Harvesting Tequila, Surfing Secret Coves & Tasting Legendary Mexican Flavors ｜ DIRT Guadalajara

Two. Teaspoon. Yes? This one. Ah, two. Yes. Sugar. Yes. Sugar. Two for you, brother. Two, man. Yes? Two. How much? A little. A little? Yes. And a little more for me. Let's start the day. Here I am as a kid. Now I'm a washed up pro snowboarder. Dad. And curious food nerd. Hell-bent on new adventures. I'm Josh Rosen. Food and adventure have led me to some of the most interesting places. So Huckberry is sending us off to source some of the freshest ingredients. All while taking it in through the lens of the locals. And each adventure ends with a feast. This is Dirt. Dirt's gone south. To a country with one of the richest food cultures on Earth. Red soil. Black soil. Salt for days. Here, tradition isn't just remembered. It's alive. We're in a region of Mexico that's hailed as the birthplace of mariachi. The original cowboy. And a spirit that needs no introduction. Here, life is one big celebration. Bienvenidos a Guadalajara. For our first trip to Mexico, we've landed in Guadalajara. This city is buzzing. It's about 100 degrees out, and no one seems to be bothered. Sun-faded facades and centuries-old cathedrals. The Spanish colonial era left its fingerprints all over this place. Today, Guadalajara has found its rhythm. Through art, community, and is even known as the Silicon Valley of Mexico. And the food? That's a whole story on its own. This morning, we're in the working-class neighborhood of Santa Teresita. Known for its homeware shops and a rising food scene. Please meet our chefs for the episode, Cricia Ruelas and Oscar Segundo. Behind this blue metal door is their restaurant, Chocol. An old mechanic shop converted into one of Guadalajara's most sought-after dinner reservations. Where they throw a refreshing light onto native Mexican recipes. While they are busy prepping, we'll head over to their other neighborhood spot just down the block. It's time for some breakfast. We're in Nejayote. Nejayote is Chocol's little brother. This is the mill. This is where all the dough is made. And breakfast. So, breakfast in the front. A giant lava stone mill in the back. And in the center of everything, bags and bags of corn. This is the corn mill. All the corn is from the family. Oscar was raised in the indigenous Mazawa community. Where heirloom corn shapes both life and tradition. In the fall, his family harvests their crop together, by hand. And every year, the ceremony is led by his grandmother. Her wisdom, rituals, stories and recipes will then be passed down from generation to generation. Their harvest of Oscar's ancestral corn is then used for the rest of the year in both of their restaurants. Prepared in the same way their ancestors would have done it. A process that hasn't changed for hundreds of years. Fresh corn tortillas, corn pancakes, even corn horchata. Corn is a living, breathing metaphor for the mission behind their cooking. For us, it's very important to continue promoting this. Because when they say that we are men and women of corn, well, yes, the truth is that in Mexico, I think many centuries will pass and we will continue to be very connected with this issue, with the issue of corn. Our first ingredient, fresh masa for the final feast. When Oscar was growing up, ancestral knowledge of local ingredients shaped the food he ate. But after moving to Guadalajara, he realized those childhood dishes were largely absent from most restaurant menus. Now, at Xocol, Cricia and Oscar are changing that. So he comes from a place where he's growing corn and growing the greens, and you come from Guadalajara. Can you tell me about the combination of both of your energies to create this? Well, for me, it was like looking for my identity, because I didn't grow up in a traditional home like him. And when I met his mother, it was very special for me. The ceremonial Mazawa taco. Freshly milled corn is pressed into tortillas. Then the image of the Virgin Guadalupe is stamped using a natural dye, made from cochinilla, an insect that lives on cacti. Prepared during the harvest festival, these tacos honor the Mazawa's culture and ancestors. Stuffed zucchini flowers, beef tongue with walnut mole. Here, wild and seasonal ingredients shine. It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood. Now, off to discover the ingredients, people and traditions that make this region so unique. This morning, we're in Colonia Moderna, a neighborhood known for its crumbling, yet still elegant, Perfyrian-era mansions. Where some see decay, others see beauty. It's important to have a good attitude, regardless of the difficulties or the world we live in. I've always been taught to be happy, to be in search of happiness. An important part for us, as Mexicans, is to transmit this happiness through color. When I lived in my town, we'd go to my grandfather's ranch on the weekends. All the flowers, the variety of trees, the sky is super blue, and the earth in my town is super red. So you can see it a lot in people's clothing, in how they paint their houses, in all these colorful towns. And I think color helps us to always have that good energy. Incredible. The ability to extract just enough and leave just enough. But then you've added all of the… No. This is original. No. Yes. Claudio describes his work as pop Mexican. His current inspiration? Flowers. Coming to Guadalajara and being an artist is a great moment. And I think much better things are coming. I think it's enough. Only bright colors and positive energy as we move on to our next stop. It's bloody hot out, which means it's time for a Western Mexico favorite, an ice cold Tejuino. A fermented drink made from fresh corn flour, water, sugar, and salt served over shaved ice with a dash of lime and chamoy. Yep, yep, that's the ticket. On the other side of town, preservation of one of Mexico's oldest traditions is standing its ground. Nestled amongst the outer edges of Guadalajara's urban sprawl is this beautiful oasis of a riding stable. So right now we are in our home, and your home too. We are in Zapopan, Jalisco. My brother, my father, and I, we are a charro. Family charro. Part showman, all pageantry. Carrying centuries of skill into the arena. This is the main sport of Mexico. It's the only sport of Mexico, charrería. And we are so proud of it. Born on the ranches of old Mexico, charrería is a sport of horsemanship, pride, and tradition. When you see a charro in every part of the world, you actually know he's from Mexico. Alright, obviously, gotta give this a try. You look like you know how to do it. A couple times. Keep the pressure. Go, go, go. There you go. Get it, get it. Your leg. He's a stallion. I mean, he's a very good horse. One thing is for certain. The charros have style. Fine embroidery, silver and gold accents, a tight-fitting suit, and that iconic sombrero. I mean, the Mexican heritage is like three pillars. Mariachi, charrería, and tequila. Cheers. We're missing only one pillar. Cue the mariachi. Salud. Good pillars. Time to ride off into the sunset and get some rest. Got a big day tomorrow. Outside of Guadalajara to the east, small working farm towns dot the horizon, with rolling red hills as far as the eye can see. This is Los Altos de Jalisco, the highlands. Also known as tequila country. And breakfast is served. With us today is Eduardo Lalo Gonzalez, co-founder of Lalo Tequila. Coming from a long line of tequila makers, his mission is to honor them through the purest expression of tequila that he can. The process starts in the fields, with these spiny frosted turquoise plants growing everywhere you look. These are seven-year-old blue agave, the heart of Lalo Tequila. This is why it's so special, because this soil is very rich in iron. It's something that is super particular from this region. It gives the agave these nutrients that the agave needs to grow the way it grows here. High elevation mixed with the iron-rich soil means high sugar content agave plants, prized amongst distillers like Lalo. That means labor-intensive work. Every single agave is harvested by hand. Every single one. And these denim-clad agave harvesters are known as jimadores. Hot, hard days, but this craft is respected and essential, and has become a tradition often carried on from generation to generation. And the cutting process we are seeing here is called jima, hence the name jimador. But first, the jimador sharpens his large blade, known as a coa. Then the leaves, or pencas, are removed. Two and a half centimeters of the pencas left is the sweet spot for Lalo's clean, earthy notes. All right, let me at it. And now what's left is the heart of the agave, known as the piña, ready for the distillery. Usually, like a single jimador in one shift can harvest up to 150 and 200 plants. So, I mean, it's a lot. Oh, and we'll grab some pencas while we're out here in the fields. Next, we'll head down the road with the freshly harvested piñas to Lalo's brand-spanking-new Blanco Tequila Distillery. Quartered, the piñas go straight into this massive brick oven. Then the transformation begins. Cooked in steaming hot mineral water this is where the starches in the agave get broken down into sugars. 28 hours later, and it's become as dark as molasses and as sweet as baked apples. Suck it. Don't chew it, just suck it. It's beautiful. I mean, love this. I'm surprised this is not juiced and available. Well, it's available in the form of tequila. It is juiced and available, right? All right, let's see. Now the cooked agave is brought to the crusher where it is juiced, and then rinsed with mineral-rich Highland well water. Fermentation is where the magic happens. I guess the most important step in tequila production. So here we have the sweet agave juice mixed with the fresh water, and then the final ingredient, champagne yeast. After this sugary juice has fermented into alcohol, it is distilled in these beautiful copper stills, not once, but twice. And voila, crafted by hardworking hands carrying on generations of tradition with pride and care. It means a lot. Cheers. It tastes different now that I know all the steps. It's beautiful. It's so much better. It does, actually. It's really good. And now, back to the city. We're in Guadalajara's Colonia Americana neighborhood. Progressive and vibrant. Art galleries, cafes, and one of Lalo's favorite bars. Welcome to Farmacia Rita Perez. Let's have some tequila. Historically, the most common tequila cocktail in Mexico is not the margarita. It's the Paloma. The Paloma, tequila, grapefruit soda, and lime. Guadalajara being the capital city is like the melting pot of everything. There's great food. There's great fashion. There's great art. Not only what people see is on the news. Okay, Paloma's for the whole crew. Nightlife in Guadalajara, it's a thing. Food, drink, and culture, it all feeds off of each other here in Guadalajara. Specialty cocktail bars, rooftops, and street food. You know how it is. One thing leads to another, and before you know it, you find yourself at the Coliseum. So grab your snacks, don your masks, and like the great-grandson of champions, this sport runs through this man's veins. Big Star Westerns. It's my dream now. The big dog is back. This is Lucha Libre. In the ring, there are two types of luchadores. Rudos are the bad guys, and the tecticos, the good guys. And then there are the fans. Here, the mask is sacred. It's the luchador's identity, mythology, and soul. And they're never seen in public without their masks on. Hey, same with the Dirt Crew. Lucha Libre is a distant cousin of US Pro Wrestling. And I'm just gonna say it, it's better. If you judge great nightlife in a city by how festive they get on a Tuesday, I'd say this city is highly ranked. Our quick take on Guadalajara, it's a celebration of tradition. There's a passion and a grit to this city. And one thing's for certain, where there's people, there's always really good food. It's time for a road trip. Through the moonscape of what was once Lake Chapa, we might be transporting to another dimension. A quick roadside ingredient, nopales, young, edible cactus leaves. Uh, post-spine removal. Not a great harvest, but just our luck, there is a much juicier and plump cactus fruit growing all over the place just up the road. These are pitayas. And this is a roadside festival of just about everything in Mexico. So this fruit, with a three-week harvest window and a spiny exterior, gets a celebration too. Moving onward, leaving the state of Jalisco and into the state of Colima to a town sitting at the base of Mexico's most active volcano. Tell me I shouldn't be worried. Welcome to Kamala. In Mexico, most small towns are built around the church and that's where we're meeting our local guide, Fernando. His restaurant, La Brecha, is known as a cantina, or botanero. Food to be enjoyed while drinking, the best kind. Now for a tour of Fernando's town to show us what it's famous for. Fernando's friend has been making cheeses in her small kitchen by hand for 40 years. Made from fresh milk from her husband's cows and local Colima salt. Time for a taste. Gracias. Oh, wow. Gracias. Más gracias. Oh, I love it. This is a cheese party that just won't stop. I'm in. Vinegar for me is the best dish for my childhood. Okay. Stumbling out of the cheese cave of my dreams to the next stop. This shop makes a drink that actually originated in India, brought over by the conquistadors and made even better ponche or punch liquor in every flavor you can imagine. Blueberry, chocolate, coconut and banana cream. Oh, my. And finally, what this town is known for. This bakery has been operating for 70 years, famous for this Mexican favorite. What do we got? What are we having? Pan dulce. Banana is like the saint of bread. It's the saint of bread? No, I'm just making things up. First came the bread. Now, off to find the coffee. Fernando is taking us up the hill to meet with his friend who is pioneering specialty coffee in the state of Colima. Here, the forests keep the mineral-rich hillside shady and cool. And that's exactly what Hugo needs to grow his coffee plants. Here, the coffee grows under the shade of the trees in the forest. This is the way we grow in Mexico. Most of the coffee plantations in Mexico are wild. It's not like a farm plantation where the organic soil is full of potassium and phosphorus, producing coffee with bright acidity and complex flavors. And the porous lava rocks absorb and control water acting as a micro-irrigation system for the wild-grown plants. These giant fruit trees all around us were planted as snacks for coffee harvesters. If you plant peaches, it doesn't mean that the coffee will taste like peaches. It's the last coffee cherries harvested and a whole lot of fruit to take back to our chefs. Oh, ----. That is wild how good that is. Well, this is our coffee nursery. And this is where we... This is local Arabica coffee. To ensure the best product is on the market, Hugo controls the entire process from growing to harvest to the final roast. Well, it's important for us to make specialty coffee and we have to do it the best way possible. Like white chocolate. I don't consider a coffee nerd, but I like very much coffee. And I drink, dream all day. I'm thinking about coffee, so maybe I am, but I don't know. The process here starts with drying the coffee cherries in the sun. After they are dried, the hole is removed and the beans are sorted and it's medium roast. Perfect. And today, we're taking three types of coffee along with a bag of the leftover husks. From the volcano to the vibrant town square, Kamala, you've been good to us. We'll follow the rivers to the sea for even more ingredients. We've made it to the coast of Colima. Unlike the American tourist-heavy beaches of Puerto Vallarta to the north, it's different here. The locals soak up the sun and enjoy the beach at their own pace. With a rugged coast, mineral-rich soil, and friendly locals. Alright, we're ready to get pitted. I'm good now. Got my boogie fix in. Our first stop is Manzanillo. Don't let Mexico's largest shipping port scare you. There's a beautiful bay, great fishing, and this local, with lots and a snack. Nico's an award-winning chef and author, turned Mexican travel show host. Holy ----. After 20 years of working as a chef abroad, he decided to come back to his hometown and open his restaurant, Lasal, in the house he grew up in. This is Camaron from the lagoon? Yes. Only 100% local. This is what we do. Nico's passion for showcasing the region's rich flavors and traditions. And a few homegrown mangoes to take back to our chefs in Guadalajara. And a few more for the van. You think we're done hanging out with Nico? We've only just begun. Now we're heading north, on board with some of Nico's buddies who know this region better than anyone. Today, they're taking us to a small but mighty is how Nico describes his tight-knit surf crew. When you have coves like this to yourself, you gotta think these guys are doing something right. And it's ceviche spots like this that continue to put Mexico at the top of my food list. This is the best salsa in Manzanillo, in Colima. This one right here. The habanero is... You have to mix it around? The volcanic ash and eroded lava rock carried down through local rivers have made this land especially fertile. Combined with the humidity and breeze from the ocean, we've got ideal farming conditions. The roadsides are lined with fruit orchards and colorful fruit stands like these. And we're obviously going to pick up a bag of juicy limes from this guy. Mucho gusto. Meet Mauricio, the king of the palms. So, what are you looking for? Okay, weight. And you can hear it. What is a machete? Oh my God, that's good. Why is it better than any other coconut I've ever had? Mineral. So the terroir comes from the volcano. Farming isn't just harvesting a crop, it's growing the plant. Here they grow the coconuts for transplanting later and also sell to other coconut farmers throughout the region. Long ago, Spanish trade ships also came on the ships and with them, mangoes, bananas, rice, and coconuts. What we have to do is clean the palm first. Clean it because there's scorpions in it. Right, scorpions. I like it. Oh, you got it. You're up in that thing, huh? We got ingredients. I don't think I have the coconut feet, so I'm just going to go shoes. You want to open up there? Yeah. I need a drink of water. That was fun. Well, we got too many to go to. I get it now. That is really special. They always point at the ocean because the ocean is bringing in the weather and so it's the first thing to get the weather, like a sunflower. Gracias. I could die happy on a pile of coconuts. Actually, nothing about this is comfortable. There we go. In the early 1900s, long before Cancun or Acapulco were on the map, there was Cuyutlán. It was considered the very first beach getaway for families from Guadalajara that had been laid back. Before beachgoers were sipping micheladas by the shore, this stretch of coast drew visitors for an entirely different reason. Just inland from where the town now stands lies a shimmering lagoon, one that attracted early Mesoamerican settlers. And they didn't come for the views or the surf, but for something far more valuable. A huge leg up in a world without refrigeration. It was also medicine, healing wounds and believed to ward off evil spirits. Today, this massive salty lagoon produces around 86 million pounds of salt per year. It's not until spring when the sun is hot and the lagoon begins to evaporate. This is when the harvest can begin. Come and look at that. The salt water is first channeled into shallow man-made pools. As the water cooks in the hot sun, salt settles to the bottom. What you have to do is keep an eye on them. They're the professionals, do the same. And the sweeping begins. There you go, you have to keep an eye on them. That was their currency. Exactly. The word salt comes from salary. Come on, really? Yeah. The word salary comes from salt. Hey people, it's salt. Tidbit. It's hard to work here, man. It's real hard. Don't tell anybody, okay? They're the best. Everything here comes straight from the land and sea. Flavors born of volcanic soil, shaped by the Pacific and carried on by generations who've lived between the two. Now get in the van. We're going to Guadalajara. It's time to feast. Okay, ready? Alright, this is what we got. In Mexico they say life isn't measured in years but in moments worth celebrating. So we're closing this one out the only way we know how, with a fiesta. In the end, every ingredient we gathered was more than just food, it was a doorway. A way into the lives of the people who welcomed us. Into traditions carried across generations and into the landscapes that shaped it all. From salt pulled from the coast to coconuts grown in volcanic soil. From the hands that harvest agave to the tequila that carries their spirit. What we gathered wasn't just ingredients, it was perspective. Food is never only about what's on the plate but about the people, the stories, and the places that we visit. Tortilla? Tortilla al salsa. No, obviously. Obviously. No, es que le hemos puesto tequila y ahorita lo pusieron mal.