Crispy, Cheesy, Charred: My Midnight Affair with a Tlayuda

Why more meals should be eaten under the stars in Oaxaca

Oaxaca is a city that never stops eating. It’s a place where the streets are alive with scent and smoke, where food is a celebration, a ritual, a way of life. It’s where the past and present collide, where heirloom corn meets avant-garde tasting menus, where grandmothers grind mole by hand while young chefs bring their culinary heritage to the world stage. And on every corner, food sizzles, stews, and smokes, ready to be devoured.

We had eaten our way through Oaxaca, one bite, one market, one vendor at a time. Old favourites were revisited, new ones discovered, our endless list of must-eats growing longer by the day. By our last night, we were stuffed, satiated, and deliriously happy.

And yet 20,000 steps deep for the day, we mustered the energy for one final stop.

A tlayuda stand, recommended by a fellow Oaxaca-obsessed friend. The kind of spot that doesn’t need an address (although the street intersections are helpful); just follow the smoke, the laughter, the scent of fire-kissed corn masa.

A Late-Night Pilgrimage

It was close to 11pm, long past dinner, but in Oaxaca, that means nothing. We trudged through the dimly lit streets, already full, but still chasing one more perfect bite.

(An embarrassing confession: en route, I spotted a queue for lechón tacos and may have stopped for one)

Okay, yes, I got more than one!

But I digress!

As we got close to the intersection, we knew we were in the right spot. A swarm of locals perched on doorsteps, leaning against parked cars, packed onto rickety stools, plates balanced in midair. The kind of scene that tells you everything: this was the place.

---

The Tlayuda: Oaxaca’s Midnight Masterpiece

A tlayuda is often called "Oaxacan pizza," but that barely scratches the surface. It’s a massive, crisped corn tortilla, charred over flaming hot charcoal until crackling and golden.

Inside, layers of smoky black beans, stringy quesillo (oaxacan cheese), rich asiento (pork fat), and crisp lettuce press together, finished with chorizo, tasajo (thinly sliced, air-dried beef that’s grilled), or cecina (cured and dried pork or beef, marinated with chili), all topped with an avalanche of salsa, avocado, and pickled onions.

It’s messy, it’s bold, it’s the essence of Oaxaca in a single bite.

---

Flames, Smoke, and the First Bite

The open fire grill blazed nearby, the tlayuda blistering over hot charcoal, the cheese stretching, sizzling, pulling apart in strands of molten perfection. Oaxaca’s famous quesillo is an experience unto itself. Salty, tangy, impossibly stringy, it melts into the layers, binding them in smoky, creamy harmony.

We waited for a spot, wedged ourselves onto two wobbly stools, and ordered.

A tlayuda with chorizo, Oaxaca’s signature smoky, paprika-spiced sausage. A steaming cup of chocolate atole - thick, velvety, rich with cinnamon and corn - the kind of drink that warms you from the inside out.

When our plate arrived, I excitedly took my first bite.

Crunchy. Smoky. Fiery. Then, the layers revealed themselves. The beans deep and rich, the chorizo crisp-edged and spicy, the quesillo stretching between bites, onions adding a sharp contrast, salsa bringing heat that made my lips tingle.

I alternated between bites and sips, watching the city move around me.

Under the soft glow of a single street lamp, workers fresh off a long shift leaned in, trading stories between mouthfuls, while travellers-in-the-know hovered close, eyes fixed on the grill, anticipation flickering across their faces. The kind of late-night crowd that didn’t end up here by accident.

The smell of smoke curled into the midnight sky, stars flickering above, a perfect backdrop to a perfect meal. I smiled.

This was it. Simple, yet deeply spiritual. A slice of the true Oaxaca.

-

Not all those who wander are lost - some of us are just looking for some midnight tlayudas!

Ankita

-