Menudo, Tongue Gorditas, & Other Tasty Snacks in Mexico
Exploring fear by trying different foods in Zacatecas, Mexico.
I’ve been thinking about fear as resistance: Resistance to what is unknown, difficult, or potentially dangerous. Resistance to change. And I think we often react to fear by saying “I don’t like it” or “I’m not good at.”
Here’s an example in my own life. I’ve been in Mexico for Mexico 7 years, and I’ve never tried tripe, cow brains, tongue, menudo (cow stomach soup), and all sorts of stuff that’s popular here because “I don’t like it.”
But the truth is, I don’t know it. Where I grew up, we didn’t eat it. And maybe that makes me a little bit afraid of it. It certainly causes me to resist it, although not in any over-the-top way — I’m not dodging cow brains while I’m walking the block. I just don’t order it when it’s on the menu.
But since Fear Year is about embracing resistance, I started off the first Saturday of 2023 with a small bowl of Doña G’s menudo. People come from all over Zacatecas to Tres Cruces on the weekend to get a taste of Doña G’s menudo. Many bring their own pots and Tupper wear and carry home hefty portions.
For me, the soup wasn’t easy to eat. Menudo smells like wet socks and the meat is fatty and chewy. But I hit it with some fresh limes, rolled the stomach liner meat up in a tortilla and worked my way through it. With the help of my wife, we finished off the bowl.
Next, I ordered a cow tongue gordita from Doña Chayo. I liked this a little more. The tongue is diced and served in beans with onion, cilantro, a guajillo chile sauce, and inside a corn-pocket tortilla.
I ate a little less than half, then went back to my classic banger gorditas: rajas con queos (green peppers and cheese) y carne desebrado (shredded meat). The corn tortilla little pouches are fire, and there’s no way the maiz is genetically engineered at this joint.
I read an article in the Mexico News Daily that discussed that the food “gordita” — which translates to little fatty, was getting some pushback from people because it can be offensive. Somehow “gordita” has made its way into the culture wars.
I haven’t met anyone in Zacatecas that seems to give a shit about this non-issue as they’re scarfing down one of the best snacks known to man. And Doña Chayo, who runs a team of family and friends in a restaurant that’s always packed, who makes the best “little fatties” in Z-town and maybe all of Mexico, doesn’t seem to be thinking much about it.
I only mess with Doña G’s tamales & Doña Chayos gorditas when I’m in Zacataces, and Z-town has the best tamales in Mexico — I put my word on it.
Corn husks light on maza — not like the big Oaxaca-style tamales they sell in Mexico City on the street carts that pass in the night with their recording on repeat; tamales oaxaquenos, tamales calientitos, tamales — Nah, Dona G’s tamales are thin but with a healthy amount of pork or chicken mixed in green tomatillo or red guajillo sauce —
So, what did I learn from my stomach lining soup and cow tongue gordita?
Well, I don’t really mess with menudo. I don’t enjoy the consistency or the smell of it. But the tongue gorditas are pretty good. And neither food hurt me or did anything that would warrant fear or resistance. In fact, they’re both healthy and packed with nutrients.
My next move is to El San Juan Market in El Centro for some insects and bugs, and maybe a chocolate scorpion. We’ll see how that goes.
