All language subtitles for Eva.Longoria.Searching.For.Mexico.S01E05.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD2.0.H.264-Cinefeel

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.