladolid.

It's a very soothing place, with a great sense of local pride.

They say you're welcomed into a city

that breathes peace and tranquillity,

courtesy of the hospitality of its inhabitants.

Well, that was probably written by the local council!

But I have a sense it's bathed in truth.

Inside the town hall is a mural

showing how the Spanish won the day over the Mayans,

nearly 500 years ago.

I was taken by the priest, stopping,

I presume, a Mayan priest taking a life for sacrifice.

And I'm thinking, "Who is right here?"

Discuss.

Valladolid is very close to what I think is a wonderful natural marvel,

the cenotes.

It might be something to do with my age,

but I get really annoyed at certain phrases,

for instance, bucket list.

It must be American.

It means all the things you must do before you die.

Whoops, nearly slipped!

Well, I've always wanted to swim in the cenote,

but I don't want it on my bucket list,

thank you very much!

This is a very deep natural swimming hole,

and it's made because the limestone surface of the land,

the crust, if you like, collapsed.

There are over 6,000 of these sweet water pools here in the Yucatan.

I have to say, they're quite magical.

That was very nice.

I've always wanted to swim in a cenote, and now I have.

The first question I was asking myself is, would it be cold?

And I'd describe it as refreshingly cool.

Also, the water's very, very pure,

simply because it filters down over

years and years through limestone.

It tastes really sweet.

Of course, this is a sacred place,

it was a sacred place for the Mayans.

Still is. Because

they regarded it, A, as the entrance to the underworld,

all these cenotes, and, B, as the source of life,

because it's all limestone here.

There's virtually no rivers in Yucatan

because of the porousness of the limestone,

so they relied on these cenotes for their water.

Now breakfast at Valladolid's most popular haunt, Meson Marques.

I've got a few quotes this morning.

Somerset Maugham said, to eat well in England,

you should have breakfast three times a day.

I'm pleased to say it's not like that any more

but it certainly was in the '40s and '50s, I'm sure,

and I remember the first time I came to Mexico

was in 1968, and the thing above all I remember were the breakfasts.

I mean, they are enormous.

And here, I've chosen what I think is just a typical Mexican breakfast

called huevos motulenos.

I suppose it's the closest thing to bacon and eggs they do -

but some bacon and eggs!

And this, at the Hosteria del Marques,

is how they do it!

This is huevos motulenos.

First of all, make the sauce.

The chef is simmering celery, garlic, tomatoes, onions,

red pepper and coriander, loads of coriander,

for that unique fragrance.

Simmer, simmer away then Passata.

Looks like half a litre.

Next, whiz in the blender.

Having the sauce cooked freshly like this does make a difference.

So that's the base for the huevos motulenos.

Pour back in the pan and add more Passata,

for that extra kick of tomato.

Now this is a bit chefy and comes as a bit of a surprise.

Chicken stock powder and salt.

Don't ask me why, but it tastes good.

The Chinese use it all the time.

To assemble, some refried beans on the base of a tortilla, like so,

and a couple of fried eggs.

Huevos sounds so romantic to me.

I think it's why huevos rancheros,

basically just a simplified version of this dish,

is such a breakfast favourite of mine.

Here, some fried plantains,

beautifully grilled sweet, crispy bacon...

..and now that sauce.

A few peas with chopped ham, and then cheese.

Do you think that would be a welcome change

to baked beans and hash browns?

Definitely, I would say!

I'm coming to the end of my journey now,

and this is the Caribbean Sea at Tulum.

I'm told this used to be a colony for hippies,

as well as the odd draft dodger

escaping from the Vietnam War.

Now it's the hang-out of Hollywood A-listers

and it's all been gentrified.

A cabin on the beach here could cost you 300 a day.

Yoga and aromatherapy are extras.

But if you love seafood,

there's one man here who does a pretty good job, and that's Eric.

Eric Werner was fast becoming a top chef in New York,

and came here on his hols,

loved it so much, decided to stay.

Same old, same old story.

-Beautiful.

-It's a nice pargo.

I've never seen them as big as that in the Mediterranean.

Here we've got a liseta.

Liseta. I mean, it looks like our grey mullet,

very similar shape and everything.

Yeah. And the females carry eggs and we dry out the egg sacs

and, you know, kind of use it in a similar way, like a bottarga.

-Yeah.

-We tend to shave it on top of ceviche,

add a little bit more kind of a sea taste and a little bit more salt.

Great idea.

-Yeah.

-The Italians put it in pasta but you put it on ceviche.

-Right.

-Of course. Yeah, yeah.

OK, let's go.

Gracias!

There's nothing here but sand, sea and jungle.

No mains electricity,

but Eric and his wife cleared the land

and built their own dream restaurant.

What Eric does here couldn't be simpler.

He's grilling a grey mullet

using a fair amount of oil to stop it sticking to the bars

and he serves it up with a giant grilled radish.

Why on earth, I mean, this restaurant,

-when you got here, was just jungle?

-Uh-huh.

It's quite, for a young chef, it's quite a sort of, you know,

you've been working in good restaurants in New York.

It's quite a serious change of career, almost.

Yeah. It was. It was serious, it was exciting, it was an adventure.

It was what you're looking for when, you know,

you're kind of wanting to do something on your own

and you want to make that move and to...you know.

It was... My wife and I had the idea

that we were going to come down, and, you know,

have a family on the beach and be able to go out, you know,

walks in the sand every day, all those kind of things and really,

I have not stopped working since the moment I got here.

Which is a beautiful thing. Which is great, you know.

Well, I mean, I think, you know, knowing chefs the way I do,

I think a number of people I can think of

would give their back teeth to come and work somewhere like this.

-Yeah.

-Because, I mean, it's open

and also it's such fun with these wood fires

and you know everything about cooking with wood, don't you?

Yeah. A long time.

Well, it's nearly time to go home.

I'll say it's a bit of a wrench,

because just taking a look around me,

I'd love to stay a few more days.

But it's been a long journey.

It's been wonderful.

When I set out from California, from San Francisco so long ago,

I sort of thought it was going to be a journey of rediscovery,

because I first went to California and Mexico in the 1960s.

I've just realised how important California has been to me

and my generation of chefs.

Because I think that was where the whole movement of buying locally

and changing the menu on a daily basis

and just putting on that menu whatever was good and fresh

in the markets, that's where it came from.

That's where that whole sort of anti-French,

anti-classic menu came from.

And I had a great deal of debt to California

and so it proved to be still much the same as it ever was.

And then Mexico.

My memories of Mexico and what I wanted to feel,

the first time I went there, the first day,

was the smell of a tortilla,

of a corn tortilla, because I just remember, when I first went there,

it was that smell that is so indefinable,

but so essentially part of Mexican cuisine.

The food is so utterly wonderful,

from the north of Mexico down to here in Yucatan,

there are so many different types of cooking,

from moles to pozoles,

to ceviches, wonderfully grilled fish, to fantastic tacos.

But finally, to sum up,

I've been here for weeks and I still can't put my finger

on why I love Mexico so much.

Is it the food, the wonderful food?

Is it the lovely people?

Is it the really varied countryside?

Is it the colours in the market?

Is it the weather, the lovely warm weather?

Do you know, I think it's a sum of all those parts,

and a little bit of chaos dropped in for good measure.

I will be back over and over again.