As with other places trafficking in old-fashioned native cuisine, Chaya Maya exoticizes local history by playing up most ostentatious qualities for diners in search of a full entertainment experience. In a practice common even at less theatrically-inclined spots, women in traditional garb sit off to the side of the dining area, working fresh masa with old Maya implemements. They mostly produce tortillas, leaving the production of other standbys to the kitchen, from the classic Sopa de Lima, to Sikil P’ak, Chaya Juice and Muk-bil Pollo. The latter were apparently on everyone’s mind, also traditional for the holiday but more connected to its modern everyday rituals; I spotted one, left out for the visiting dead to dine upon, at nearly every family shrine we passed, along with signs advertising their presence at many local restaurants. As with Relleno Negro, this is a dish loaded with ceremonial resonances, emerging out of the earth (Muk-Bil roughly means “placed in the ground”), from the subterranean pib oven which produces so many Maya delicacies.
We managed to miss out on the main Hanal Pixian celebrations, however, as Puerto Morelos was too small to have its own, and Mérida did it's on the previous weekend, rather than the actual holiday, which is reserved for family observance. We later learned that Campeche celebrated on the day itself, removing any chance of catching any following weekend revelry.
The market also included multiple stands hawking Chicarra (a wide selection of fried offal), Frijol con Puerco, and Puchero. Seating was limited, tight when present, and takeout options were non-existent, which again left me in the lurch. I’ve transported soup on a hot day before, and did not deign to do so again. And so, aside from the memorable sight of live turkeys for sale and a bevy of alluring odors, I left only with a few recado pastes, which I later put to good use back at home.