In Rural Mexico, Smoothie Bowls Are In

I am currently living in a tiny desert town in the middle of nowhere in Mexico – San Luis del Cordero. The closest cities are about two and half hours away. Here, there are no restaurants. There are no supermarkets. There are no coffeeshops.

I can’t find unsweetened yogurt, more than about ten basic vegetables (in varying degrees of freshness), or non-instant coffee. The sink does not run potable water, and sometimes there is no water at all. Other times, there is no electricity. Our dogs won’t stop barking at the passing horses. If we need to refill the large propane tanks that run the kitchen stove and water heater, we have to listen for the propane truck driving street to street playing the gas song and flag them down. We hang our clothes on the line. Our concrete, brick, and adobe house does not have heat or air conditioning. The desert winds are on a mission to fill every possible surface and fissure with dusty dirt. Life has certainly changed.

In February 2023, my girlfriend Maria and I sold most of our stuff, rented out our home in Austin, and drove down to the state of Durango with our two dogs in tow. Last year, we purchased a property in the historic center of Mazatlan, a gorgeous, bustling, coastal city, and had expected the house we are building to be pretty much done by now. It has not even been started, and we’re stuck in a bit of bureaucratic limbo trying to get the plans approved.

So San Luis del Cordero is our Plan B. This is Maria’s hometown, and feelings are mixed. We are living in her family house, the one her parents built decades ago when they first got married, but is now only used on visits for the holidays. There are memories here – good, bad, stressful, sad – but Maria and I are making it a home. In fact, being here has been a welcome reset from the grind of our lives back in the United States, a forced pause that we are beginning to find comfort in.

There are no restaurants, but there is typically one food cart open per day. My favorite are the Sinaloa-style hot dogs on Thursday nights. They are wrapped in bacon, grilled, and plopped into a mayonnaise slathered bun. Topping options include nacho cheese, grilled onion, fresh diced tomatoes, pickled jalapenos, the spiciest creamy green salsa that has ever touched my tongue, and crushed up Queso Ruffles, Sabritas Adobadas, or Doritos. Almost every day, someone from Nazas drives through the narrow streets playing a jingle announcing “Pizza Ron! La buena pizza!” available for purchase right from the car. In the evenings, another car comes by with the leftover bread from Panaderia La Sagrada Familia over in the town of 25 de Diciembre. Weekends bring the choices of char-grilled chicken or whole fried fish. Some nights there are burgers and on other nights, elotes en vaso or Dorilocos. In the plaza, crowned by a giant Catholic church, you can buy durros, chicharron-like fried flour snacks, and my other favorite, ice-cream and paletas. I love the coconut and walnut flavors, and even the somewhat artificial strawberry.

There are no supermarkets, not even a typical Mexican mercado, but I can find fresh tortillas every day and jamoncillos, a sweet milk fudge made with fresh milk. I can request a chicken to be freshly killed just for me. There are eight or so bodega-type little stores that do carry a bit of everything, and while I can’t get the same kind of variety I’m used to, it is more than adequate. You can almost always get potatoes, onions, tomatoes, garlic, chilies, calabacitas, cucumbers, and carrots, but it is especially exciting when I can find broccoli or cauliflower that still looks good. I’ve come to appreciate iceberg lettuce like never before, and have found that cabbage is perhaps the most versatile vegetable ever. Rice, dried pinto beans, fideos, sugar, flour, mortadella, fresh chorizo, homemade cheeses, and surprisingly, even almond milk are all readily accessible. I brought with me some high-quality pasta, Thai chili pastes, Asian pantry staples, peanut butter, and lots of Indian spices, so I can make almost anything we could possibly want, but that does mean nearly every meal and snack is being prepared in our kitchen. I do miss take out, the experience of dining at a restaurant, fast food, and the absurdity of buying a coffee.

The absolute best thing you can find here – the golden nuggets, the creme de la creme of grocery products, the precious jewels – are the fresh tropical fruits. They mostly come in from the Pacific coast, about a five hour drive away. Pineapples, mangos, and guavas galore. Bananas, papayas, melons, and coconuts, too.

Amazing fresh fruit has never been so accessible to me. In the United States, I would have not even considered grabbing a literal handful of guavas as a snack, eating mangoes until I was full, or buying a pineapple without searching for the absolute smallest one in the pile. Consequently, I’ve really always been against smoothie bowls because frankly, they are expensive, even when you make them at home. A $5.00 bag of frozen fruit and $3.00 worth (read: two small) mangoes quickly disappear into one single meal.

Here, I feel like I’m living in luxury with smoothie bowls in profusion. I’ve found using about three-quarters frozen fruit and one-quarter fresh is best. Add the minimum amount of liquid – almond milk, sour orange juice from the oranges from Abuela’s tree (yes really), or fresh coconut water straight from the fruit (yes. really.). Sometimes the fresh fruit is juicy enough, and you just need a splash of liquid to help the blender along. Blend until creamy, which takes a few rounds of pushing the mixture down with a spatula, but don’t overblend until it gets frothy. Arrange the toppings – granola, sesame, flax, chia, nuts, peanut butter, dried fruit, more fresh fruit – in a truly pretty way. Trust me, it adds to the experience.

Listen to the birds chirping from the palm tree outside your window and the corridos dancing through the breeze from a giant speaker somewhere. Enjoy the far more challenging, yet far more simple, endlessly beautiful, existence that you are creating each day. Life has certainly changed.