Sweet & sour and then some, this traditional fermented corn drink cures what ails you

Like moths around a light bulb, the tide of people ebbs and flows around the bright orange bicycle cart parked curbside in front of Mazatlán’s civil courthouse. Police cars pull over, ordering from the window the drinks that El Maestre, Sergio Villareal, is already preparing for them. Someone calls from across the street: “Heeey Sergio, muy barato o tu es muy sueno ?!” (It’s cheap or you’re just very lucky?!”) Everyone laughs, nodding at the tejuinero working quickly in what’s basically a portable kitchen.

Mexican history says tejuino is a drink of the Gods. Jalisco, Nayarit and Sinaloa argue over the origin of the thick, tangy corn-based beverage; others say it hails from the Tarahumara in Chihuahua, who drank it in lieu of beer.

Tejuino also claims several more earthly health benefits: Hung-over, dehydrated, cruda? Have a glass of tejuino. Regulars – and there are lots - at Tejuino El Tucan say it’s better than coffee, and they drink it every day, many for breakfast on their way to work, for all-around good health. It’s also good for pregnant women or nursing mothers, assisting with milk production.

Who am I to argue? Whatever the case may be, it’s definitely an unusual drink, from start to finish, with a complex multi-step preparation that I find fascinating.

You start with maize (corn flour), piloncillo, water and salt, all boiled together in proportions that vary with the cook. (Piloncillo are those small, round cones of dark brown, unrefined cane sugar that can be either grated into a dish or simmered in a liquid, adding a rich sweetness.) The mixture is left to ferment for about a week at room temperature, sort of like making a sourdough starter.

When the fermentation process is complete, the thick, silvery mash is transferred into big insulated coolers and chilled. Sergio keeps two coolers on his counter: one with the concentrated, rather gelatinous mixture, another thinned with crushed ice. To serve, he squeezes about half an inch of fresh lime juice into a cup and adds a pinch of salt and baking soda. Using a small enamel pot, he ladles some of the diluted tejuino into the cup, then quickly pours it back and forth several times between the cup and the pot to thoroughly mix it.

The taste is unusual – you’ll either love it or hate it. Personally, I love it – it’s sweet but salty at the same time and there’s a slight tang from the fermentation and the lime juice. The corn flavor is subtle but yummy; sort of like drinking a sweet ‘n sour lime-cornbread Icee. Does that make any sense? You’ll just have to try it yourself.

Sergio has been a tejuinero for 52 years – he was six when he started helping his father, after coming to Mazatlan on vacation. He fell in love, got married and never left. That was 25 years and five daughters ago.

It’s a job that keeps him and half a dozen other family members busy seven days a week, from about 4 a.m. to 7 p.m., 15 hours a day. Business is best when it’s hot, he says, from April or May until November, when the heat breaks, but he sells year-round.

I ask, why so many hours? Does he want to be a millionaire? Everyone laughs again. He says he doesn’t keep track of how many glasses he sells – only how much money he brings in.

“If I have to work, I like to work for myself,” he says. “I’ve got a big family to support.”

Tejuino El Tucan can be found every day in Centro at the corner of Aquiles Serdan & Calle Vicente Guerrero, in front of the Unidad Administracion building on Rio Culiacan in the mornings and early afternoons and Sundays at the Juarez Market. Look for bicycle carts with the name “Tejuino El Tucan” on top. Cost is $5-$15 a cup.