I arrived at Olivea for the first time and the menu felt immediate, honest, and natural.
Almost as if it had designed itself. I didn't recognize every ingredient, yet they felt like old acquaintances.
A restaurant with its own garden, in a wine region, surrounded by some of the country's finest products: exceptional cheeses, the nearby sea, fertile land. Olivea is exactly that — a living restaurant, breathing in what surrounds it.
My obsession has always been the ingredient. I grew up in Puebla, where culinary culture and ingredients are deeply tied to tradition and history. Recipes are protected and cared for with deep respect — something truly valuable.
In Baja California, I find an inspiring contrast. As a young region, it carries a spirit of freedom and openness: a way of cooking that invites exploration, reinterpretation, and translation of extraordinary ingredients into something new. Here, some of the world's best ingredients coexist with a fresh gaze toward past, present, and future.
The menu we share today at Olivea is born from that dialogue between origin and freedom.
A cuisine guided by product, season, and environment.
A natural expression of place and time.
Cooking the territory of Baja California.
The first thing I encountered was the garden — the heart of the house. I wanted to begin the menu with amuse-bouches inspired by it: small bites that reflect what is grown there.
One of them is bok choy, served in a flowerpot with a Caesar-style dressing that echoes Baja culture, and toasted bread mimicking soil. Presented in its purest form, it reflects what we do in the kitchen every day: harvesting what we cook. That is exactly what I wanted the guest to feel.
Two more bites follow, leading directly into intense, fresh garden flavors, such as a smoked vegetable roll that adds depth to the palate.
Then comes the Olivea dish. To me, it represents the living saturation of the season — an honest display of the work of many hands behind the product. I wanted to present it in the rawest, purest way possible.
Marine accents of oyster and sea urchin; white and red wine foams speaking to the valley's viticultural importance; vegetables freshly harvested, still warm from the sun.
For me, it is the most honest way to begin the menu.
A sincere homage to Michel Bras and his legendary gargouillou: 50 to 60 ingredients at the peak of their life, a dish that reflects a carefully tended piece of land and becomes an edible map of this corner of Mexico.
A menu is like watching a film, attending a concert, or listening to an album: sequence matters. There must be pauses, contrasts, moments of intensity and calm.
The second dish is born from the name Olivea itself. The main ingredient is olive oil from the Santo Tomás valley, presented as an ice cream that amplifies its flavor and texture. Crab is introduced alongside Malabar spinach, a complex and fascinating ingredient. Rich contrasts — one of my favorite dishes on the menu.
For the third dish, after green and fresh flavors, I wanted something deeper and more comforting. That's how a mushroom carbonara was born — without pasta — designed as a warm, enveloping experience.
We continue with fish and green curry, one of my favorite sauces, cooked over embers. The curry functions like a garden mole: fresh, spiced, and profound. Sea and garden in conversation.
Then comes the choro — probably my favorite dish on the menu. A wild mussel, rarely explored and undervalued, with a unique texture and flavor. I paired it with a vegetable chorizo and a saffron-infused broth to balance its marine intensity.
The sixth dish centers on a black sauce created with the intention of wasting nothing. Stems, roots, and scraps are transformed through fire into a new dimension of flavor. It contrasts with the delicacy of lobster, cooked zarandeado-style and supported by sea urchin. The dish is completed when the guest assembles a flour tortilla taco.
To close the savory courses: aged duck with Mexicali dates stuffed with cheese, glazed in its own jus — strength, sweetness, and depth.
Dessert begins with red wine–poached pear and beet sorbet, followed by date cake with wood and tobacco ice cream, and finishes with a green tiramisu conceived almost as a digestif, inspired by medicinal plants such as rosemary, bay leaf, basil, and thyme.
This menu is my tribute to this corner of Mexico that has become my new home.
A new beginning, filled with creativity and love for the craft.
The beginning of something new.
