At Tlecan, you don’t come to forget.You come to remember.

Jul 11

At Tlecan, you don’t come to forget.

You come to remember.

Not just personal memories—though sometimes those too—

but something deeper:

the echo of who we are as Mexicans.

Crossing that door feels like crossing a threshold.

Time slows down,

and the sacred blends into the everyday.

Here, pulque colado—the drink of the gods—

shows up dressed as a piña colada.

Familiar, yes.

But beneath the pineapple and coconut,

the sacred fermentation still breathes.

It’s Mexico made approachable, without being diluted.

The mezcalitas are there to tell stories.

Texcoco—a memory of the lake it’s named after—salty, citrusy, traditional.

Kauil, fruity and fiery, like the Mayan god of fire.

It enters soft, and burns on the way out.

Like chili on childhood fruit,

a memory that wakes you up.

Then comes the Tascalate Sour:

corn, cacao, annatto seed.

A dense sip from the south of Mexico,

from soil and milpa, from history turned into a drink.

The classics are transformed too.

A Negroni with cacao, dark as obsidian.

A Martini with vanilla from Papantla,

a timeless cocktail with the taste of jungle.

At Tlecan, drinking is an act of respect.

Of presence.

With the quiet certainty that sometimes,

a single sip can give you back something you didn’t know you’d lost.

Thank you, Tlecan.

mario maldonado