Original subtitles

They say Jalisco is Mexico and Mexico is Jalisco.

So what do you think of when I say Mexico?

Mariachis?

Sombreros?

Tequila?

Every iconic image

you know about Mexico comes from this state.

But Jaliscans are not about stereotypes.

At heart, they are cosmopolitan trendsetters.

Sí.

I believe you.

I'm intrigued to see how tradition and innovation

shape their bold, mouthwatering cuisine.

There's so much happening right now.

I can't--

I'm Eva Longoria--

born and bred in Texas with Mexican-American roots,

which makes me a Texican.

I'm exploring Mexico to see how the people, their lands,

and their past have shaped a culinary tradition

as diverse as its 32 states.

That's commitment.

Jalisco has always been at the forefront

of Mexico's national culture.

The rich tapestry of civilizations

that make up Mexico

informs Jalisco's identity

and its gastronomic treasures,

going all the way back to the Aztecs...

Spiced up by invasion...

But sliced and diced

by a new generation of food pioneers.

Wow...

Whoo.

But no culinary tour is ever complete...

all: Tequila, tequila!

Without sampling the local beverage...

in moderation, of course.

Ooh, ooh!

Jalisco's capital, Guadalajara,

is Mexico's second city.

It's vibrant and exciting,

with T-shirt weather all year round.

The locals proudly call themselves tapatíos,

a nickname meaning "triple the worth."

You can see from the vibe here,

Guadalajarans are proud to be the face

of contemporary Mexico.

- Hola. - Hola. ¿Cómo estás?

Wendy Perez has been eating her way

through Guadalajara in her 25 years as a food writer.

Like, that's the best job ever.

Yeah.

Guadalajara is known as the Pearl of the West.

But there are no pearls without grit.

The first stop is an unassuming area

not far from the center-- Mexicaltzingo.

This is the city's most popular street food.

It may look like a simple sandwich,

but this drowned sub is so much more.

I've been waiting--

- Buenas tardes. - I'm so excited.

And yet it's the main protein of the region.

Delicious pork pre-cooked for hours

in bay leaves and garlic--

that's the main filling.

But what steals the show here

is a bread with an intriguing past.

The bread here is very influenced

by the French occupation when the French was here.

When the French invaded in 1864,

they tried to win over Guadalajarans

by teaching them new skills, like bread making.

The story goes that a French sergeant, Camille Pirrotte,

wanted to make French bread but didn't have any yeast.

The warm, wet climate enabled him to make sourdough,

giving rise to Jalisco's unique birote bread,

still loved today.

And here's my favorite part of the story.

Drown the torta.

The drowning?

Originally, the bread fell into this marvelous sauce

by accident,

and that's how this legendary local dish

is said to have been born.

I think I'll have mine a little less spicy

than the normal Mexican.

Gracias.

I don't know if I've ever been this excited to eat anything.

Mmm.

I mean--

Oh, my God. Mmm.

Sí.

The French brought the bread here.

You guys have improved upon their recipe.

Ha ha!

Torta ahogada is all about tradition,

but Guadalajara is also known for its innovation.

So I'm curious to see what the new kids on the block

are up to.

Santa Tere is a mecca

for local and visiting foodies.

Here, you can find Mexicans redefining

their traditional flavors on every corner.

Tucked away in a converted garage,

Xokol is run

by two award-winning internationally trained chefs.

Hola.

Husband and wife Oscar Segundo and Xrysw Ruelas

use new and ancient techniques

that bring out the best of Jaliscan flavors.

Ah, sí.

This was indigenous?

The typical way to serve chinchayote

is with cheese in a tomato and onion broth.

In this ingenious version,

it's still served with cheese and onions

but in a revolutionary new form.

The cheese is enclosed in a mashed chinchayote,

forming a globe.

So you make a ball.

It's like a Mexican dumpling.

Anything that is potato related

with cheese in the middle, like, sign me up.

To achieve the perfect crunch in frying,

Xrysw and Oscar borrow from the Japanese.

Sí.

Oh, wow.

On the crispy, golden-brown exterior,

little dots of pink corn paste

anchor wafer-thin slices of cauliflower...

This is beautiful.

Floating on a warm pureed salsa.

Wow.

Wow!

It's, like, super crunchy on the outside.

That cheese just, like...

melts in your mouth.

Oh, my gosh.

It's a triumph of textures and delicate flavors.

Pearls come in all shapes and sizes,

even ones like these, filled with cheese.

Congrats. both: Salud.

- Felicidades. - Salud.

Gracias.

Wow. Oh, my God.

I could eat five of those. Ah, sí.

I'm like...

- Hola. - Hola, Eva.

Welcome to Lienzo Charros de Jalisco.

If Jalisco is Mexico, nowhere is this more evident

than at Guadalajara's Lienzo Charro,

the cathedral of charrería-- Mexico's national sport.

Jesús Mora is the head honcho here.

You look so handsome.

- Ay, ay, ay. - Look at this!

Wow!

- Yes. - ¿Traje de charro?

- Yes. - Okay.

But being tapatíos,

these guys don't see themselves

as ordinary cowboys.

In Mexico, we have vaqueros.

Vaquerosis the same as cowboys.

Charrois, for me, a little bigger,

a little higher-- An art form.

Yes.

On Sundays, 400 tough guys and gals come here

to compete, drink, and eat.

But the charros' role as emblems of Mexican culture

didn't happen by accident.

Oh.

This is a good place to see all the charrería.

- Oh, my God! - Eso!

The story of Jalisco's iconiccharros

has a unique place in Mexican history.

During the Spanish conquest,

the only Mexicans permitted to own horses

were the ranch workers who managed the cattle.

Through their expertise,

these cattle wranglers began to earn their own status.

Then as rural communities

started to feel disenfranchised,

the charros used this status to fight for their rights.

It was the charros who helped establish Mexico

as a constitutional republic.

In 1910, during the bloody civil war,

two charros, Emiliano Zapata and Pancho Villa,

led rural uprisings that helped depose Porfirio Diaz,

Mexico's longest-standing dictator.

They say that armies march on their stomachs,

and the food of these revolutionaries

has also become the stuff of Mexican folklore.

After the charrería,

everyone comes together to eat birria--

Jalisco's famous stew.

Hola. Soy Eva.

- ¿Qué tal? Enrique. - Enrique!

Sí.

Enrique's family has been cooking this recipe

for four generations,

and now he's head chef in the Lienzo clubhouse.

The Spanish brought the goats for milk,

but goats took over and ate all the crops

of the Indigenous people.

So, even though eating goats started as damage control,

the end result was a culinary triumph.

They brought everything over, but you made it better.

Exacto.You got it.

There are two elements to birria--

the meat and the sauce.

Mm-hmm.

Mmm.

Enrique grinds garlic, bay leaves,

and cloves with vinegar--

the magic aromatics that give birria its unique taste.

And that's just tomatoes?

- Sí. - Okay.

The tomatoes and ground spices

are combined with the juices from the meat.

Oh, wow.

Like, what makes it special?

The person making it?

Wow.

Yeah, life is good with birria.

Wow, look at that.

Sí.

Oh, wow. You can smell the cloves.

Birria, in Spanish, means "of little value,"

a poor man's food.

Así es.

But, ironically, today it's food fit

for a hero's banquet.

There must be so many memories.

Ah, this reminds me of this. This reminds me of that.

Mm.

- Mm-hmm. Aw. - Sí, sí.

Wow. This smells so good.

Sí, no?

Sí, no, no.

Mmm.

Whoa.

Wow.

It's so soft.

Sí, sí, sí, sí, sí.

Oh, my gosh, this broth is amazing.

I can see why this Jaliscan stew

has become as legendary as the charros who eat it.

They have skillfully transformed goat meat

into a pillar of Mexican gastronomy.

This is really amazing.

These crafty charros have one more trick up their sleeve.

No, gracias.

Like this.

Oh, my God, that's so big!

Trying to kill me.

It's my first day, and they're trying to kill me.

Salud!

Que viva México!

Salud!

Wherever you go in Guadalajara,

you see Mexican culture celebrated with style.

We are in, like, the trendy spot in Guadalajara.

I already feel cooler walking on these streets.

Colonia Americana--

this is, like, where all the people of Guadalajara come

and they hang out.

There's a kitchen here

where you can taste all the distinctive influences

that make Mexico unique in just one dish.

So here we are.

Oh, my God, I love it already.

Hola.

Fabián Delgado Padilla is one of the city's hottest chefs,

and his restaurant, palReal,

is one of the top rated in Guadalajara.

Like every tapatío, Fabián looks beyond tradition,

putting his own stamp on classic Mexican recipes.

So where better to savor the king of national dishes

than in his restaurant?

Oh, pork belly.

Oh, my God, I'm already excited.

Okay, between you and me,

I've never come across a mole I've loved.

Hola.

They're usually too sweet for me.

La cocina... Andrea, Sam, Edson.

But who knows?

There are so many versions of mole.

Maybe Fabian's will be different.

Sí.

I believe you. I believe you.

He's famed for his mole dulce sauce

over pork belly with a crispy skin.

Like Mexico itself, mole is a mix

of Indigenous and European influences.

Oh, my God, there's so many. Sí, claro.

This combination, known as mestizo,

is at the heart of Mexican cultural identity.

A century ago, as the civil war

had left the country destitute and divided,

to unite the population,

the new government promoted the ideology of mestizo.

Politicians, educators,

and artists like Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo came together

to celebrate the birth of a nation like no other,

one where European and Indigenous people

were rooted equally together.

This movement is what helped to make Mexico unique...

And what helped inspire Fabián's mole.

So you fry the chile.

That's where the love and patience comes in?

You have to do all of those?

Oh, my God, I'll see you in the table.

I'm just kidding.

And this is Fabián's stroke of genius--

a couple of French additions.

- Wow. - Wow.

Sí.

Aha.

Last but definitely not least, a key ingredient...

Chocolate, a 3 1/2-thousand-year-old gem

from the Olmecs.

I think there's a saying,

like, don't mess with somebody's mole, right?

And there you go--

in the blender, all the ingredients--

European, Mexican,

a complex culinary expression of mestizo.

This smells insane and amazing.

Wow.

Uh-huh.

To make sure the pork belly stays crispy

when served with the mole, a final flourish.

Oh, my God, it's like popcorn.

Oh, my God.

Okay.

Let's eat it!

I was gonna do this. That's why.

Okay. Oh, my goodness.

Sí, sí, sí. Sí.

Okay.

Mmm.

There's so much happening right now.

I can't--

This is so good.

Super crunchy, super soft in the middle,

and then another crunchy part and then the herb.

Oh, my gosh.

But this mole--wow, you can taste that chocolate...

I don't know. Fabián, I think--

Yeah.

Wow.

Gracias. Salud.

Salud.

Look at that. Oh, wow.

Just 31 miles south of Guadalajara

lies Mexico's biggest natural lake--

Lake Chapala.

It is huge. Look at this.

It's home to a small fishing community.

Even in a state like Jalisco,

that has been defined by mestizo for centuries,

there is a pocket of the population

that remains untouched.

I'm excited to see the ways that they have preserved

their traditions, how they cook,

what ingredients they still use today.

The Coca people,

whose ancestors thrived on these shores

around 800 years ago,

are one of the oldest Indigenous groups in Mexico.

Around 5,000 of them live here now,

and their story is a tale of resistance.

Teacher and mom Rocío Moreno is one of them.

Hola. Hola.

The lake is the lifeblood of the community...

I hope I don't have to row the boat.

Buenos días. ¿Mi capitán?

Capitán.

And it provides both work and sustenance.

So many birds here. Tantos pájaros.

Hola.

15?

Wow.

Is he only gonna make $7 for the day?

- ¿Sí? - Sí.

Sí.

Sí.

- Gracias. - Gracias.

Uh-huh.

Rocío's concern is that the water exploitation

and dwindling fish stocks

will threaten their way of life.

But the Coca people's fight for survival

is hardwired into their identity.

During the War of Mexican Independence

in the early 19th century,

the Coca people had to fight the Spanish

to keep control of Mezcala Island.

A bloody conflict raged for four years,

and this fort was the stronghold of the rebels.

Why keep them?

I got to say, walking around here is very complex for me,

because I'm a 13th-generation American

and my ancestors left Spain in 1603

looking for a better life.

So to think about them coming into conflict

with the Indigenous people is really hard to imagine.

Back on the mainland by the shoreline

is a communal kitchen

where the Coca people cook, gather, and feast

on special occasions.

Wow.

Wow.

As for our super-fresh charales,

the traditional way to cook them

is on a griddle dusted with flour

so they don't stick.

Just flipping it with her fingers.

I would be like, "Give me some tongs."

She cooks like my mother and my grandmother,

which is fingers in the fire.

These days, the Coca have tweaked the original recipe.

I think I want those.

Fingers in the oil--

that is next-level Mexican cooking, I'll tell you that.

French fries of chapala. Sí.

Vicente has a few jobs, including farming.

And with 13 grandkids,

he has a lot of mouths to feed.

It's an aphrodisiac?

- Sí. - Oh!

There's a lot of children in this town.

I noticed that. Sí.

Oh, my gosh.

Okay.

His traditional recipe makes this little fish

go a long way.

I've definitely never seen this before.

Dunking the tortilla meant that this broth

could go even further.

Mm.

Wow.

Okay. ¿Es así?

Mm.

Mmm. Oh, wow.

Wow.

That's really good.

Through survival of your people,

that's where this plate was born.

Mmm.

It's so crunchy. Sí.

Mmm.

Claro.

Sí.

Sí. ¿Sí?

What a place. I can't even describe it.

I didn't even know this existed.

You feel their culture holding on for dear life

through what they make, how they make it,

with what they make it with,

how they serve it, how they celebrate it.

It truly is unique to this region,

this lake, and this hillside.

I'm being treated

to the ultimate Mexican experience

by my friends Ale and Mariana...

Whoo.

A traditional cantina.

- Hola. - Hola.

Buenas tardes.

And, of course, when we go out,

there's only one drink for us.

all: Tequila, tequila, tequila!

Tequila is the national drink of Mexico.

And it was born right here in Jalisco.

As shocking as it is,

women weren't allowed in these bars until the 1980s.

That's so crazy that you could just sit here

as a man and pee, and you didn't even have to get up.

Also, when the women couldn't enter the cantinas,

tequila was seen as a very cheap drink.

You weren't very sophisticated if you were drinking tequila.

all: Salud! Cheers.

Thankfully, times have changed.

Cheers to women being allowed in bars.

Salud.

And thanks to the Jaliscan spirit of innovation,

tequila has been elevated to a refined drink

to be sipped, not slammed or hidden in a cocktail.

Really refreshing.

I love tequila so much,

I went into business with Ale and Mariana

to produce our own brand.

But I'm always ready to learn more.

I'm heading to where it all began--

27 miles northwest,

just outside the city of Tequila,

where the mineral-rich red volcanic soil

provides the perfect growing conditions for the blue agave.

98% of the world's tequila

is produced right here in Jalisco.

Legend goes that when 16th-century Spanish rulers

ran out of their favorite brandy,

they turned to the plentiful agave,

and tequila was created.

Hola. ¿Cómo estás?

Salvador Rosales Trejo

makes tequila as distinguished as fine whiskey.

I don't think there's anything more beautiful

than a field of blue agave.

This is stunning.

Today much of the industry is highly mechanized.

But Salvador's vision is about trusting the past

and sticking to traditional methods.

I've done this work before, and it is hard.

It is not easy.

Hola. Hola. Buenos días.

How does he not have gloves?

Ah, ¿sí?

Look at the calluses.

Wow.

That's commitment.

Amazingly, it takes 15 pounds

of blue agave piñas to make just one liter of tequila.

Mmm. You can smell it already.

Some tequila is simply distilled and bottled.

That's called tequila blanco.

The rest of it is brought here.

A lot of people don't know, but the barrel gives the color.

Once it's been in the barrel between 2 to 12 months,

it's known as a reposado.

If it remains there longer than a year,

it's called añejo.

Right.

Do we get to drink it now?

- Yes. - Okay.

'Cause that's what I've been waiting for.

We're starting with Salvador's favorite white tequila.

- No? - Mmm.

Oh, that's so nice.

Mmm.

It's like the idea of having a chunk of Parmesan

with a red wine... Mm-hmm. Sí.

And it just brings out the notes.

- Sí.Mm-hmm. - Yeah.

Extra añejo.

I smell, like, canela.

How many months in the barrel?

Seven years as a plant, four years in the barrel--

I mean, that's a lot of time to one product.

- Sí. - Mmm.

- I love the extra añejo. - Gracias.

Yeah. And I would like the world to know,

tequila's an art form.

And it comes from generations of knowledge and respect

for the people and the region and the plant.

- Sí. - Salud.

Gracias.

I'm back with Fabián,

the guy who converted me to mole,

and, luckily, it's lunchtime.

I'm so hungry.

And, no, we're not at his swanky restaurant palReal.

We are in one of the local municipal markets.

Doña Vicky!

The name of his place here is a playful nod

to Mexico's closest neighbor.

I love the name Yunaites-- "United States."

Mixing ideas and traditions

really is second nature to tapatíos.

'Cause you wanted it accessible to the people.

In a country where the average daily wage

is around 13 U.S. dollars,

Fabián has created a welcoming hub

where everybody can enjoy great food

at a low cost.

And there's a trick to feeding the masses on a shoestring...

Oh, my God, what is that?

Combining new flavors with old staples,

like Jalisco's famous French bread.

It's gonna all fall apart.

Mmm, mmm.

Like, it overpowers everything. Muy fuerte.

This doesn't overpower anything.

Just like his upscale palReal,

the main attraction here is pork with mole.

Only, here, he's turned it into a bargain market snack.

Fabián serves the pork on a gordita,

an extra-thick tortilla that bulks it out

and doesn't break the bank.

Uh-oh. Huh?

Uh-huh.

Mine's not as nice.

Oh, my God, is this the pork? Mira...

My God.

He also chooses a cheaper cut of meat

and cooks it for a shorter time

than at his high-end restaurant.

Oh, you can smell the chocolate.

It has a different leaf.

Wow. Wow.

You know how so many people don't like cilantro?

Everybody would like that.

Wow, that's beautiful.

Hola. Mucho gusto.

The star of today.

God, there's so much I have to stack on.

Oh, my God. Okay.

Mmm.

Oh, high five. I'll high-five.

Like...

Wow.

Wow.

This was so good.

To have this, like, culinary experience

at this level at a market,

it's pretty impressive.

Fabián's food embodies the perfect balance

between tradition and innovation

that so characterizes Jalisco.

I came here to Jalisco not knowing what I would find,

but I have discovered a forward-thinking state

of original creators.

Jalisco helped define modern Mexican culture,

but Jaliscans don't let their roots define them.

They look to the future

and transform their iconic heirlooms

into unexpected delights.