Guelaguetza (https://www.ilovemole.com/) is an Oaxacan Mexican restaurant in L.A.’s Koreatown, founded by chef-owner Bricia Lopez. I first became aware of her as one of the guests on celebrity chef David Chang’s Netflix series Dinner Time Live, where he cooks for famous friends on an actual live (recorded) show from a set somewhere in L.A. She was vivacious and telegenic, with a big, fun personality. It almost seemed like she was auditioning for a cooking show of her own without even trying, and she really should get one. I had never heard of her before, but I thought she had everything it takes to become a household name. I looked Bricia Lopez up online, found out her parents founded Guelaguetza in 1994, they serve ancient family recipes, and she has even authored two Oaxacan cookbooks. After reading the menu, I had been wanting to go there ever since.
I actually work and stay in Koreatown on my occasional work trips to L.A., but I mapped out the route, and it was too far to walk from either my work site or my hotel, and public transportation wouldn’t take me there easily. Plus, I knew if I went there solo, there were so many things I would want to try, and the main thing I wanted would just be too much for a single diner. I honestly don’t eat as much as I used to, I swear! But I’m writing this review the day I had lunch at Guelaguetza with two of my wonderful local work colleagues. I had been bugging them to go out to lunch with me, of course I had a list of suggestions, and this place was the most appealing to everyone. It was the first time for all of us, and needless to say, everyone was thrilled.
We all ordered sparkling aguas frescas: lemon (left) and passion fruit (right). I am deeply skeptical of any Mexican restaurants that don’t offer aguas frescas in at least a couple of different flavors. I admit I like them better when they aren’t sparkling, but they were still nice and refreshing. No free refills, though.
Freshly fried tortilla chips weren’t salted, but they were nice and crunchy and not too greasy. They were topped with crumbled queso fresco and a thick, rich dark red sauce I figured was a type of mole. It wasn’t spicy, but it was very savory and had a hint of chocolate. More on that later, I swear!
My colleague suggested we order the molcajete de guacamole Oaxaqueño. It wasn’t made tableside, but that’s really not necessary for me. It was thinner guacamole than I’m used to, but it was so fresh and bright-tasting, with fresh lime, topped with cilantro, serrano peppers, diced tomatoes, and crumbled queso fresco, and it came with another order of (plain) chips.
My well-traveled colleague said an authentic molcajete (the mortar bowl that guacamole and salsa are often mixed and served in, usually made of volcanic basalt rock) would have been in the shape of a pig, but that was news to me. As a Florida Man, I’ve eaten plenty of Mexican food, but I’ve never seen a pig-shaped molcajete at any of our Mexican restaurants. Of course, I’ve never found a Oaxacan restaurant anywhere in Florida!
This massive platter was the tlayuda Guelaguetza. A tlayuda is a 15” crispy corn tortilla, handmade in Oaxaca from heirloom corn and grilled over fire. It was layered with bean and chicharrón spread (mmmm, pork rinds), shredded cabbage, quesillo (salty shredded Oaxacan cheese), queso fresco (crumbled fresh cheese), pork cecina, pork chorizo, and beef tasajo. The tlayuda itself was cut into slices like a pizza to make it easier to eat, and we just shared the meats. 
This is the pork cecina, pork loin that is rubbed or marinated in chile paste, pounded very thin, and air-dried before being grilled. It was a bit dry, but it had so much flavor.
The chorizo sausage on the left may not be the most appetizing-looking, but it was one of my favorite things we tried at this sumptuous lunch. Each round link was dark red on the inside, firm and slightly crumbly, and they could be easily cut or pulled apart. It was much less greasy than any other Mexican chorizo I’ve ever had (I love chorizo, but it always drenches everything in orange grease, except this one), and the outer casing had a nice snappiness. 
The beef tasajo on the right was salt-cured, pounded thin, air-dried, and grilled. It tasted like really good carne asada, but was closer in consistency to high-quality beef jerky (just not as dry).
The thing I had been dying to try ever since discovering Chef Lopez and Guelaguetza was the Festival de Moles, a sampler of four different moles, the specialty of the house. But that would be way too much food for one man, especially staying in a hotel room. I was thrilled that my colleagues decided to join me, so we could share all this deliciousness. The moles came on a long wooden serving board in four separate bowls that were all a lot deeper than they first appeared to be. These first two were laden with pieces of boneless pork spare ribs. On the left you see mole rojo, a “rich, spiced red mole featuring chilhuacle rojo and ancho chiles, heirloom tomatoes, toasted almonds, peanuts, sesame seeds, and aromatic spices.” Despite the chiles, it was more savory than spicy.
On the right you see mole estofado, a “mild almond-based mole balanced with raisins, olives, and pickled jalapeños, creating a uniquely sweet and savory profile.” I didn’t fully read these descriptions until after we ate, so I never would have guessed it was almond-based, but I can tell you I’ve never had anything quite like it. I thought the raisins and olives were interesting additions, especially because both of them end up in Cuban picadillo, a seasoned ground beef dish that otherwise has nothing in common with mole estofado, or any mole.
These other two moles came stuffed with shredded chicken breast. On the left, you see mole negro, Guelaguetza’s “signature smoky black mole crafted from chilhuacle negro, ancho chiles, toasted almonds, peanuts, sesame seeds, and traditional spices.” This was another banger. 
On the right, you see mole coloradito, the same mole served on our complimentary chips at the beginning of the meal. It is a “sweet and mildly spicy mole with guajillo chiles, toasted almonds, peanuts, sesame seeds, spices, and a subtle hint of chocolate.”
Damn, son. I’ve tried a few mole dishes in my lifetime, but only ever thought they were okay. I’ve even bought a jarred, pre-made version that was terrible. I don’t think I could even finish the jar, which hurts, because I hate wasting food, but I couldn’t do it. But these four moles were not just streets ahead, but worlds apart. They were so rich and complex, I have never tasted anything like them, and I doubt I ever will again. If you go to Guelaguetza, I strongly recommend ordering one of these moles, or ideally, drag friends and share this Festival de Moles.
Even the veggie rice that came with our Festival of Moles was delicious, although we couldn’t finish it. 
My other colleague ordered something else I had my eye on: the memelita sampler with five memelitas, small corn tortillas each topped individually with chicharrón spread and queso fresco, with additional different toppings on each one. From left to right, they were topped with pork cecina, nopal (cactus) salad, beef tasajo, quesillo (fresh, shredded, salty Oaxacan cheese, with the consistency of mozzarella string cheese), and papa con chorizo (diced potatoes with crumbled sausage), kind of like corned beef hash, but so much more flavorful. 
I ended up eating most of the nopal salad memelita, and it was wonderful. Again, I’ve had pickled nopal cactus from Florida taqueria salsa bars and even out of a can, but these were fresh, and there is nothing quite like them, especially combined with the flavor of fresh diced tomatoes on top. They reminded me a bit of fiddlehead ferns, but maybe just texture-wise.
My female colleague’s birthday was the next day, so of course I had to mention it to our server. He brought her a complimentary piece of flan with a candle and three spoons, and we serenaded her with “Feliz cumpleaños a ti” (or “Happy birthday to you” in Spanish). I’m not a flan guy — never have been, even after growing up in Miami — but even I could appreciate this rich, decadent flan. 
So anyway, that’s how you should do Guelaguetza. The three of us ordered a lot of food and still ended up with a bunch of leftovers, most of which I schlepped back to my hotel room, since at least I have a fridge and a microwave here. It wouldn’t have been the same going alone, especially because I would not have been able to try so many of Chef Bricia Lopez’s mind-blowing Oaxacan dishes. And the way the three of us ordered, I think we really maximized being able to taste as many different things on the menu as possible. Props to them for having such good taste and being willing to share. Plus, these two are always great company, and I’m grateful to be able to work with them and see them two or three times a year.
Several publications have named Guelaguetza one of the best restaurants in Koreatown, one of the best Mexican restaurants in all of L.A., and one of the best Oaxacan restaurants in the world, if not the best. It deserves all of those fabulous superlatives and more, and it’s a huge, festive, fun place — perfect for a celebratory dinner or just a weekday lunch with co-workers you actually like. Angelenos have no shortage of Mexican restaurants to choose from, but in my three years of traveling out to L.A., I am sure I’ve tried two of the best in the city: Holbox and now Guelaguetza.
On the bottom is the pan-seared Hokkaido diver scallop taco, with three scallops, chile x’catic sauce, caramelized onions, tomato, and marinated fennel on the same blue corn tortilla. I got a scallop, and it was as perfect as a scallop can be.
I think we settled on this dish because they were out of something that interested us both more, but it did not disappoint, despite seeming a little more ordinary than the other creations.
I love a salsa bar, and it is one of the many reasons I’m such a fan of 
You can choose between ground beef, shredded beef, and shredded chicken with the taco salad, but I didn’t see any meat in the photo, and I don’t remember which one my wife ordered.
To make a long story short, the cochinita pibil at Fiesta Cancun was dry! I know, right? I was disappointed, but I still ate it, and jazzing it up with the various salsas helped immensely. The black beans were fine, and I did love the rich Mexican rice and tangy-sweet, crunchy, pink pickled onions. I wouldn’t order it again, but I wasn’t even mad. I was still having a grand time.
You can choose a side with all the sandwiches at RusTeak, and she went with house-made potato chips. They were pretty simple — crunchy, with just salt, but no weird or wacky seasonings or dips.
And that $7 burger would have been a bargain at twice the price, I tell you. It was a thick, juicy patty (no smash-style burgers here), cooked to a perfect medium rare, as I requested. The photo makes it look ridiculously tall, but the pretzel bun was soft and nicely grilled, and it squished down as I held it firmly. I was able to take nice bites out of that thing with minimal mess, and it was delicious. The sweet, salty, smoky, stickiness of the bacon jam worked well with the juicy beef, crunchy and salty fried onions, and the hearty bun held up as well as anyone could hope for. That’s a real deal, my friends — not just a tasty burger, but a legit bargain at a restaurant where you might not expect any sort of specials like that.
The bread pudding was rich, thick, and buttery, and the portion was gigantic. Even if we didn’t have a concert to get to, the two of us could not have finished it, so she killed the scoop of ice cream and we boxed up about two-thirds of the bread pudding to go. I would definitely recommend it.
She gave me one of her catfish tacos, and it was delicious. Actually, I thought it was better than any of the tacos I got.
These chips did not include any meat in the ingredients, so you’re welcome, vegetarians!
I still prefer the New Orleans Blend, Southeastern Grocers’ Voodoo knockoff flavor, though.
I recently attended a lecture about the future of food, and one scholar discussed how farm-raised insects are going to be a major protein source in the future, and we had better get on board, because it’s going to have to happen as global resources diminish and current animal husbandry methods rapidly become unsustainable. I have to admit that I feel a little smug that I liked this particular batch of grasshoppers, so now I can be like “Have you embraced eating insects, the protein of the future? I have, and now I’m part of the solution, not part of the problem!”
I make pasta all’amatriciana at home as a treat once or twice a year, but since guanciale is hard to find, I usually substitute cubed pancetta, which you can find at Trader Joe’s, Publix, and even Aldi sometimes. If you’re not into bucatini, pretty much any other pasta works well, except for weirdo choices like tri-color wagon wheels. What is the deal with those, anyway?
We both really wished some of those sodas were sold in bottles or cans, since we would have definitely bought a few different ones to savor later, but alas, they were fountain drinks only.
To the right is a chopped brisket sandwich that was also really good — pre-wrapped in foil like the pulled pork sandwich, and mixed up with sweet sauce. I liked it even better than the pulled pork.
The Saboscrivner 