fachada

I arrived in Guadalajara for my bus man’s holiday in dramatic fashion — in a wheel chair, my leg in an air cast propped up on my computer bag, my only addiction being the need to stay connected at all times.)   A sudden and overwhelming desire for the colors, flavors, aromas of my native country had possessed me and, stress fracture or not,  I bought a ticket to this beautiful city I had not visited in twenty years. This is where I had gone to finishing school and learned to cook refined Mexican food and later studied mass communications at the ITESO.  That was forty years a go and I would be seeing most of  my classmates!

There to greet me was my dearest friend journalist  Pedro de Aguinaga who came from Tepic, Nayarit to be with me. I looked at him and marveled at how he can manage to carry a simple outfit of Bermuda shorts, white short-sleeve t-shirt, loafers with short white socks, straw hat and dark glasses into Cole Porter-like chic.  My glamorous  hostess former model Sally was all in black-pencil pants, a sexy top under a white mesh blouson Ricardo Santana (famed Mexican designer  born of Jaliscan descent) and black spike heels. Victor Nava, another dear friend, Mexico City’s most famous caterer, had arrived on the overnight bus from Mexico City and the stage was set for an exciting five-day celebration.

Afraid that we might not pass again through there, we stopped a a small stand located at Nicolás Régules caddy corner to Mexicaltzingo  for a refreshing and perfectly balanced glass of tejuino, a centuries-old traditional tejuino-with-lime-ice-smalldrink of the local Cora and Huichol Indians made of fermented dried corn and piloncillo (brown sugar cone) .  You can order it with or without their freshly made lime ice that  replaced the squeeze of lime and  pinch of baking soda that was used until the 60s. I chose to drink it plain but it was anything but — complex, lightly sweet and tart, thick and luscious with surprising little chunks of sea salt that made all the other flavors explode in my mouth.

Then we arrived in paradisaical Villa Ganz, the perfectly appointed boutique hotel that Sally Rangel owns with her partner Klix Kaltenbark who had bought and restored an old mansion to its former glory and turned it  into a jewel that never feels like a hotel yet has unobtrusive but attentive service where it seems your every wish is anticipated. You know that they were trained by people used to the good life and who appreciate the niceties of life and want their guests to feel experience it too.
sala

There are comfortable sitting areas all around the first floor, a computer with broadband connection on a table for guests to  use. French doors lead to a lush garden and comfortable terrace where breakfast is served (there is no restaurant). However, the space is often used for private parties and the hosts are allowed to bring their own caterer, wine and service. On my last night there I hosted a dinner to thank all the people who generously wined and dined me during my stay and was given free rein of the kitchen and provided with volunteers to help me cook.
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The long winding staircase led into the spectacular and luxurious room that Sally had reserved for me. . The king-size bed was comfortable, the sheets soft, goose-down pillows, the towel thick and an i-pod player next to the bed! There was even a hammock for relaxing after a long day of shopping or sightseeing.  Villa Ganz is centrally located in one of  the most beautiful areas of the city on a tree-lined street with boutiques, cafes , shops and bookstores steps away.
my-room

I had casually met her during my last visit 20 years earlier when I went to the second anniversary of the modeling agency and school, Maniqui, that she owned with multi-talented Jorge Lupercio, who drew my caricature that has become my personal logo, and his brother Oscar. The Tourism Department had graciously offered to put me up there when they learned that one purpose of my trip was to develop a section on Guadalajara for the travel section and just as ungraciously withdrawn the offer when they learned that my primary interest was gastronomic. (I am also doing research for a new book.) Sally in true Mexican hospitality-style insisted that I be her guest and I accepted. This is an admittedly biased but completely honest review of a hotel owned by a now-friend that I hope you will one day enjoy as much as I did.

I got into the huge bathtub with a domed ceiling and took a nap. One of my customers trained in Oriental relaxation techniques had told me that a 10-minute nap in warm water is equal to four hours sleep on a bed. (Don’t try this if you’re a heavy sleeper!) Refreshed and relaxed, I got ready to go to Sacromonte, widely touted as one of Guadalajara’s best restaurants and was disappointed with yet another Mexican fusion/confusion eatery where the dishes sound fabulous but are mostly sadly lacking in flavor if not in looks. But the service was excellent, the wine good and the conversation stimulating and enjoyable. That would be my only restaurant experience. My other meals were at the homes of different friends or on the street though I don’t recommend the latter even if they are the best things I tasted on the the trip because I don’t want to be accused of causing someone to get sick.  You’re on your own here!
Sally informed the food editor of the largest newspaper, El Mural, a part of the well-regarded Reforma group, that I was staying there  and she asked for an interview  for their Friday Buena Mesa section that would turn out to be a full 2-page spread. (see below) The writer had done her research and was delightful. I so appreciate it when someone takes the time to find out who I am and not ask questions that are easily answered on my website.  I only wish that I had asked for photo approval and that  this long and beautiful article that covers every aspect of my career had mentioned that  I was staying at the Villa Ganz!

To read article go to

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This is part one of my report on Guadalajara. The next installment will cover my visit to the San Juan de Dios Market , my visit to Tlaquepaque where a canary tells my fortune and I sing to my heart’s content with a blind woman on a street corner an have one of the best dishes of my trip.