Tequisquiapan

I came to Tequisquiapan on a Saturday in November, the kind of clear Querétaro morning where the semi-desert air still has a bite to it at eight but turns warm and golden by ten. I had been meaning to come for months — friends from San Miguel had mentioned the cheese, someone else had mentioned the wine, and I kept putting it off because it sounded too pleasant, too easy. It is both of those things. That turns out to be fine.

The Cheese and Wine Country

The valley around Tequisquiapan — locals and signs both call it Tequis — sits at around 1,900 meters and produces a surprising amount of good dairy. The goat cheese coming out of farms in this part of Querétaro is genuinely excellent: firmer than a French chèvre, less salty than most Mexican queso de cabra, with a clean minerality that makes sense once you see what the goats are eating out here. At the Mercado de Artesanías on Calle Niños Héroes, three or four vendors have proper cheese counters with aged wheels and fresh rounds wrapped in cloth. I spent an embarrassing amount of time there, working through samples of a slightly aged queso añejo and a spreadable goat version that I ended up buying two containers of and eating back at my room with tortillas from a comedor nearby. The wines from the surrounding bodegas are less remarkable than the cheese — drinkable, some genuinely good — but the Feria del Queso y el Vino in May draws actual producers rather than vendors with logos on tablecloths, and the atmosphere carries a specific regional pride that you do not have to perform enthusiasm for.

The Plaza on Sunday Afternoon

The Plaza Miguel Hidalgo is one of those Mexican central plazas that functions correctly: portales on three sides, a kiosk in the middle, families actually using it from late afternoon onward. Sunday is when it fills up properly. Vendors appear with quesillo — fresh string cheese pulled into soft ropes — and you can watch children eat it in long strands while their parents sit on the iron benches doing nothing in particular. I ate gorditas de chicharrón from a woman set up near the corner of Ezequiel Montes and Juárez, then bought a bag of cajeta-filled candies from a confectionery that has apparently been on the same block since the 1970s. The pace of the plaza is specifically unhurried. Nobody is performing leisure. They are simply having it.

The Surrounding Semi-Desert

A short drive or an ambitious walk north of town, the landscape opens into dry hills with nopal and wild grasses. A handful of artisan workshops are scattered along the road toward Peña de Bernal — weavers, basket makers, a ceramics studio I stopped at where a woman was painting traditional geometric designs in blue and terracotta. The semi-desert light in the afternoon is particularly good. Not dramatic, just clear and sharp and honest. It is the light that explains why the cheese tastes the way it does, and why people drive two hours from the capital to eat it in a plaza and do nothing else with their weekend.

Getting There

Tequisquiapan is roughly 200 kilometers northeast of Mexico City and about 60 kilometers from Querétaro city. From Querétaro’s Central de Autobuses, ETN and Flecha Amarilla both run frequent buses that take 45 to 60 minutes. By car from the capital, expect two to two and a half hours via the 57D. Most people come for a weekend; Saturday night is when the plaza is fullest.