Standing behind the smoke veil raising from the hot clay griddle, Thalía Barrios Garcia roasts dozens of tomatoes of all shades of red with the confidence of a woman who has her future in her own hands. At the early age of 26, Thalía is the owner and head cook of Levadura de Olla, one of Oaxaca City’s most exciting new restaurants. Despite the pandemic – or maybe because of it – Levadura de Olla’s popularity has skyrocketed in the last few months, likely due to its healthy menu that is friendly to most dietary styles and, more importantly, because it is deeply rooted in the cooking styles of Thalía’s hometown: San Mateo Yucutindoo.

Every time we travel outside of Oaxaca, we get something we call “the tortilla blues.” Even if we move around inside of Mexico, particularly in the biggest cities, we cannot help missing the sweet aroma and feel of a warm tortilla almost melting in our hands. Sure, we might run into decadent tacos filled with perfectly cooked meat, or we can taste amazing enchiladas with lush salsa verde. But none of that matters if the tortillas don’t seem to have been touched by the tortillera’s (tortilla maker’s) gifted hands. Everyone talks about the tortilla but not everyone understands it. Supermarkets sell them packed and ready to heat, office workers eat them carelessly at their desks for lunch and only fancy restaurants seem to offer a more authentic version of them.

In Oaxaca, social matters are reflected in our foodways: there are certain flavors for times of sharing and growing, others in times of mourning, and many more when it’s time to support and celebrate. Some of our earliest lessons come through the honeyed flavors of dulces regionales – “regional sweets.” These represent an interesting range of treats that look as if they were taken from a 100-year-old recipe book – which they are. Nevertheless, in a world of colorful cakes and extravagant cupcakes, these complex traditional sweets risk being lost forever. Once upon a time not long ago, colorful displays of stalls selling dulces regionales adorned almost every corner and plaza in the Historic Center, but nowadays, at least in the city, the former glory of these treats has started to fade. The current sources for Oaxacan regional sweets is down to just a few makers taking private orders, a couple of stalls in the Benito Juarez market, and a dozen street vendors in the city’s most touristic areas.