Above: Open kitchen at Birrieria Las 9 Esquinas
My days of wanting to stand in line to grab a meal at the street-corner taco stand, even when fresh tortillas and tantalizing smells rising from the grill are at their most seductive, are gone. I love street food, but I want to enjoy the experience…. At a table. Preferably with a shaken margarita and a beer or two alongside.
Guadalajara was heaven for me. Great ceviches and tacos in colorful, contemporary, relaxed settings. I have never eaten such a high concentration of tacos in a two-week period as I did there. I promise Lamar and I did not consume all of the food pictured below ourselves. There usually were four at our table, close enough friends and relatives for sharing freely, and we went to several of these spots multiple times.
As I start this alphabetical list to help you in your restaurant decisions, I realize that the first one, with white-shirted, black-aproned servers, is perhaps the most formal of all we frequented. In other words, you need not read any farther if you are seeking romantic white-tableclothed candlelit restaurants, or ones with any table coverings at all. Although two, Birrieria Las 9 Esquinas and Palreal, are recognized in Michelin’s new 2026 Guide.
A circle of cucumbers provided a light bed for Anita Li‘s fresh tuna ceviche, while cubes of tuna tartare were molded together with quinoa, Asian pears and avocado topped with sesame seeds. Sheets of seaweed nori on the side allow you to make your own handrolls. Fried tuna tacos with guacamole and an eel sauce on the side sounded questionable, but they were delicious.
Thin rounds of jicama served as the taco shells for lightly battered shrimp with a fruity pico de gallo with pineapple, tomato and red onion. A welcome plate of grilled vegetables featured asparagus, red peppers, eggplant, carrots and zucchini. Anita Li’s generous salad included roasted beets, strawberries, figs and goat cheese.
On the meatier side, a tablemate ordered slowly cooked baby back ribs with a barbeque sauce of piloncillo and mezcal, plus French fries for all on the side. The bowl of shredded duck confit with a criollo sauce was rich enough to fill more tacos than our table could eat. And desserts aren’t bad for you if they arrived with four spoons, right? Even if they are creme brulee topped with ice cream or plump profiteroles.
Above: Anita Li
I’m somewhat adventurous with seafood but timid about meat. The state of Jalisco’s best-known concoction for celebrations that cause hangovers, as well as next-day cures for them, is a spicy, rich stew, birria del chivo. Rather than get lost in the definition of chivo, glance at the photo below. Sure, I’d tasted tender, still-milk-fed cabrito numerous times, but the meat being shredded definitely is from the skull of big goats. And I was not hungover.
Rafael Aguayo, a native of Jalisco, relates the story of birria’s deep roots in Jalisco in Zona Guadalajara:
Birria is native to Cocula, Jalisco, and since the end of the 16th century the Cocas Indians had food shortages caused by goats (Since these animals ate everything in the field.). These animals brought by the Spaniards, reproduced in the wild until they became a plague in many regions of the country….
It was necessary to organize massive hunts to end the threat, in addition to using that meat for food. However, the meat of these animals was tough and with an unpleasant smell…. The people of Jalisco learned to season it with strong spices to change its aroma and to cook it slowly in pit ovens, wrapped in maguey stalks to tenderize it.”
“The Origin of Birria: How was the most typical dish of Jalisco born? Zona Guadalajara
Today, the goat typically is rubbed with chile adobo and braised slowly in a liquid with vinegar, garlic, cumin, bay leaves and thyme. After cooking, this broth is strained for use as the base for the stew. Added spices include cloves, cinnamon and numerous other dried chiles, such as guajillo and ancho.
As the name indicates, Birrieria Las 9 Esquinas, with enticing aromas floating out its doors, specializes in this must-try Jaliscan specialty. It’s delicious, with the meat as tender as cabrito. One bowlful with an abundance their rustic, thick tortillas could easily suffice for a table of four. The traditional restaurant also offers birria Tapatia made with beef instead of chivo.
For vegetarians? The taco below holds the prized huitlacoche, the result of a fungus that makes corn kernels swell into bluish, blackish growths with a mushroom-like texture. Birria is the main attraction, the menu of Birrieria Las 9 Esquinas features a variety of other regional dishes as well.
Above: Birrieria Las 9 Esquinas
Only a half-block away from where we stayed, El Habanero Negro was our first stop and proved worthy of several repeat visits. Great cocktails, fresh seafood, ice-cold beer, tacos and more tacos. Non-taco things we ordered included: a “ceviche” of finely chopped jicama, cucumber, cabbage, onion, cilantro and avocado; a wonton tostada with tuna sashimi; a spicy tuna ceviche to share; and fresh guacamole.
A quesadilla Zarandeada, billed as awesome consisted of a flour tortilla grilled with Oaxacan cheese, then stuffed with stewed marlin and fresh grilled shrimp. As the photos indicate, tacos arrive fully loaded. Among our favorites were shredded cochinito pibil and shrimp adobado. If one makes it that far, there’s a dense flan de elote with pumpkin seed brittle and ice cream.
Above: El Habanero Negro
La Panga del Impostor was another trendy spot with a neighborhood vibe. Mahi mahi ceviche arrives minced, a distinctive Guadalajara style. Other dishes we shared included aguachile mixtos with shrimp, octopus and scallops; cubes of tuna chino in a marinade of soy sauce and chamoy; and a ceviche of tuna habanero negro with fried onions and chicharrones.
A grilled trio of skewers with Zareando spiced sea-and-land-food was grilled perfectly. Finish the meal off with an affogato with your choice of helado flavors on the pleasant patio.
Above: La Panga del Impostor
Okay. Time to take a rare break from tacos. Let’s Pho. We enjoyed fresh shrimp spring rolls and addictive fried pork dumplings. Loved the stir-fried vegetables combined with shrimp atop glass noodles.
Above: Let’s Pho
I’m convinced the funky murals at Napoli Jones make everything taste better. A light pear salad with fennel and candied nuts was dessert worthy. The menu is more extensive, but we came for pizza, and the Napoli with tomato and abundant anchovies was right on target.
Above: Napoli Jones
Our final day, we belatedly went to Palreal, belatedly in that we would have eaten there several times if we’d found it earlier. For our parting celebration, Lamar ordered a negroni and I went wild with a “naked and famous” – a luscious, foamy combination of mezcal, lime, yellow chartreuse and Aperol. An inventive salad combined pan fried green beans, pesto and sundried tomatoes.
And we selected some uncommon tacos. Quelites – wild-harvested herbs and greens – runner beans and avocado found a home in a blue corn tortilla. Wild mushrooms were bathed in a cascabel sauce with a cured cactus paddle topped with guacamole. But then we hit gold, the best dish of our trip, fried softshell crab with a lemony Caesar dressing atop a delicate bed of angel hair pasta. Possibly the best softshell crab we’ve ever had.
Above: Palreal
The restaurants above all attract a youthful following (aside from a few ancianos like us invading their turf). Trendy. Then there’s Ponte Trucha Negra, a bustling place that feels as though it’s been there for decades, well off the tourist grid. No fancy cocktails; no late hours; just fresh seafood served the way Tapatios have always enjoyed it. Don’t expect dishes served in courses; everything we ordered pretty much landed on the table at once.
The place is a tad on the homely side, but the quality of the mariscos more than makes up for that. A large platter of minced fish ceviche was topped with avocado and red onions. Zareanda spices flavored grilled fish atop one tostada and shrimp on another. Shrimp aguachile was polished off, and fresh shrimp stuffed a cheesy grilled taco presidente. More than aplenty of food for four.
Above: Ponte Trucha Negra
Pouring -320 degree liquid nitrogen into custard to make ice cream is a flashy gimmick, I know. That unimaginable temperature is almost three times colder than dry ice. But does the hard-to-resist “Lessons-in-Chemistry” show produce better ice cream? Yes. The quick-freeze, made-to-order process results in fewer ice crystals for a smoother texture and richer flavor than traditional freezing. And Postreria dresses up the dessert beautifully.
As Alejandro Diaz advises:
Mas tacos, por favor.
Postcards from Barton Springs 