Altitude, Attitude, and a Really Good Mole

 

Our Suite at the Banyan Tree

Unhelpful Tile and Pottery Store

Typical Puebla Colonial Street

Look Closely - Volcano Overlooking Puebla

Salmon with Poblano Mole

Chicken with Green Mole

Our driver picked us up for the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Puebla. We left Mexico City with mixed emotions. We are completely at home there; Puebla, by contrast, was a blank slate. Friends had recommended it enthusiastically, and we knew it was famous for its food—especially its moles—as well as its tiles and pottery. Beyond that, we were trusting the process.

What we hadn’t fully appreciated was the geography. Mexico City sits at roughly 7,000 feet, tucked into a high valley surrounded by volcanic mountains. To leave the valley, you have to climb. The road to Puebla is excellent but relentless, ascending to over 9,000 feet. We both felt it at the top. Then came the descent into the Puebla Valley, itself ringed by dramatic volcanoes—mercifully dormant. Along the way we passed an enormous Volkswagen plant and other heavy industry, a reminder that Puebla is not just colonial charm but a major Mexican industrial powerhouse.

The historic center of Puebla is laid out in a tidy colonial grid of two- and three-story buildings connected by cobbled streets. After checking into the Banyan Tree—reputedly the best hotel in town—and having a light snack, we took in our accommodations. We had rented a large suite, imagining family members joining us, spreading out, relaxing, gathering between meals. Alas, the suite turned out to be for just the two of us. On the plus side, there was plenty of room to sulk in comfort.

We headed out to explore the colonial center, and here’s where expectations met reality. To us, it was a letdown. The area felt overrun with tourists and packed with junky souvenir shops. In front of the cathedral were mimes and street performers, giving the whole scene an unfortunate Hollywood Boulevard vibe. We kept waiting for the charm to reveal itself. It did not.

Puebla is famous for both its tiles and its pottery, so we dutifully visited a well-known tile and pottery store. The craftsmanship was undeniable. The customer service was not. The sales staff was largely absent, and when they did appear, they were distinctly uninterested in us. We left empty-handed, again congratulating ourselves on the money saved.

Back at the hotel we regrouped and devised a recovery plan. Step one: drinks at the rooftop bar, which overlooks both the city and the volcano—an immediate improvement. Step two: book a 90-minute massage for the following day. Step three: identify at least one cultural outing that looked promising. A museum exhibition made the cut. Morale began to rise.
Then came dinner. We had originally booked a table at El Mural de los Poblanos, but the hotel staff suggested Casa Barroca instead. A very good suggestion.

What a find. We ordered two different moles, and both were exceptional. Surprisingly, neither was spicy; instead they were deep, rich, and complex—the kind of food that demands your full attention. Portions were enormous, far beyond our ability to finish. We shared a bottle of wine, lingered happily, and felt the entire day redeem itself, bite by bite.

The total bill came to $112.

Just like that, Puebla found its footing. Sometimes all it takes is a large empty suite, a rooftop cocktail, and a really good mole.