9 hours ago
Where Cookbook Author Rick Martinez Eats in His Hometown of Mazatlán, Mexico
I didn't move to Mazatlán for the food — but it's one of the main reasons I never I first came here five years ago, it was just one quick stop on a longer research trip for Mi Cocina , my James Beard Award-winning, regional Mexican cookbook. I'd heard whispers that the shrimp in Mazatlán was the best in Mexico — maybe the best in the world. I was skeptical, but curious. And then I tasted it. Sweet, plump, cold from the ocean, a perfect vehicle for lime and lots of chiles. That was the beginning of my love for the city, which resulted in my move here in 2020.
Since then, this city has seeped into every corner of my life and routine. I live a few blocks from the ocean, where fishermen bring in their boats before dawn and soon get busy selling their catch — sweet scallops, oysters, fish for ceviches and aguachiles — straight from the beach to vendors, restaurants, and home cooks. (People eat seafood here in the morning because that's when it's at its best.) I walk to the mercado and pass stalls piled high with tomatoes so ripe they practically sauce themselves, avocados that are always ripe and creamy like butter, limes still fragrant from the tree, and pineapples still warm from the sun. By afternoon, the air thickens and tacos emerge full of cabeza, tripa, and other meats — and they don't retreat until 3 a.m.
The food isn't rushed or forced. It's seasonal, local, intuitive — a reflection of the people who cook it and the land and sea that sustain it. At the places I love most, you can feel the passion and the sazón. There's a tea shop down the street from my house where a young baker taught himself how to make laminated pastries on YouTube. There's a couple from Mexico City making tlacoyos and tacos with masa as intense as the filling. There's a seafood stand with the best aguachile in town, expertly butterflied shrimp, and three ridiculously gorgeous salsas. These restaurants aren't just following tradition; they're expanding it, pushing it, making it their own.
I've eaten in every corner of this city. From the loudest stalls to the quietest cafes. These are the places I return to again and again. The places that taste like Mazatlán. The places that taste like home .
This serene tea salon started as a plant-filled cafe focused on chai, matcha, and vegetable-focused dishes. Then it hired José Armando Arellano, a self-taught local baker who mastered European pastries through curiosity and determination.
I love coming here because I'm a laminated pastry obsessive with high standards and zero self-control.
His ham and cheese croissant is a revelation; made with dough laminated with guajillo chile butter, it bakes into crispy, spicy layers wrapped around salty ham and cheddar. It tastes like a flaky, porky miracle. The bostock — a frangipane (almond cream) topped brioche — is a perfect hybrid of French toast and almond croissant. Both are decadent, deeply satisfying, and often gone before noon.
I come for the pastries, but the hojicha lattes (roasted green tea), matcha, and sense of calm keep me there.
Constitución 620, Centro Histórico . Open from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m., Wednesday through Monday; closed Tuesday
Aguachile, a dish born in Sinaloa and arguably perfected in Mazatlán, is a bite of spicy, oceanic bliss, combining raw shrimp with a searing mix of lime juice and fresh serrano chiles, cucumber, red onion, and (if you're smart) creamy avocado. After trying versions everywhere from fancy restaurants to plastic-stool puestos, I come back to Ay Papá again and again.
I love coming here because this is the best aguachile in Mazatlán — and I've done the research.
Just north of Centro, this casual, super local restaurant slices its shrimp whisper-thin so it soaks up every drop of that lime-chile 'agua.' It's cold, spicy, salty, and wildly fresh, perfect with the crispy tostadas or a stack of Saladitas (Mexico's far superior version of saltines). On the side, you'll get three salsas: a green serrano salsa for extra sting, a fiery red chile de árbol, and a deep, umami-rich, soy sauce-based salsa negra. I use all three.
My ideal bite? A half tostada, one giant tender shrimp slice, a half-moon of cucumber, some avocado, a spoonful of salsa, and a sliver of red onion. It's crunchy, creamy, tangy, spicy, and ice-cold — basically the culinary equivalent of jumping into the ocean in August.
Antonio Rosales 2104A, Mazatlán . Open from 10:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m., Thursday through Monday; closed Tuesday and Wednesday
Mariscos Piquillas is one of those effortlessly cool neighborhood gems where you can settle into a white plastic chair under the trees, sip a michelada, and let the hours melt away. It's casual and deeply local, with sidewalk seating, friendly staff, and the kind of laid-back energy that makes you want to order another round just to keep the vibe going. Bring a date, bring your friends, bring your book — it all works here.
I love coming here because a perfect afternoon involves seafood, beer, and zero urgency.
The menu leans Baja-ish with light, tempura-style seafood tacos served on excellent blue corn tortillas. But the standout, for me, is the taco de chicharrón y pulpo: fatty, crispy pork belly paired with tender grilled octopus and splashed with a punchy salsa verde. It sounds chaotic. It is. And it works.
The restaurant also does a tostada de chile morita that layers smoky peanut salsa with cucumber, onion, and your choice of shrimp (raw or cooked) and octopus; the combination of textures is incredible. And while the aguachile de chile morita may not be the most traditional in town, it's deeply flavorful and just spicy enough, with the signature dark, smoky heat of the chile morita.
Avenida Miguel Alemán 915, Centro, Mazatlán . Open from noon to 8 p.m., Tuesday through Sunday; closed Monday 1/8 Best to try every meat option.
The name does not lie — this taco cart-meets-open-air-restaurant serves super tacos. By 4 p.m., the team fires up the grill on a busy street corner near the beach, and it stays hot until well after midnight.
I love coming here because some nights are made for cabeza and tripitas, and this spot is the undisputed king of tacos after dark.
Customers order their meat of choice (six kinds, if you're counting) and preferred format: tacos (maíz or harina), vampiros (rippled, crispy tortillas that look like vampire wings), chorreadas (corn gorditas with asiento de puerco and queso Chihuahua), or quesadillas (flour tortillas with melty cheese and meat). My move is a flour quesadilla with cabeza (rich, fall-apart cow's head meat) and an extra crispy tripa quesadilla on the side, but whatever route you take, you're in good hands.
But it's not just the food — it's the whole vibe . The smells of carne asada, cabeza, tripa, and al pastor fill the air, while the sounds of banda spill out from cars and sidewalk speakers. It's open-air, loud, happy, and totally infectious, the ideal stop after a night of dancing, karaoke, beach beers, or cruising the Malecón. You sit shoulder to shoulder with friends, families, and strangers, inhaling carne and laughter in equal measure. It's not just a taco stop. It's a Mazatlán ritual.
Calle Segunda Carvajal 3057-C, Reforma . Open from 4 p.m. to 2 or 3 a.m., Tuesday through Sunday; closed Monday
La Chilanga ES is a Mexico City-style restaurant run by a couple who brought their masa, recipes, and Chilanga (CDMX resident) spirit to Mazatlán. They nixtamalize and grind their own corn, and build the menu around masa-rich classics like gorditas, tlacoyos, huaraches, quesadillas, sopes, and more.
I love coming here because CDMX cravings hit hard when you're 600 miles away.
My forever order? The gordita de chicharrón prensado — those crispy, fatty bits of pork belly pressed into masa are ecstasy. The runner up has to be the quesadilla de huitlacoche with Oaxacan cheese, folded into a thick, chewy tortilla that actually tastes like corn. And then there's the pambazo, maybe the only one in Mazatlán: a soft telera roll dunked in guajillo chile sauce, grilled until toasty and red, then stuffed with chorizo, potatoes, beans, lettuce, crema, and queso. It's messy and spicy, and it calls to me.
Dr. Carvajal 2501, Centro, Mazatlán . Open from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., Tuesday through Sunday; closed Monday See More: Celebrities
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